#but they’re reaching a climax on their slow burn at this point in the story

[cerealforkart]

Long time no fairytale au. They’re all dressed up and having a fun time

[aspoonofsugar]

Jaune: Zero to Hero

Pyrrha: It's not about why; it's about knowing. Understanding dark and light helps us manifest our Aura. Everyone has some of both.

Knowledge, Creation and Destruction all lead up to Aura. This is just another way to say that they lead up to individuality, which is something Grimms lack:

Pyrrha: They are creatures of Grimm, the manifestation of anonymity.

Individuality is conveyed through Choice. This is why Choice is the most important and final gift. It is symbolic of self-actualization, which is what our characters are pursuing in their coming of age story.

Jaune’s personal arc comments the group’s collective journey and marks each stage very clearly.

In which way does it happen? And what do these stages mean for Jaune’s growth as an individual?

THE IGNORANT WARRIOR

Pyrrha: Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?

Jaune: Psch! Of course I do! Do you know what Aura is?

Jaune is introduced as inexperienced and ignorant. He lacks combat experience and knows nothing about key concepts like Aura, Landing Strategy or Semblances.

His journey starts because Pyrrha shares her knowledge with him:

She awakens his aura, his very soul and later on trains him, so she helps his body get stronger:

In other words, Pyrrha is the one who puts Jaune on the right path to become a true “hero” and a “warrior”.

This is Jaune’s objective since the beginning, but he initially pursues it in the wrong way:

Jaune: I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!

He is fixated on an idea of hero which is outdated and has its root in toxic masculinity:

Jaune: Cause this is always what I've wanted to be! My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough.

This is why symbolically Jaune wants to be like his male ancestors. He wants to grow into “a real man”:

Cardin: Let's see how much of a man you really are...

And this is conveyed also through his Weapon:

Jaune: It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.

Jaune did not forge his own Weapon, but he inherited it. Crocea Mors initially represents the legacy he wants to live up to. However, this legacy, instead of driving him, slows him down because he can’t grow until he remains in his ancestors’ shadow. Jaune needs to develop his own individuality instead.

In order to do so, he needs to grow not only as a figther, but as a person too.

As a matter of fact, Jaune’s ignorance is not only limited to the world he has stepped into, but also to the people around him:

Jaune: That's easy for you to say. You've probably got guys clamoring over each other just to ask you out.

Pyrrha: You'd be surprised.

He is so self-focused that he does not notice others’ feelings and hurts them unintentionally.

However, Pyrrha teaches him once again:

Pyrrha:Tell her exactly what you said. No ridiculous schemes, no pick-up lines. Just... be honest.

 It is thanks to her that Jaune manages to become a better man:

He is even able to call Neptune out the way Pyrrha did with him:

Jaune: Then just go talk to her. No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself. I've heard that's the way to go.

And as a result, even Jaune’s relationship with Weiss gets better:

Weiss: You said you were embarrassed at first. What made you come talk to me?

Neptune: You're looking at him.  You got some good friends looking out for ya.

Because the girl realizes Jaune is not only after her money or her romantic attention:

Weiss: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name.

But wants to genuinely be a good friend to her.

In short, Jaune starts the story as immature both as a fighter and as a person to the point that he is considered unfit and annoying by other characters:

Glynda: I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat.

However, thanks to Pyrrha, he is given the chance to mature.

Not only that, but while other characters see a weakness and a nuisance in Jaune’s ignorance and inexperience, Pyrrha sees it as a possibility:

Weiss: Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

Jaune: Not in the slightest, snow angel.

Weiss: This is Pyrrha.

It is specifically because Jaune is new to Pyrrha’s world that he is free from bias:

Pyrrha:  That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You treated me just like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime. I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with. Someone who just saw me for me.

This is why Pyrrha feels she can forge a genuine bond with Jaune. What is more, the girl has faith in his potential:

Pyrrha: It's all right. I used my Aura to unlock yours, but the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it.

She sees in him what others do not and helps him develop both as a man and as a warrior.

This is well highlighted by the metal motif the two characters share.

As @hamliet explains here Rwby has several characters linked to the seven metals of alchemy.

The goal of alchemy is to create gold thanks to a process of refiniment that purifies the metal and has it go through several transformations. 

The seven metals are nothing, but a scale that goes from the heaviest and most raw metal (lead) to the most purified (gold) passing through the others (tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver).

For a story, it simply means that a character goes through a process of change that leads to self-actualization.

In Rwby this idea is conveyed through specific characters embodying a metal (Ironwood, Penny, Mercury) or even thanks to metal motifs commenting a specific part of a character arc.

For example, Yang is associated with gold:

I am the golden one Who burns just like the sun

But Adam takes her arm away and has her regress in the scale of metals to iron. This regression is not simply physical, but psychological as well:

However, Yang re-affirms herself and moves forward. The first step of this process is to symbolically make her new arm “gold” again:

When it comes to Jaune, I think that he may be the character associated with lead aka the “prima materia” that needs to be molded into gold. Even if this is not true, metal is at least definately still a motif in his arc, as it is in Pyrrha’s. This is why both characters wear metal armors, differently from others.

Pyrrha is already close to her self-actualization and she reaches it in the climax of the Vale arc, where she completes her (tragic) arc and dies a Maiden.

This is why her armor is gold, while Jaune’s is white and gray. Pyrrha is at the top of the metal scale and close to the end of her journey, while Jaune is respectively at the very bottom and at the very beginning.

He is the embodyment of the prima materia that has potential for greatness, but only if he is rightly guided and if he himself works hard.

Pyrrha takes over herself the duty to help Jaune mold himself.

This is underlined also by Pyrrha’s semblance:

Pyrrha: Well, Ruby has her speed, you have your glyphs. My Semblance is polarity.

Pyrrha can control and bend metals and she shows her power for the first time when she helps Jaune against the Ursa, so that he can overcome his self-issues.

So, Jaune starts the story as the lead and is going through a path of self-refinement which will lead him to become gold, so more similar to Pyrrha herself.

Pyrrha offers him the basic knowledge to start this journey, but unluckily leaves him too soon and now Jaune has to move forward on his own.

THE CREATIVE AVENGER

Pyrrha: I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune.

Even after Pyrrha’s death, this stays true:

Blacksmith: That was some fine metal you brought me. Accents the white nicely. Where'd you get it from?

Pyrrha has become a part of Jaune.

This is a recurring motif in Rwby:

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

It is the idea that grieving is a process that leads to acceptance, but also to integration with a lost one. It is a way to have the deceased keep on living through the survivors.

In Jaune and Pyrrha’s case, this is conveyed through Pyrrha’s metal being used to enrich Jaune’s Weapon.

As stated by Ruby:

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of the self, just like Semblances.

What is more, Weapons and Semblances are also a declination of the dychotomy of body and soul, presented by the series.

Weapons are wielded by bodies, while Semblances are a materialization of the soul.

In other words, Pyrrha’s gold becoming a part of Jaune’s Weapon is symbolic of Jaune’s first step in a painful process that will lead him to overcome his partner’s death and to inherit Pyrrha’s legacy.

Jaune must keep on learning from Pyrrha and become more like her. As noted by @hamliet​, this is symbolized also by Jaune’s design aquiring more golden details as he goes on in his journey:

Jaune: Guess I was going to grow out of it eventually.

Ren: A sign of progress.

Jaune: Progress.

That said, grieving is not easy and Jaune must struggle with much pain and negative feelings.

This is why the changes he makes to Crocea Mors are finalized to increase its attack power:

It is because Jaune feels anger over Pyrrha’s death and wants revenge.

In the Battle of Haven he gives in to his fury and tries to kill Cinder. He is trying to superficially imitate Pyrrha’s sacrifice:

Jaune: If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter.

However, he is not doing it out of bravery or necessity, but out of recklessness and self-hate. This is why his actions lead to this:

Once again, Jaune risks to lose another loved one:

Jaune: No, no, no, no, not again! Weiss, c'mon, please!!

However, this time he is able to save Weiss thanks to his Semblance:

Jaune: My Semblance?

Nora: How else do you think you're healing her, dummy?

Jaune gives up on using his Weapon to fight and chooses to use his Semblance to cure. He chooses soul over body and Creation over Destruction.

At the same time, Jaune’s activation of his Semblance is meaningful on two levels:

Jaune: No. I don't think I'm healing her. Our Aura heals our bodies. It feels... it feels more like I'm using my Aura to amplify hers!

Nora: Wait, aren't you worried about running out?

Jaune: Pyrrha once told me I've got a lot of it. I still believe her.

First of all, Jaune’s Semblance is rooted in the idea that people heal themselves. His power is not to cure others, but to amplify others’ auras, so that they can become stronger and can heal. It is about bringing out the best in others. It is a power fit for a leader, but also an ability symbolic of Jaune’s own process of healing. He can heal himself through helping others to heal.

Secondly, Jaune’s Semblance is in itself a nod to Pyrrha. Pyrrha used her own aura to awake his and Aura Amp is simply an evolution of this idea. It is not about activating others’ auras, but it is a power that lets Jaune share his. It also makes good use of something Pyrrha noticed immediately aka Jaune’s huge quantity of aura.

In other words, Jaune ends up acting like Pyrrha in the Battle of Haven, but not because he fights Cinder, but because he shares his gift with others, just like Pyrrha did with hers.

Pyrrha is a part of Jaune both in body (Crocea Mors) and soul (Aura Amp), but Jaune must still truly understand what this means.

He makes progress in Lost:

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

This is the essence of Pyrrha’s sacrifice. Jaune comes to understand it and chooses to make a similar choice together with his team:

Jaune: I think... I think she knew she wasn't going to win. That she might not come out alive. But... she also knew she was the only one that could try.

Ren: So she did.

Nora: Maybe we should too.

Jaune: Yeah, we should.

In this way, it will be as if Pyrrha were fighting together with them:

Nora: Pyrrha may not be by our side anymore, but we can fight like she is.

Jaune: And in a way... she will be.

Jaune tries to overcome his anger and his sadness for Pyrrha’s death in order to keep fighting like she did.

So, once again he chooses this:

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

He chooses to protect life and this is the essence of Creation.

Once he confirms this choice, he is free to explore Creation’s potential and he does so in the land of Creation itself, Atlas.

He strengthens his shield instead of his sword:

And he trains his Semblance:

Oscar: Nice, your recovery is getting faster.

This all leads him to become stronger psychologically:

Ren: Him on the other hand... There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

That said, Jaune starts meeting limits to his new found strength rooted in Creation:

Jaune: Ah, sorry. No matter how much I boost you, they won’t go away.

Jaune: Did... I stop the virus?

Penny: No. It’s still there.

Jaune’s way to move forward is to heal himself through healing others. Still, what to do when this is not possible?

THE DESTRUCTIVE HEALER

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Penny: But there is something you can do…

What happens in Atlas is an inversion of Haven.

Penny pushes Jaune’s Semblance away and touches Crocea Mors.

Jaune is asked to give up on healing her and to speed up her death instead. He is asked to choose his Weapon (body) over his Semblance (soul) and Destruction over Creation.

This marks the characters entering the Destruction phase:

Leaving Creation (Penny) behind.

For Jaune, this means that his own self image that he has worked so much to build and to make his own:

And that has been enriched in Anima thanks to Pyrrha...is shattered:

At the same time, he is once again put in a similar spot as Pyrrha:

They both become unwilling agents of Penny’s death because of Cinder (and Emerald and Mercury in the first case):

Pyrrha: Ruby, I... I'm so sorry.

Ruby: Me too. But it wasn't your fault.

Jaune: She's right. Whoever was on that microphone... they're the ones that did this. And we have to make sure they don't take anyone else.

So Jaune’s journey to integrate with Pyrrha, to understand her and her struggle continues.

What now?

It is too soon to say because we have yet to properly start our journey through Destruction and what it is about.

That said, there are two things that are worth highlighting. The first is a motif Rwby is following, while the second is a general theme found in many stories.

1) As @hamliet​ has stated in many metas and as I have written here, Rwby is an alchemical story. Alchemical stories are usually marked by three important deaths. Each death is symbolically linked to a color. They are usually black, white and red. However, sometimes there can be yellow instead of the white or the red. This is the case here, where a resonant death is the yellow death aka Penny’s.

It is a death that happens while the characters are surrounded by yellow:

And it happens through a weapon called “Yellow Death” (Crocea Mors’s meaning). So, it is really not subtle. Penny’s death is meant to mark an important passage for our protagonists, just like Pyrrha’s one (the black death).

2) It is common in stories that deal with healers to explore the concept of death as well.

The basic idea is that a healer is a person meant to cure. That said, they will meet people impossible to cure and that will die on their watch. This is an unescapable truth a true healer must live with.

Let’s highlight this theme is found in works very different for genre and culture.

Let’s have two examples.

Scrubs aka an American comedy about doctors deals with this theme multiple times. In many episodes the characters must simply accept they can’t save a life, but must still not lose hope and keep on living themselves.

Yosano from the manga BSD says so:

Her backstory explores the link bewteen life and death further since it is shown that a power that cures fatal wounds can be used to cheapen life itself:

It is too soon to say if Rwby will explore a similar theme, but the fact that Jaune, (the healer) is the one that has to speed up Penny’s death might be a very powerful and poignant choice. This is true especially because Rwby does not refuse Destruction (and so does not refuse death), but presents it as a principle equal to Creation (so as a part of life).

THE CHOOSING HERO

Jaune’s arc is about living Pyrrha’s death over and over again with different scenarios and outcomes. This happens so that in the end he can finally overcome it.

So far, it has happened three times and each time has been in the climax of an important battle.

The Battle of Beacon has him witness powerlessly to Pyrrha’s death (lack of knowledge and passivity).

The Battle of Haven has him saving Weiss (creation).

The Battle of Atlas has him killing Penny (destruction).

What is more, every time Jaune becomes more proactive and conscious of what he is doing.

In Beacon he has no idea of what is happening. He works with little information and things happen to him without him being able to do anything.

In Haven his actions lead to Weiss being in danger, but he manages to save her. That said, he does not do it consciously. He unlocks his Semblance because of emotional stress. It is an unconscious choice and not a conscious one.

In Atlas he makes a specific conscious choice, but it is a choice that is forced on him because of external circumstances. It is also a choice that is meant to challenge and temporally break him.

In other words, he is slowly and painfully approaching Choice aka self-actualization. Right now, he has to face the consequences of Penny’s death, but this will probably lead him to finally enter the Choice stage and to complete his arc by becoming a “hero” aka gold (probably).

At the same time, this final choice will also be about healing and overcoming grief. It will be the final integration with Pyrrha and him being able to honor her legacy.

After all, we have been told from the beginning what Pyrrha’s fate would have been. We’ve just failed to notice:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

June and Pyrrha’s bond is eternal and she is meant to be the key character in Jaune’s arc. It is only through confronting and finally overcoming her loss that Jaune can finally self actualize and become the person Pyrrha has always known he could be. Pyrrha will symbolically be with him in this struggle. Her memory will protect and inspire him. 

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

“Eternals” movie review:

Short review:

It’s a DCEU movie set in the MCU. It’s not perfect but it’s FAR from the worst MCU movie. Really ambitious and rich in worldbuilding. My only real complaint is that this should’ve been longer or a miniseries. I give the movie an 8 out of 10. 

Long review:

So going into this movie, I already knew this was going to split audiences and critics. The Eternals have always been a divisive property and the movie being focused less on action and more on story/worldbuilding meant that it won’t appeal to casual audiences as much as your typical Marvel movie. Basically, Marvel was taking a big swing with this film, so the fact that the reception is split shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

It goes without saying; the MCU “formula” works since it’s designed to be a crowd-pleaser. Going off-formula was always bound to attract more criticism. 

As to where I stand on Eternals, I liked the movie but I do agree that it’s flawed. Not so flawed that it’s the worst MCU movie (that title still belongs to either Iron Man 2 or Thor: The Dark World) but it’s definitely not perfect, which is fine since a movie this ambitious and different will obviously have its problems. Now, what did I think were flaws in the movie?

Well, to start off, the story could’ve been more organized. I wouldn’t cut the Deviant storyline out but it definitely needed to be concluded before the Tiamut section. By that point in the movie, the Eternals were already battling Ikaris, so Kro just came off as a nuisance who should’ve been dealt with several minutes ago. If it were up to me, this is how I’d organize the movie:

Act 1: Establishing the Eternals and their place in human history

Act 2: The Eternals reuniting in order to deal with the Deviants’ return

Act 3: Climax of the Deviant storyline, ending with Thena killing Kro

Act 4: Tiamut and the showdown with Ikaris 

Would the movie be a lot longer? Yeah, and if I’m being honest, we’d probably reach Endgame levels of runtime. But I do think this would make for a more organized and tighter narrative, especially since the Deviant storyline isn’t clashing with the Tiamut storyline anymore. 

My other main flaw is that the movie was definitely biting off a lot more than it could chew. There are a lot of interesting concepts here, from the Celestials to the Eternals’ attachment to humanity, but to do them all in one movie seemed a bit much. This is why I feel the Eternals would’ve been better suited for a TV show, the story could benefit from a longer runtime in order to fully flesh out all the concepts.

Now, with all that being said, I do feel that the positives outweigh the negatives. Maybe this is just because I’m biased but I do love movies that feel like a novel. If that sounds confusing, I mean that I love slow-burn stories that take their time in setting up the characters and the world they’re in. People aren’t kidding when they say that this movie doesn’t feel like a MCU movie. I say it has more in common with movies like Dune, Zack Snyder’s Justice League, and Interstellar. 

The concepts were all interesting and ambitious. Like, I LOVED how the film adapted the Celestials. You just feel the power of this gigantic, omnipotent being, as if you’re coming face-to-face with God himself. Also, I loved each of the individual Eternals’ personal subplots. For example, Phastos. As the Eternal who was the most eager to pass on new ideas for technological advancements, I love that he lost his faith in humanity when they invented nuclear weapons but regained his faith when he fell in love and started a family. Phastos’ subplot really drove home what I felt was the main theme of the movie; love versus faith.

I think that’s what really made the movie for me. Speaking as a Catholic-turned-agnostic, I really resonated with the concept that what breaks the Eternals’ faith in the Celestials (or God) is their love for humanity and each other. And you see how love affected each of the Eternals in different ways; Druig immediately abandoned the team, Sprite gave up her immortality to become human, and Ikaris had a whole crisis of faith. There’s something beautiful about these god-like beings being challenged by something as simple as love and, for me, that’s what truly stuck with me after I finished watching. 

Last but not least...a MCU movie with actual high stakes. Most of the time, you don’t have to worry about the heroes succeeding since they usually win in the MCU. Even when Thanos won in Infinity War, you knew the Avengers would “avenge” their loss in Endgame. In Eternals, I legitimately thought the world was going to explode in the final act. And even then, the conflict was so raw and personal that the final battle didn’t feel like your generic villain-vs-hero. There’s weight in this conflict so if anything, I gotta give credit to Zhao for making a movie that actually felt dangerous.

(side note: I’m not going to discuss this aspect since everyone has already talked about it, but I agree that the cinematography was top-notch. Easily the best cinematography I’ve ever seen in the MCU, which makes sense since that’s one of Chloe Zhao’s main strengths) 

So yeah. While I understand a lot of the criticisms that this movie got, I don’t think it’s as bad as how Rotten Tomatoes is making it out to be. It’s the MCU’s most ambitious, thought-provoking film and its only real sin is that it should’ve been either longer or a Disney+ miniseries. 

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 3) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; a lot of smut (don’t recommend -18 to read)

Word count: 1.8k

Read part 1 / part 2

Author’s note: Hey guys! Part 3 is out. This is the final part of this short fiction. Loads of smut. Hope you like it!

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

Tom stops kissing me. He grabs the back of my neck and watches me. He exhales. His musky perfume and his warm, beer-scented breath mingle. I’m longing for another kiss, but he doesn’t let me kiss him.

“You’re beautiful” he grins. His messy curly hair spotlights his perfect jawline. I’m hypnotised.

I don’t even know what to answer, he’s driving me crazy. I just want more. I can’t think of anything else.

I want more.

I grab his face and pull it to give him a sensual kiss. He doesn’t even try to resist. He falls into my arms and moans. His fingers wander on my back. It’s giving me chills.

He finds the zip of my dress and slowly releases my naked back. He doesn’t immediately take it off. While he’s still pushing me against the wall, he gently takes the fabric off my shoulders and gives me soft kisses. His steamy breath is electrifying me to the point I can feel butterflies in my stomach.

I’ve had sex with many people before, but the way he carries my body, the way he contemplates my skin and looks at me is divine. He makes me feel like a Goddess.

I’m so sensitive the chills become unbearable. My hands are shaking under his shirt, and I’m persuaded he’s feeling the same. His heart is beating so fast. I caress his tensed abs. It’s giving him chills.

He tries kissing me, but my hair is falling on my face. He takes a strand and tucks it behind my ear. He smiles. “I wanna see your face all the time”

Tom glimpses at my bed in the corner of the room. He peers at me and nods towards it. He’s waiting for my confirmation to take it further.

I nod in return. And instead of walking hand in hand towards my bed as I imagined, he grabs my left thigh and my back, and he lifts me. Tom carrying me is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

He looks up to me and can’t hide his thrill anymore. He chuckles.

He’s all mine. It’s driving me insane. I can’t stop thinking of how lucky I am while I grab his face and cover him with kisses.

Just a few steps in his arms and we both fall on the bed. He’s now on top of me. My legs are spread apart, and he takes advantage of it. He lifts my dress and kisses my stomach.

He laughs.

Oh my God, what did I do wrong?

“What?” I anxiously whisper.

“When I saw you all wet, I knew you’d taste like Guinness,” he says as he lifts his face and glances at me “you’re even more delicious than I thought.”

He starts licking my stomach and slowly goes down.

So, he thought about this when we were still at the bar? He knew what he wanted from the beginning. I’m feeling dizzy, I think of all the signs I probably missed and what led us to this. But I’m happy.

He grabs both sides of my thong and starts pulling it down. I watch him use me as he pleases. He looks so concentrated on what he’s about to do, what he’s seeing, and what he’s already imagining. He’s so horny his hands are shaking when they’re touching my bare skin.

He grips the fabric and let it fall off my legs and throws it away. He stares at my pussy with a playful smile, both hands on my knees.

He takes off his shirt and throws it away in a hurry.

He is so good looking.

His features are mesmerising. I can’t realise I’ve been touching his sculpted body the whole time.

He leans back down and faces my pussy. He curls one of his hands on my thigh and grabs my stomach with the other one. And before doing what I’ve been longing for, he simply asks me “Are you sure you wanna do it?”

My stomach drops. I look at him in confusion. I’m not used to being asked this question, even with strangers. They usually just assume alcohol doesn’t matter.

He respects me.

This simple question makes me even hornier. I gulp and close my eyes. His stare . . . It’s hypnotising. He’s beyond all I imagined. I feel butterflies in my stomach; a shiver runs through my body and makes me feel uninhibited. I want him to get to know the real me. I don’t know about tomorrow, but tonight I’ve fallen for him. And I want him so bad.

He’s waiting for my response. My thoughts are confused. But the only thing I know is I want this to happen.

I want him so bad.

I grab his head and pull it down. That’s my answer to him.

When his lips touch my bare bottom lips, electricity is rushing through my body. His warm, wet tongue is soft, and he surprisingly knows exactly where to lick, as if he’d known my body for a lifetime.

As he gently tastes my pussy the desire inside of him is burning, he becomes more and more firm. He’s almost hornier than I am. He gives soft kisses and licks it with so much passion the bed sheets become wet.

My hands are grasping at the blanket in desperation. I can’t control myself anymore.

I moan. Loudly.

Each moan makes his hands grip my skin tighter. It almost hurts. But it feels so good. Excitement is reaching its peak and I just can’t get enough of his soft lips and tongue on my skin.

I want more.

I squeeze my eyes shut because it’s so intense . . . Each time his tongue touches my clitoris my waist startles and he knows it. His moves are making me wet as a melting ice cube. He’s playing with my senses, and he loves it.

I release one of my hands and caress his hair. I clear his face from his curls, I want to see him.

Eye-contact.

He’s been watching me the entire time.

His eyes are dark. There’s a connection between us. His glare says a lot. I feel like I know what he’s thinking about. He raises his messy eyebrow and breaks the eye-contact as he closes his eyes, focusing on giving me a memorable night.

And a memorable night for him too.

It’s exquisite.

I grip his hair and keep watching him. I don’t ever want to forget tonight.

“I can’t wait anymore – I’m sorry” he groans as he backs off and takes off his underwear in a simple sweep.

I catch a glimpse of his dick, and gulp. By the size of it, I know for sure I’m going to feel it in me. I’m shaking. He grabs it with his right hand and smiles at me, biting his lower lip.

Tom crawls over me and grabs my neck. He’s putting enough pressure for me to feel strangled.

“I’m gonna do you real good” he whispers, his face so close to mine. We’ve been waiting too long for it.

He holds his dick and plays with my pussy while he’s looking at me. He finds it amusing to peer at my facial expressions. He loves having this much power.

He loves it way too much.

He bites his bottom lip, focusing on his action, and finally enters in me. He slowly starts to go back and forth, panting. He closes his eyes, and now he’s the one feeling a little too much of pleasure.

Woah.

He squeezes his eyes and frowns his eyebrows. He’s enjoying every second of it. He doesn’t let go of his hand on my neck. He keeps his eyes shut and moans. His tongue dives into my mouth.

The French kiss I’ve been waiting for.

I grip my hands on his back and cross my legs behind him, trying to pull him deeper into me. I’m so excited I can’t wait for it anymore. We both groan with pleasure. His arms are trembling with excitement and nervousness.

When he opens his eyes, he catches me intensely watching him. He frowns as if he were trying to control something in him.

But I want to play with him as he did when he went down on me.

“Harder Tom . . .” I moan.

He startles. This is the signal that makes him lose his mind. He starts gripping my neck harder and moves back and forth with a lot of strength, keeping the pace slow. He grabs my tit with his other hand and starts groaning louder.

He’s making me feel something new. Each one of his hip movements brings me closer to him.

“I can’t believe we’re fucking” I whisper in his ear. I feel his hair raising with goosebumps.

“I can’t believe they tried to stop me from chasing you . . .” is what he replies.

What?

So, is this why he spent so much time on his phone? His friends were trying to stop him from doing it. That’s why he was so hesitant. That’s why he kept on giving mixed signals.

“. . . because I’ve wanted you as soon as I saw through that wet dress.”

Oh, my God.

I did not even realise my dress became transparent.

He’s accelerating his movements, holding my body close to his. He’s sweating and panting and smiling and kissing me so firmly. We’re becoming one, our bodies move in motion, close to climax.

Tom’s moans become louder and even though he’s gritting his teeth he can’t hide that he’s unable to handle so much pleasure. He lifts his face, his eyes still closed, and raises his eyebrows. He suddenly opens his mouth, hands trembling, and gasps with pleasure.

His body rubbing against mine, his soft smell and his moans bring me to climax at the same time.

Tom places his hand on my mouth to cover my scream. I feel his cum inside of me, my legs are locked around him I can’t move anymore. I’m overwhelmed with pleasure, and I can’t control my body anymore.

This feels like a sugar rush.

Tom falls next to me, exhausted. He looks at me with loving eyes. “You are perfect” he says as he grabs me in his arms and kisses my neck. He’s slowly falling asleep, and I just can’t realise I’ve just had sex in my apartment with Tom Holland.

I can hear birds singing. I glance at the window, it’s sunrise. The morning lights are illuminating Tom’s face. He looks like a fallen angel.

"When you wake up, we'll be strangers again, aren't we?" I softly whisper as I fall asleep.

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

I'm currently working on a longer Tom fiction with a much darker vibe. Like this post if you want to be notified when I publish it :)

----

masterlist: @hollandvibesss @nrvousxo @oswald98 @aaralynrae @originalpizzastudentartisan

[eredins-a-king-aint-he]

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​ fill for “hiding in the same hiding spot”


Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Viper’s Hands


Relationship: Lambert/Letho z Gulety | Letho of Gulet 


Rating: E (Explicit)
Content warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Finger Sucking, Semi-Public Hand Job, Dirty Talk, Frottage


Summary: Lambert needs a place to hide, but finds that the nearest spot is already taken. 
Fic on Ao3

      “Get back here, you fucker!” 

      At the sound of the yell, Lambert is already on his feet and running. He had hoped that visiting a bar all the way across the city would help him avoid the owner of that particular voice, but it seems that luck is not with him today. It usually isn’t. His one blessing is that he’s fast.

      He’s out of the bar and around the corner in the blink of an eye. If he’d had his friends with him, he might’ve tried to make a stand, but he’d come out alone, and if he wasn’t careful he might end up in the gutter alone. He makes a quick turn, then sprints down the street and makes another. It’s late enough that the streets are fairly empty, which is another stroke of bad luck.

      I guess I’ll have to find somewhere to hide, he thinks, his lungs beginning to burn. A moment later, he spots a dingy alleyway.

     Good enough. He jogs between the buildings, his mind whirring. It’s definitely not the best place to hide, there’s nothing but a few dumpsters—

      A hand, an enormous hand, shoots out from behind the dumpsters and grabs him, dragging him swiftly down behind the big plastic cans. He opens his mouth to yell, but another large hand clamps over his face, barely leaving his nose uncovered so he can breathe. When he tries to struggle in his weirdly crouched position, his captor pulls him back between large thighs and against a huge, very warm body.

      “Shut up,” a deep, gravelly voice whispers, “or we’re both gonna be in trouble.”

      Lambert freezes. He recognizes the voice. In his memory, it belongs to an acquaintance of one of his friends, a goliath of a man who never seemed to talk much. 

      The hand over his mouth doesn’t relax when he stops fighting it, nor does the arm holding him against the other man’s front, in fact they tighten. He is completely immobile, settled between a pair of meaty thighs and pressed tight to the solid heat behind him, and—

      Fucking hell, not now—

      But of course his stupid body doesn’t care how badly he might get the shit kicked out of him if those men find him, it has a mind of its own. Being held like this, a hand over his mouth, an arm wrapped tightly around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides, it does something to him. Heat spreads through him, rising up his neck into his cheeks and sinking into his lower belly. His legs begin to tremble, threatening to let him drop onto the concrete below.

      Hot breath gusts against his ear, and he barely manages to hold back a moan, wiggling slightly against the grip around his waist.

      “Shh,” his captor hisses. “They’re still close.”

      A moment later, Lambert hears voices pass by. They seem to pause for a moment, then they move away, and the only noise that remains is the frantic thumping of his own heart in his ears. His body is thrumming with adrenaline and arousal, drawn as tight as a wire. He’s also hard as a rock.

      After another minute, the man holding him loosens the hand over the lower half of Lambert's face.

      “Lambert, right?” he growls. “Seen you with Geralt and Eskel sometimes. Figured I should help out when you ran up like a little bunny rabbit, lookin’ all scared.”

      Lambert opens his mouth to reply, but a soft gasp escapes his lips instead. Heat floods his face, this time from embarrassment. 

      “I wasn’t fucking scared,” he snarls quietly, keeping his voice soft in case his pursuers decide to return. “I was just looking for a place to squat so I could wait them out, but I didn’t realize this spot was fucking taken.”

      The man behind him chuckles, and fuck if it doesn’t feel good to have the sound roll through his body like a wave. Lambert bites his lip. He wonders whether or not he should mention that the man— Letho, he suddenly remembers— is still holding him, one arm wrapped around his waist. Letho seems to be thinking the same thing, as he says,

      “Surprised you haven’t pushed me off yet.”

      His mouth is still barely inches away from the back of Lambert’s neck, and his breath sends goosebumps across Lambert’s skin.

      “My legs are asleep,” Lambert retorts, blushing. “I don’t wanna pitch forward into the dumpsters and wake the entire damn neighborhood.”

      In this position, nestled firmly between the big man’s thighs, Lambert suddenly notices that he can feel something hard pressing against his ass.

      Fucking hell, he thinks wildly. He’s into it too. …This is a terrible idea. 

      He shifts a little, trying to very subtly grind against the hard length behind him, and he hears the big man’s breath hitch. 

      “You doin’ that on purpose?”

      The growl is low and dangerous and right next to his ear and Lambert nearly moans out loud. 

      “What if I am?” he manages between clenched teeth. His cock is straining against his jeans at this point, aching to be let free. 

      “If you aren’t, gonna help you up,” Letho says softly. “If you are…” 

      “Yeah? Then fucking what? What are you gonna do?”

      The aggression of the challenge is diminished by the fact that Lambert is nearly panting now, desperate to either be touched or to quickly find a place where he can touch himself. The arm around his waist tenses.

      “If you are, we might as well do somethin’ about it,” is the slow reply. “How about you give me a good old-fashioned go ahead instead of makin’ me guess.” 

      Lambert groans.

      “Fucking… Yes,” he finally grunts.

      “That’s a good little bunny,” Letho murmurs into his ear, and Lambert melts. The grip on his waist loosens, then huge hands are deftly undoing his belt and his fly. When a warm, soft palm finally wraps around his aching cock, Lambert is ready to explode.

      “Guess you like bein’ held and gagged,” Letho comments, and when Lambert takes a breath to make a snappy reply, the big man thrusts two thick fingers into his open mouth.

      “Quiet,” he says. “Or do you wanna be found like this?”

      Lambert tries to make an indignant noise, but the sound is depressingly muffled, so he closes his lips around the fingers instead. Determined to not be completely beaten, he begins to suck, using his tongue against the sensitive undersides of the fingers, and is rewarded with a soft growl beside his ear. The fingers pull out of his mouth.

      “Spit,” is the quiet command, and Lambert does as he’s told without thought, spitting into the offered hand. Seconds later the fingers slide back into his mouth as the other hand slicks against his erection. He moans.

      “More suckin’, less noise,” Letho grunts. “Show me what that foul mouth of yours can do.”

      That’s a challenge Lambert can get behind. The hand around his cock pumps slowly as he does his best to tease Letho into moving faster. It works, the grip around him tightening, the hand picking up speed. Pleasure starts to rush into his core with every stroke, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. His breath begins to burn in his chest, light sparking behind his eyes. His legs tremble.

      “You gonna cum?” 

      He nods frantically, feeling his muscles tightening like a spring, then Letho’s hand clamps over his mouth again.

      “You strike me as a screamer,” Letho murmurs into his ear. “Let’s not wake up the ‘entire damn neighborhood.’”

      He’s right, but Lambert would never willingly admit it. Instead he lets go, surrendering to release with a muffled cry, his body shaking with the force of the climax. Letho waits for him to ride the wave to completion, then slowly uncovers his mouth.

      “Hot,” the big man says. Panting, Lambert leans back against the solid warmth for a moment, then reaches down and shoves his sticky, softening cock back into his pants. 

      “Want a drink?” he manages between breaths. “Might as well thank you for— Uh, yeah. Everything.”

      Letho chuckles.

      “Wouldn’t mind, little bunny. Watching you cum like that made me thirsty.”

      The words make Lambert shiver, and he tries to stand up. 

      “I’m stuck,” he finally admits, then suddenly he’s rising into the air, a hand under each armpit. 

      “Let’s go,” Letho says, sounding amused. “Lead the way.”

      Though his legs are a little unsteady, Lambert can still walk, so he heads toward the street and steps out into the open.

      “There he is!”

       Lambert whips around and sees two men advancing on him. His muscles twitch, ready to spring into action, but then someone walks up behind him, casting a much longer shadow than his.

      “Ah,” Letho says. “How’d you manage to piss these guys off?”

      “Long story,” Lambert replies. 

      The two men had frozen when Letho appeared. They seem to be debating whether or not they should back down, then one of them steps forward.

      “Boss says you gotta pay,” he snarls at Lambert. “Don’t care if you’ve found yourself a meat shield in the dumpsters.” 

      Lambert begins to make a snarky retort, but Letho is quicker. He moves so fast Lambert can hardly follow what is happening, and a moment later the man who had spoken is lying flat on his back on the sidewalk, out cold, while his companion sprints away.

      “Now that,” Lambert says, “is hot. Come on, let’s get out of here before they find backup.”

      He begins to jog off in the other direction, and Letho catches up to him easily. 

      “They’ll be after you too, now,” Lambert says conversationally. “And they’re fucking persistent.”

      “Me and my boys will take care of them,” Letho replies, sounding completely unconcerned. Casting a sideways glance at him as they jog, Lambert gets a better look than he had before in the darkness of the alley. 

      He looks like someone I would not want to fuck with, Lambert decides. Those tattoos must have cost him a fortune. How have I never noticed them before?

      Dark designs cover the entirety of the man’s hands and arms, as well as the bare skin of his neck. Lambert finds himself distractedly wondering where else the man has ink, and he nearly trips. A hand closes around his arm like an iron shackle, steadying him.

      “Careful there, bunny,” Letho says with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you getting too friendly with the sidewalk.”

      The grip around his bicep is very distracting. 

      “I don’t plan to get too friendly with anything,” Lambert says irritably. “Not unless you wanna help me get real friendly with a wall.”

      “You askin’ me what I think you’re askin’ me?”

      “I might be.”

      And suddenly Lambert finds himself crushed face-first against the nearby wall, gently enough so it doesn’t hurt him but swiftly enough to leave him breathless. Letho’s body holds him firmly against the bricks, hot and huge and—

      Fuck, Lambert thinks, his mind swamped with arousal. He’s not used to feeling so small. Something thick and hard presses tantalizingly against his ass.

      “Reconsiderin’ that drink offer yet?” Letho asks. 

      “Absolutely fucking not,” Lambert wheezes. “The only thing I’m reconsidering is not asking you to come back to my place and fuck me into oblivion first.”

      Letho’s laugh shakes them both and fucking hell Lambert wants him right here, right now.

      “I’d settle for the nearest bush at this point,” he manages. Hands grip his waist and Letho moves against him, rolling his hips, his erection rubbing against Lambert’s ass.

      “Let’s get that drink first,” he growls, his breath tickling the back of Lambert’s neck. “It’ll be fun to watch you wiggle for an hour or two. Plus, I usually like to get to know someone just a little first.”

      “Grabbing and hauling me behind some dumpsters isn’t exactly getting to know me,” Lambert says with a snort. Breath gusts over his ear, then lips press against the side of his neck.

      “You’re an exception, bunny. …Plus, Geralt and Eskel have talked about you enough, it almost feels like I know you. Still wouldn’t mind that drink, though.”

      Shivers roll over Lambert’s skin at the sound of that deep voice so close to his ear. Shoved flush against the wall like this, every tiny movement creates delicious friction against his growing hard-on. 

      “Let’s get that drink, then,” he grunts, “or I might cum again right here.”

      Letho steps back, allowing Lambert to peel himself off the wall. After a moment of reorientation, Lambert sets off down the street, Letho a step behind him.

      “There’s a place nearby that I’ve been to before,” he says. “It should be safe from those assholes… at least I think so.”

      “No ones gonna bother you if I’m here,” Letho replies. 

      “They better not. I have a very packed schedule for tonight now, as long as having a drink with me doesn’t put you off.”

      “Won’t.”

      “Don’t be so sure,” Lambert says with a grimace. Letho snorts with amusement. 

      “Judgin’ by our encounter behind those dumpsters, I think we’ll get along real well, bunny.”

     A little thrill of heat runs through Lambert every time he hears Letho’s deep voice saying that stupid, embarrassing nickname. If it was anyone else, he would’ve punched them, but—

      “I fucking hope so,” he says. “And for fucks sake, don’t call me that again until we’re someplace where I can suck your dick about it.”

~~~

      A ray of sunlight wakes Lambert the next morning by falling across his face. He cracks an eyelid, and doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. For a brief moment, he panics, then he remembers. Thick arms tighten around his middle. Lips press against the base of his neck.

      “Mornin’,” a deep voice rumbles in his ear. He hadn’t thought that voice could get any sexier. Well, he had been wrong.

      “Didn’t think you were the type to stick around,” Letho continues. “Thought you were gonna scamper away as soon as I was done with you.”

      “I don’t even remember falling asleep,” Lambert admits, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. “I guess you wore me out.”

      His body shakes with Letho’s chuckle.

      “Good.”

      Lips ghost against the back of his neck again, and the touch reminds Lambert of something he had been meaning to ask the night before. He wiggles, squirms, and manages to roll himself over in Letho’s hold.

      “Who were you hiding from last night?” he demands. “I completely forgot to ask. Who the fuck could make you want to hide in an alleyway?”

     Letho blinks slowly.

     “My friends,” he says after a moment. “They were tryin’ to make me go on a blind date, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, I took a walk.”

      “A walk?”

      “Yeah, an evasive one. Not a fan of blind dates, at least the kind you have in a restaurant or some shit. Didn’t mind the one we had, though.”

      “Dunno if I’d call that a blind date,” Lambert mutters. 

      “Doesn’t matter what you call it. It was hot.”

      Grinning, Lambert slings an arm around the big man’s neck.

      “It was. Anyway, how about we have another go, then we get breakfast somewhere, my treat.”

      A quick scramble later and Lambert finds himself rolled over again, a huge hand clamped firmly over his mouth, the other holding him tight against Letho’s body. Teeth close gently around the shell of his ear, then a tongue slides against the surprisingly sensitive skin. Heat pours down his throat.

      “That sounds like a plan,” Letho growls. “Now, be a good little bunny and beg for my cock like you did last night.”

~~~

      Lambert takes a long drink from his glass. He’s been trying to keep the events of the past few weeks under wraps as best he can, but he forgot to wear something to cover the bite marks on his neck tonight, and he can practically feel the marks burning under his friends’ scrutiny. 

      “Nice necklace,” Eskel comments, indicating what he means with a free hand. “Didn't realize you liked wearing jewelry.”

      “Oh, I saw that too,” Geralt adds. “Very fancy.”

      “Fuck off,” Lambert mutters into his beer. His friends guffaw. 

      “Who do you think is the culprit?” Geralt asks the man next to him, who happens to be Geralt’s boss. The man stirs from his contemplation of a wine glass, blinks once, then smiles a close-lipped smile. Lambert belatedly remembers that this man is also heavily tattooed, just like—

      “You know,” the man says in a soft voice, “usually I wouldn’t have an answer for you, but I did recently overhear a friend referring to Lambert here as ‘bunny’ and I couldn’t help but wonder…”

      A hot flush rises into Lambert’s face as Eskel and Geralt howl with laughter, then begin pelting the man with questions. When he refuses to elaborate, they turn back to Lambert.

      “Who is it?” they chorus in unison.

      Lambert takes a drink of his beer instead of giving them an answer, and finds an excuse to leave as fast as possible. He has somewhere to be, anyway.

[shipyard98]

Sex on Fire

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Pairing: Dio Brando x Reader

Word Count: 1996

Rating: E for Explicit (Mild Gore and Sexual Content)

Summary: You are kept as a slave in Dio's mansion. All goes good and well, until he senses something... different about you. Notably, your scent has changed. To put it simply, it's distrating him, and he needs to fix it.

Author’s Note: This fic is about sex. And I don’t write sex all that often. You have been warned. 

Also, feel free to support me on Ko-Fi. It’s not necessary, but it helps out a lot.

(link to story) 

The doors creaked open, and you stepped forward with your eyes to the ground. Before you had a moment to turn around and close them yourself, the doors slammed shut.

You looked up and took in the scene.

It was a dark room, very dimly lit by a few candles scattered here and there. The smell of jasmines and old blood pierced the air in a bittersweet perfume. You could make out a large canopy bed in the middle of the room.

To the right, there was an open space barely occupied by a velvet chaise lounge and a side table.

A figure was leaning back in that lounge and quietly reading a book.

Though there were barely any facial features to be seen on him, you felt his hypnotic gaze shift away from his book and towards your figure. He observed your shape, your facial features, your… everything.

A shiver shot through your body, and you took a deep breath to speak to this figure.

“Lord Dio,” you announced, taking a bow. “You summoned me?”

Dio closed his book and placed it on the table.

“I did,” he husked in a voice just loud enough for you to hear.

Slowly, he got out of his lounge and sauntered towards you. The candle’s light fell upon his muscles, and locks of his hair swept back in a breeze. He never took his eyes off of you the entire time he made his approach. It was like he wanted to make sure you were hypnotized by him, encaptured by his beauty and his power.

The look in his eye and the curve of his smile were hungry.

Dio stopped the second he was mere inches away from you. In spite of your height, you had to tilt your head up in order to look him in the eye. He, on the other hand, merely stared down at you like you were a dessert, ready for him to feast upon.

Your hands went to your chest and you looked down at your feet in a gesture of respect.

“What are you requesting of me, my lord?”

A silence hung in the room. The longer he didn’t say a word, the more anxious you felt, and it very quickly showed.

Seeing your skin shine in a thin sheet of sweat brought forth a low chuckle from your master.

Dio grasped your chin and tilted your head back up so you were giving him direct eye contact.

“It has come to my attention that you’re in heat.”

Immediately, you felt a heat rise into your face.

You thought that it wouldn’t be that noticeable, but there was no denying that your thoughts were flooded by thoughts of your master fucking you hard into a mattress. You wanted him to claim you, feel him grinding against your empty walls in that way only Dio could.

But what were you but his captive and next meal?

Comer to think of it, why has he kept you alive for so long? Just to play with you for a little while longer?

“Master, h-how did you...?”

“Why, my dear, my senses are sharper than most mortal men. I can smell your moistness, even from here.”

He leaned in until his face was close to your ear and inhaled deeply. A quick glance down at him revealed to you that an erection had already started to form.

“Mmm… It’s so inviting… and I refuse to let it distract me any longer.”

Dio’s tongue made a careful stroke along your cheek.

You shivered at his touch and your face grew even hotter. In an instant, you turned your head away from him, forcing him to let go of your chin. You didn’t want him to see that look of need in your eyes.

He let out a low growl.

“You know you can’t hide it from me.”

You gasped the second you felt his hand stroke at your inner thigh.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he purred in your ear.  “Your pussy’s just aching for a taste of my cock, and it shows. Don’t you want it inside of you? Don’t you want to be satisfied?”

It didn’t take long for you to give in to his seduction.

“Y-Yes, my lord… Please…!”

A pleased grin swept across his face.

“There’s a good girl.”

Dio picked you up and carried you to the bed, with your legs straddling his hips. You clung to him and, feeling the need to relieve some tension in your core, you tried to grind yourself against him as he walked.

“Ah, ah,” he muttered. He grabbed your ass with both hands, and that brought you to a dead halt. “Wait patiently, my dear. You’ll have your chance to cum.”

As soon as he reached the bed, he pinned you against the mattress with one hand and went to undo his belt and pants with the other. It didn’t take long for his massive erection to come forward. The more you stared at it, the more tempted you were to just go ahead and undo your pants yourself.

But Lord Dio wouldn’t allow that. He wanted you to know that he was in charge over everything about this moment, so this meant he would be the one to undress you and do with you how he saw fit. With that being said, you expected him to undo your pants with his hands or some other means, but no. Every moment he had was a chance for him to show off, so he did just that. He brought his mouth down to the zipper of your pants and gripped the tab between his teeth. In one fell swoop, your pants came undone.

Then, in the blink of an eye, your pants and underwear were strewn across the floor behind him. It was almost as though time suddenly leapt forward…

Dio’s breath gently swept over your clitoris and, for a brief second, he considered burying his face between your thighs. In his mind, however, that would’ve shown weakness and submission to you.

That was not how this was going to go.

Rather than giving in, he moved his face upwards and nuzzled at your neck, forcing you to tilt your head to the side. A few rough kisses trailed along your neck before, at last, his kiss found the perfect spot. He sunk his teeth into your flesh and let the blood flow out of you like a gentle stream.

You winced quietly, and a few tears threatened to run down your cheek. Even so, you didn’t move as he lapped up your blood.

Dio found your blood to be of a higher quality than most, so it took him a while to finish drinking his fill. His voice whispered into your neck, something about how good your blood tasted and how its scent was so divine.

The minute your neck was clean of any of your own blood, he propped his arms to either side of you and allowed his hips to press against yours.

Feeling his cock against your clit was driving you wild under the surface. You were trying not to let it show how bad you wanted it, but your lips were trembling and your face was burning red-hot.

Dio knew damn well that you wanted him. And he was going to use it to his advantage.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he smirked down at you.

“I…” you whimpered softly. “I want you to fill me up, Lord Dio. Please.”

“Ask, and you shall receive, only because you’ve satisfied me.” He leaned back down so his lips barely touched yours. You are mine, and as long as you do what I say, you will be my most treasured pet.”

The tip of his cock had sunk inside of you without any hesitation.

You suddenly let out a gasp and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He pulled his hips down harder so he could reach further inside of you. From there, he bucked his hips back and forth in a slow but rhythmic pace. The sounds of the snap of his hips against yours and the moans pouring from your lips filled the room in a matter of seconds.

With your mouth open, he saw the opportunity to nip at your lower lip.

Your lips almost smashed against his as you found yourself quickly craving more of him. Of course, he didn’t mind this gesture in the slightest. In fact, the more you wanted him, the more control he had over you.

His tongue took its time to explore the inside of your cheek and it even swirled with your own tongue at some point.

Every minute that passed, he picked up the tempo with his thrusting.

The faster he went, the hotter the fire in your core became. You could feel your breasts bounce in rhythm and his cock pulsing against your walls.

It was all too good, and you quickly found yourself moaning your master’s name.

“D-Dio! Dio, my lord!”

His breath was already heavy, but it hitched at the sound of your voice calling out his name. It made his dick swell and his rhythm melt away into a frenzy of thrusts; a sure sign that he was close to cumming.

Recognizing this, he pulled his lips away from yours without once slowing down the wild buck of his hips. He held his body above you, all while staring you directly in the face.

“Look at me,” he groaned out loud. “Look me in the eye as I cum inside of you!”

You obeyed his command and stared deep into his soul.

A wave of pleasure washed over the both of you all of a sudden, and you released together. You felt a strong heat fill you up on the inside.

Dio’s thrusting slowed until it was at a complete stop. Almost completely out of breath, he nearly collapsed on top of you. If this were anyone else, he would’ve allowed himself to cave, but for whatever reason, he decided against it. Before the strength in his arms left him, he rolled over onto the bed next to you.

Your head turned to look at him, but his eyes were glazed over and staring at the ceiling.

“My lord?” you mumbled.

Dio glanced at you. The look in his eyes had softened tremendously. One of his hands reached over and gingerly cupped your cheek. For a fleeting second, he looked as though he was about to kiss you.

That all changed when a voice called from the other side of the bedroom door.

“Lord Dio! The Joestar party has been spotted just outside of Cairo! They’re nearly here!”

All that energy that had departed from him in the climax very quickly returned as his body jerked upwards and shot a death glare at the door.

“You know what must be done,” he snarled. “Take care of them before they even think of reaching my front doorstep.”

“Yes, master!”

Departing footsteps followed the acknowledgement.

Dio’s palm went to his forehead and his fingers massaged at his temple.

“For fuck’s sake...” he grumbled.

You placed your hand on his thigh, which caused him to look down at you. The gentle look in his eye was gone, now, but he didn’t look displeased with you in the slightest.

“You may go back to your chamber now,” he said as he got up to put his clothes back on. “And you will be called back here again soon. Understood?”

A smile very briefly flashed along your face, but your hand went to cover your mouth. Now probably wasn’t the best time to show any levels of amusement.

“I understand, my lord.”

With that said, he looped his belt back around his waist and left you alone with your thoughts.

Rest assured; he wasn’t done with you yet.

He wouldn’t be done with you for a long time.

[magos-dominus]

FFVII: REMAKE Exists to Mock Your Pain

This is a post about Aerith Gainsborough.

If you are wondering, this is not a post about shipping.  It is also very long. 

I do talk about the love triangle from a narrative construction and game design standpoint, though. If that interests you, go ahead. If not, scroll on.

+++ Open Spoilers for FFVII (1997) and FFVII: REMAKE +++

So, my reading of FFVII’s infamous Love Triangle has always been that, in the text, there, uh…

Isn't one.

Not really.

The structure of the entire narrative and the trajectory of Cloud's and Tifa's character arcs are built around the two of them baring their vulnerabilities at each other in a rare moment of acceptance, connection, and understanding. You might argue that we never see them physically intimate, here them say those three little words, or even engage in a few PDAs, that the nature of their relationship isn’t clear.

But to be honest?

Who cares that we don’t?

Something we can learn from Good Omens is that, if two characters have to kiss or fuck or say ‘I love you’ to convince you that they’re head over heels for each other, the story is either poorly written or you don’t really understand the meaning of the word.

I have a higher opinion of this game than that, and I want to have a high opinion of you, gentle reader.

The Lifestream Sequence is the emotional climax of the game’s narrative. The rest is simply clean up and denouement. However, that fact does beg the question: "What then, is the narrative purpose of Aerith's attraction to Cloud?"

To start, it's not a connection to Zack Fair, given that in the OG he's more plot device than person. So, what is it then?

I'd argue, that through a combination of incident and design, the Triangle exists at the crux of two competing narrative threads, held in tension by the fact that, as an audience, we share our perspective with the POV character, Cloud in this instance, and the plot works through him to us, most of the time. These two narrative threads are:

Establishing and foreshadowing Cloud's romantic feelings for Tifa as present and important to him and his character.

Getting the audience, not Cloud, to fall in love with Aerith Gainsborough.

If you’ll allow me to put my Doylist hat on for a moment, I have some trivia for you.

As an interesting hiccup of human psychology, the wad of soggy bacon that is your brain is incapable of distinguishing, on an emotional level, between real people and fictional ones. This is why you can start to feel like, after watching the same streamer or listening to the same podcast for long enough, you might start to feel like the hosts are your friends, even if you logically know that isn't true. It is the fundamental psychological reason fiction can resonate with us, despite us knowing it’s, fundamentally, an entertaining lie. Video games, as an interactive medium, can dig into this phenomenon like no other form of storytelling. With Aerith, you might have spent 20 to 30 hours with her by the time you get to the Forgotten Capital. You’ve laughed and fought and maybe cried with her across two continents and a trio of plot arcs. She’s a person the audience has, via Cloud, shared a whirlwind, globe-spanning adventure.

The reason that its her death, out of all the other fictional deaths we’ve experienced, out of all the deaths within FFVII itself, that hurts the most, is because that, by the time she leaves the Temple of the Ancients on her own, she doesn’t just feel like Cloud’s friend.

Its over just when she feels like she’s become yours.

Not content to simply to explore the grieving process of its own characters, FFVII reaches out to take something from you, and have you grieve with them.

A recurring and oft-pointed-out design decision is the empty space left by Aerith after she dies. Holes in group formations, gaps in menus, etc. Places where she used to be. A reminder of the loss, or more optimistically, a commentary on how she’s still with the party in spirit.

I would argue that it might just as easily be you in that space. AVALANCHE is a rag-tag group of misfits bound together by their grief, and when you leave the Forgotten Capital, you’ve been blooded. You’re trauma-bonded to the group now, and you’re all there, shoulder-to-shoulder to do right by your fallen friend.

It’s a gimmick that appears on the ludic level as well. Cloud’s various panic attacks, out-of-body experiences, and struggles for control are experienced by the audience through the mechanics. Sephiroth manipulates Cloud by disrupting, blocking, and limiting your connection to him. he isn’t just denying Cloud agency, he’s reaching out through the fourth wall to deny you your own.

To personally victimize you.

Once you leave the Forgotten Capital, the dialogue choices vanish. You are no longer Cloud’s co-pilot. The trauma and grief has severed that connection you had with him. You can’t do anything to help or guide him anymore. He’s on his own and you, along with Tifa, have to watch him slip out of your grasp and into the hands of an enemy all three of you are powerless to fight.

Final Fantasy VII isn’t a video game.

Final Fantasy VII is an elaborate mouse trap masquerading as a late-90′s JRPG, and Aerith Gainsborough, part-time human, full-time hello kitty monster truck, is an insidiously crafted piece of fine Swiss Gouda. It is designed, from script to visuals to music, to fill your heart to bursting and then run it over with a sixteen-wheeler; then leave you reeling for long enough that you don’t hear the tell-tale crunch of rubber-on-asphalt as it backs up over your pulped torso for good measure.

Which brings us to REMAKE. Namely, why did they cut a lot of scenes from the OG’s script that heavily featured Aerith flirting with Cloud? Or suggested there might be something there, between them, to the audience? It’s for the same reason that Sephiroth no longer has his trademark slow-burn rise to the center of the stage.

Those plot points no longer served their narrative purpose.

REMAKE is, functionally, a pseudo-sequel. A retelling that exists in conversation with a past version of itself, and is constructed with the assumption that the audience is, at least passingly, familiar with its legacy. 

Sephiroth doesn’t get a mysterious build-up because everyone already knows who he is and what he’s about, he and Aerith are familiar with at least a broad-strokes version of the script because the audience already knows it by heart, Cloud gets headache flashbacks of scenes from the OG when we see something we know will be picked up down the line, and Aerith isn’t pushed as hard as a love interest to the audience because we’re already attached to her at the hip.

Aerith seemingly knows about her fate, and while the game leans heavily on suggesting Tifa and Cloud’s shared romantic feelings, even moreso than the original did in this segment, it still holds space for Cloud to pursue Aerith, should you choose. However, she all but talks past him and directly to the audience in her Chapter 14 Resolution scene, warning us away and signposting an oncoming tragedy so that we might brace for it when the time comes and spare us any unnecessary pain.

Her character development gets fast tracked too, through knowledge granted from the Arbiters, she grows quickly towards her late-disk-one identity as the Last Ancient. She gets a piece of the closure with Zack she might get at the Gold Saucer on her date with Cloud, a chance to say goodbye to the last bit of her normal life before she was able to fully embrace the fact that it was gone. She even gets the closing speech this time, last words usually reserved for the protagonist.

But that’s what she is at the end of REMAKE, isn’t it? The only one on the same playing field as Sephiroth and the only one who might be on the same page as the audience. Equal parts the Aerith that just left Midgar and the Aerith that we saw leave for the Forgotten Capital back in 1997, on a mission to protect her friends from the danger that lay on the path she knew she had to walk. 

All of us now get to walk that path on more time.

Maybe this time we’ll get to walk it with her. Maybe this time we’ll get that happy ending. Hell, maybe Zack makes it out fine too and we get that heartfelt reunion our hearts bled for when finished Crisis Core. Maybe yours is still bleeding.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The Arbiters subplot exists to taunt us with these possibilities, to roll back our grief from acceptance to bargaining to denial, if we ever reached those stages to begin with. I can almost see our girl getting to go home this time, safe and happy and surrounded by her newfound misfit family, free of the crippling loneliness that’s haunted her entire life.

But to be honest?

All I can see is a better mouse trap.

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

If you let him seduce you again, without questioning it...

Word Count: 2,235

Disclaimers: This is part (33) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Check at the end for glossary of Korean terms*

Start here:

Ugh who are you trying to fool? You pull him towards you and slip your fingers into the slashes in his levis to get to his dark-honey skin. He tears his top off impatiently and flings it out of the way, hands already at the button on his jeans as you run yours greedily up his naked chest. He bites that sinfully-curved bottom lip of his and raises his eyebrows, provoking you with a sly glance downwards. You take the delicious bait and start to tease his erect nipples with your tongue.

He closes his eyes and throws his head back against the headboard.

“Ib-eurohae…” he breathes.

“What?! You’re insatiable,” you chastise him. “Besides I thought you came in here wanting more than that…” you tease. His eyes flutter open.

“You mean it’s okay this time?” he checks, eyes lighting up in anticipation.

“Of course it’s not. But, fuck it - I can’t resist you lying there on my bed half-naked, tempting me like an oversexed incubus.

“Huh?” he’s confused, but confusion sits pretty on him.

“Never mind Jeongguk – just put your sexy jaji in me already,” you tell him, practically burning up with your desire for him as you return his fiery kisses. He giggles and kisses, but he’s insistently curious. His slender hand comes up to stop you.

“No, what is it?” he insists. [Huh?]

“What’s what?” you ask, continuing to try get the rest of him naked.

“An oversexed incubus,” he persists, obediently kicking his jeans off, so he’s kneeling on your bed in just his black Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. [Oh…]

“An incubus is…[how the fuck do you explain something this obscure, so that it translates?!]…It’s a sex demon. Like they’re supposed to have sex with women when they’re sleeping. It’s made-up though. There’s a girl-type called a succubus too. But it’s just an expression now. It’s hard to explain Kookie. I just meant you looked sexy, but you were being…wicked.”

“Wicked?” He’s asking for the Korean, as you said it in English. He slides his briefs down his toned legs and you feel the blood rush through you as he sits back on his heels with his cock already pointing at the ceiling.

“Saakan,” you tell him.

“Ahhh…” he nods his understanding so adorably that you feel bad for calling him wicked. For a second…But then he drops the cute act, pulls you towards him and rips your knickers off impatiently, trying to sit you immediately in his lap.

“Hey! Slow down mister!” you laugh. He pouts, but stops coercing you.

“Naneun seongyogi ganghae!” he whines. That pout though…how can he be this sexy when he claims to have zero idea what he’s even doing? You lean towards him and nip his bottom lip gently. He purrs like a kitten, and starts to kiss you again. You lie down, pulling him forward with you, so that he ends up on all fours over you. He gives you a cheeky smile and edges forward and down just enough to get his tip in.

“Uhh…” he groans as you shift out of his reach. You grab his elfin hips and force him back onto his knees.

“You have to build up to it, Jeongguk-ah,” you tell him “You won’t enjoy it if the girl’s dry,” you elaborate. You forbear from telling him he most definitely doesn’t have that issue with you right now; he doesn’t need the extra ego-boost. He gives you another of his wide-eyed innocent looks.

“Ah!” he perks up, sure he’s figured it out. You wait…after all, he does this a lot. Sure enough he continues to look like he’s about to say something for a while, then just gives up mid-thought, and looks at you with curiosity, awaiting an answer.

“No go on…guess…” you tease him. He looks perplexed, then hops off your bed and you watch him wander about, stark-naked, evidently looking for something in your room. He opens your dresser and makes a satisfied noise, emerging with the novelty bunny ears he gave you on a whim atop his head.

“That’s…not what I meant Kookie.” You try to hide your smile of amusement.

“I look cute though right?” he checks, leaning over to carefully assess his reflection in your makeup mirror. “Look! Nan tokki-ya!” 

“Yes Jeongguk-ah; I get it,” you giggle. You stand and come over behind him, to wrap his gorgeous slender frame in your arms. You kiss his neck and he preens a little and cocks his head to the side, adjusting the bunny ears and pouting at his reflection. 

“Wow, my eyes look as tiny as beans today,” he muses, ignoring you. Slowly sliding your hands down to his now only semi-erect cock, you wrap your fingers around it and start to stroke him. He pretends not to care, but you feel him tense up in your arms and his dick stiffens and grows under your touch. He shuts his eyes and his breath quickens and gets shallow.

“Open your eyes babe,” you whisper, kissing his neck again. “Don’t you want to look at yourself?” He giggles and leaves them shut, knowing very well that he’s being teased. You turn him around and kiss him lingeringly, still playing with his erection. He opens his eyes now and wriggles around, trying to angle himself just right to get his rocks off. You release his dick and grab his shoulders to push him back. He extends his tongue, first in an act of defiance but then, as you let him come closer again, he wiggles it at you suggestively. You wink at him.

“Now there’s a solid strategy,” you tell him. You watch his eyes to see if it’s registered. They widen, and he blushes a little, then bites his lip and gives you a cocky look, so you’re guessing yes. He swallows, hazards a glance down, then takes your hand to lead you back to the bed. He sits you down, coyly removes the novelty bunny ears, then gets on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs.

“Nun-eul gam euseyo,” he purrs, transforming instantly into a sex kitten and making you profoundly question his alleged sexual innocence. When you do as he asks, you feel his lips burning kisses along your inner thighs.

“Oh…Jeongguk…” you moan softly. He seems to like you saying his name like that, as you soon feel the tip of his tongue teasing between your legs. He presses them apart, leans forward and keeps licking until you can’t take it anymore.

“Unf…fuck me Jeong-ssi…” you plead, your back arcing in ecstasy. You don’t think, in all the time you’ve been secretly lusting after him, that you’ve ever wanted him inside you as much as you do right now. He climbs up on the bed next to you and you pull him over on top of you, where he ravishes your mouth with his hot kisses. You cling to him, fumbling for his dick when you both hear Namjoon’s voice calling him.

“Oh fuck – quick, quick!” you hiss at him, slipping off the bed and scrambling to find his clothes in the dark as he defiantly continues to kiss and fondle you.

“Kookie, get dressed or we’re both going to be in huge trouble,” you urge him. He pouts but complies. When he’s done, you press your lips to his, translating all your longing for him into your kisses.

“Can I come back?” he whispers, trading his pretty kisses for your own.

“Yes! Yes!! Just go see what he wants first,” you beseech him. He gives you one of his wickedly inviting smirks and ducks quietly out where you hear him claiming to Namjoon that he just popped out for a midnight snack.

“Oh yeah? What’d you get?” Namjoon interrogates him. You slip your nightdress back on, kick your knickers under the bed, and mess your hair up, preparing yourself to stage a convincing intervention.

“I didn’t find anything, but I just needed some air,” Jeongguk changes his story.

“Didn’t hear you come back inside,” Namjoon contradicts him. You sigh internally and step out, rubbing your eyes.

“What’s happening,” you mumble, pretending you’ve just woken up.

“Ah sorry Noona. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Namjoon apologizes hurriedly, bowing his head briefly. He turns back to Jeongguk, “Jeong-ssi just…never mind. Stop messing about and go to bed,” he gives up with one last warning look. You traipse back into your room, yawning deliberately for Namjoon’s benefit.

The little minx has the sense to wait until Namjoon has retreated to his room before he slips back into yours. You signal to him to lock the door and come over to your bed, which he does, pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor. He kisses you ardently, stripping your nightdress off once more, then kicking off his jeans and crawling across your bed to let you slide his Calvin Kleins down his slender legs. 

“Do I need to ‘build up’ again?” he checks, his beautiful eyes searching yours for an answer. You smile and shake your head, brushing his bangs off his forehead so you can see his pretty face properly.

“Just fuck me Kookie,” you beg him. “Please. I want you inside of me so badly.” You wrap your legs round his waist, and pull him towards you, bringing your hands down to stroke him until he’s hard as a rock. You guide him down and this time you let him push his dick forwards and up until he’s hip-deep in you. He gasps, then moans, and his whole body shudders in sync with yours. You grab his snake hips fiercely, as he thrusts into you, rocking yourself to keep in the same rhythm as him.

“Harder baby,” you encourage him. “Deeper…ooh…ah…oh yeah Jeongguk-ah. Like that…Mmmm faster…faster…harder…oh god! Yeah like that…fuck me…oh god, you feel good. Keep doing that…oh…oh…ohhhhh Jeong-ssi!!” You can feel his cock bringing you closer and closer to climax, as you arch your hips up higher. His breath gets shallower as he clutches you to his chest, biting your neck hard to try to muffle his voice. You can feel his warm breath on your skin as he gasps for air.

“Oh ssibal…jigeum gayo…,” he groans. And so he does, his hips jerking as his jizz spurts up into you, and his pretty whore moans set off your orgasm in turn.

You cling to each other for a moment and then collapse onto your pillows when you’re done, both panting for breath. The light glints off his silver earrings and bracelets as he readjusts himself to cuddle up to you, closing his eyes and making a cute, satisfied noise. You automatically pull him closer against you, subconsciously protecting him when you hear Namjoon moving about outside again. This time BTS’s leader doesn’t even bother with the subterfuge, but taps on your bedroom door. You stay quiet, hoping he’ll assume you’re asleep, but he waits a minute before tapping again. 

“I know you’re awake, Noona,” he warns you in a low voice. Shit.

“What’s up Namjoon?” you call softly.

“Open up and I’ll tell you,” he bargains.

“I’m not exactly decent,” you hedge, hoping he’s unaware how much truth there is in that statement right now. Whilst you’re mid-answer, Jeongguk, already half-asleep in your arms, breathes in then sneezes rather adorably but deeply unhelpfully.

“Didn’t know you could sneeze and talk at the same time,” Namjoon observes sarcastically. “Also it’s the strangest thing, but I can’t seem to find Jeongguk.

“Hang on,” you stall him, with bad grace. “Just let me…”

“Make yourself decent?” he suggests, provoking you. Rolling your eyes but trying not to panic, you pull your nightdress on, wrap yourself in a robe, then pad over to unlock your door and stick your head out. Namjoon smirks, but he looks dangerous.

“Do you honestly think I’m that naïve? Wow - I’m cut,” he answers your questioning look. He looks over your shoulder, trying to see around the door to your bed. “Can I come in then?” he persists. “The others might wake up if they hear us out here.” You sigh, give him a resentful look, then silently slide the door open to let him past. He grins at you, knowing he’s won, and steps over to the bed.

“How you doing there JK?” he acknowledges your not-so-secret paramour, who is deeply unconvincingly feigning sleep. A smirk slips across Jeongguk’s perfect lips, before he stifles a giggle, burying his head in your pillows. Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“I mean I’d love to give you both the benefit of the doubt, even if just to make my life easier, but sadly – and this is the first time I’ve wished for either – I’m neither deaf nor blind.”

“Can’t you just…you know…turn a blind eye?” you plead.

“I really wish I could,” Namjoon sighs. He actually looks a little sympathetic when he delivers the next bit of information: “But Bang PD Nim is supposed to be meeting with your little toy boy in the morning. They want him to be involved in one of those game shows where they team boys up with girls to compete as couples.” You feel like you’ve been slapped. Jeongguk sits up wide-eyed, forgetting where he is and letting your duvet fall from his bare chest. Namjoon averts his eyes, embarrassed. 

If you try to hide your distress If you appeal to Namjoon to intervene

Glossary: (feel free to submit corrections for these ^.^)

Ib-eorohae (입으로해) “Go down on me” (slang but the gentler version)

Saakan (사악한) Wicked

Naneun seongyogi ganghae(나는 성욕이 강해) I'm so horny/turned on!

Nan tokki-ya (난 토끼야) I’m a rabbit/bunny

Nun-eul gam euseyo (눈을 감 으세요) Please close your eyes

Jigeum gayo (지금 가요) I’m coming

[classpect-crew]

Class and Purpose

I’ve heard a lot of people theorize about the purpose of each Class in any particular session. As you can probably imagine, I have a few thoughts about that. Let’s get into it, shall we? (Edit: this took me nearly two hours to write. It’s almost 7am. I need to sleep.)

First, we ought to start with the Witch and Heir. Now, all the Witches we’ve seen in canon seem to have a very similar beginning. They start off fairly passive (lowercase “p” this time) and have quite a lengthy maturation arc, not unlike Pages. However, once they hit a certain breaking point when they come into their powers, there’s a sort of “oh, shit” moment when everyone else is forced to reckon with one of their most unassuming players swiftly transforming into a powerhouse. With this much power at their disposal in such a short period of time, you may be wondering what they’re going to do with it. Well, historically speaking, they’re going to massively fuck things up for the session, whether intentionally or not. If the game determines that a brick shithouse of a player is required for some ultimate endgame, that means things are going to go very, very wrong. Ironically, the Witch may very well be the one to save the team from total catastrophe. It will usually work out in the end. Usually.

Now, the Heir is a bit of a different story. As one whose Aspect coddles and protects them in desperate times, the Heir is destined to become their Aspect in one way or another, for better or worse. After all, when a sullen, hungry Aspect like Void was influencing Equius, he ended up vanishing into irrelevance. Even his blood was used to obscure information in Rose’s tome. A similar fate befell Mituna, and he became the embodiment of sacrifice—of Doom. Heirs are doorways for their Aspects to affect the universe. They are the closest any living being can get to a distilled, pure form of an Aspect. If your session has an Heir, pay very close attention to the implications of their Aspect, because this will almost always determine how they’ll be used most effectively. An Heir of Blood, for example, is going to be your hard-working people-person, and you’ll want them in the center of your team, keeping everyone grounded and focused on the task at hand. Take heed: the appearance of an Heir is a sign that one Aspect in particular is going to have a strong influence on the session.

Next, we’ll discuss the Mage and Seer. A Mage’s role in a session is to unravel the mysteries of their Aspect, which means they’ll take on an advisory role. Their appearance marks a significant need for in-depth understanding of some kind. Every session has its riddles and puzzles, but those which possess a Mage need the mind of a scientist in order to parse out the most convoluted secrets. Perhaps the session is filled with difficult or confusing Aspect-related mysteries that must be taken apart and examined for an endgame victory to be possible. Unfortunately, we just don’t know enough about Mages in canon to speculate a whole lot more about what their presence in a session might mean.

The Seer has a similar purpose as the Heir, though to a lesser extent. While the Heir embodies their Aspect, a Seer is guided by theirs in subtle ways. The appearance of a Seer as an adviser ensures that the ultimate path to success will be either helped or hindered by their Aspect, and it’s up to them to figure out the extent and purpose of their Aspect’s sway in their session. This Passive Class tends to be assigned to otherwise active players who wish to exert their will over the universe, but must learn to step back and take on the role of a guide. Many will balk at this, but most will eventually realize that their true strength comes from trusting others to take their advice and push the team forward.

Now, onto the Maid and Sylph. The Maid, as I’ve discussed previously, begins their journey at the mercy of their Aspect’s most negative qualities. As you can imagine, a Maid’s purpose is to gain control of their Aspect in a way that allows them to “tidy it up” and maintain its integrity. The appearance of a Maid in a session almost guarantees that their Aspect is going to be fraying and torn, in need of their mending expertise. You can certainly expect a lot of difficulties to arise in the realm of their Aspect at the beginning, since they’ll lack the ability to smooth out those bumps for quite some time. Once the Maid realizes their potential, however, stand back and allow them to do their work. Chances are, they know what needs to be done to succeed, and you don’t want to stand in the way of a Maid and a stitch to be fixed.

Ah, the Sylph. As one myself, it’s fairly easy to imagine what my purpose in a session would be. Similar to the Maid, a Sylph’s job is one of restoration and healing, though they tend to start out with much more confidence toward their Aspect than the Maid. The presence of a Sylph in a session is a handy sign that their Aspect is likely going to be lost or broken at any given point, and therefore in need of restoration. This could be metaphorical, or quite literal, depending on the situation. As a Sylph of Time myself, it’s easy to imagine bringing back an amnesiac’s memories by “restoring” the time they lost, or healing a wound by speeding up time around it. Beware, however, as a Sylph’s energy isn’t limitless, and even the most dedicated healers need time to recuperate, or else they risk overexerting themselves and burning out. (Trust me, “Sylph Burnout” is a very real thing.)

Well, the first half is over, so now it’s time to talk about the Prince and Bard. As destroyer Classes, one might wonder what these might mean for their Aspects. That’s quite simple: both indicate an overabundance of their Aspect that must be pruned away. The Prince, in particular, is infamous for destroying their Aspect within themselves before turning their crusade outward. Too much of one Aspect upsets the balance, after all, so it must be purged to allow its opposite to rush in to fill that gap. If your session has a Prince, buckle up tight, because any semblance of their Aspect that exists is going to be an irresistible target for their princely purge. Although this is probably a good thing overall for the session, it’s going to be rather painful at the onset. Princes may “get the tumors out,” so to speak, but they’re likely to leave the patient bleeding on the operating table afterwards.

Having a Bard in your party is a little bit like inviting a chimpanzee to a D&D session: it’s exciting and unpredictable at first, but after a while, shit really starts to hit the fan and you’re left wondering “who invited this guy in the first place?” Truthfully, though, the Bard can be both a game-changing player and the one who dooms the entire session. In rare cases, they’re both simultaneously. Their Passive nature makes it difficult to predict what they’ll do next, since they act based on the whims of both their Aspect and its opposite, but it’s fairly certain your session will be rife with discord and conflict, due in part to the Bard. It’s sort of the universe’s way of throwing a curveball in the form of a player to challenge the team even further. A Bard is both a buff and a nerf to your team. Use them wisely, and never, ever turn your back on the Bard.

Well, well, it’s about time we talked about the Knight and Page. A Knight’s appearance has a very obvious consequence: whatever their Aspect is, that’s what your session will be lacking. Dave’s session was very, very short on time, Karkat’s had virtually no natural cohesion, and Latula’s was filled with big personalities with no regard for the consequences of their actions. This is because the Knight’s job is to use whatever they can get of their Aspect and exploit the hell out of it. Give them an inch, and they’ll turn it into a mile without breaking a sweat. This is especially handy when there’s precious little of their Aspect to go around.

Now, having a Page in your session may sound like a recipe for dead weight, but that would be an incredibly unfair assumption. Rather, a Page has access to a great deal of exploitative power as they reach the climax of their development. The presence of a Page is a very good sign indeed, as long as the team is willing to put up with their very slow and steep maturation arc. Their Aspect is one that will be opened up to be used by their teammates in game-breaking ways, provided they’re patient and encouraging toward the Page. Good things come to those who wait, and wasting the potential of a fully realized Page is not a mistake you want to make.

Last but certainly not least, we have the Thief and Rogue. Thieves get a bit of a bad rap in canon, but it’s safe to say that the Thief will become a powerful player in any given session. Their appearance signifies great conflict and strife, which they’ll almost certainly cause in the first place. Thieves begin much like Pages in the sense that they lack their Aspect and seek to obtain it. For the Thief, this Aspect-shaped hole is too much to bear, and their schemes to take it at any cost will likely be the source of the session’s woe. This isn’t necessarily all bad, however, as knowing your Thief well enough can help you predict the nature of this unavoidable conflict, allowing you to prepare well in advance. Remember, the Thief can make an incredible ally, but their interests won’t always fully align with those of the party.

Finally, we have the Rogue. Ultimately, the Rogue is in charge of balancing their Aspect by redistributing it from areas of abundance to those of scarcity. Too much of one Aspect upsets the universal balance, and as we’ve covered previously, there are quite a few Classes whose purpose involves tipping the scales back where they’re supposed to be. The Rogue is the most intricately tied to this delicate dance between their Aspect and its opposite, since the presence of one necessarily negates the other. Their job is to facilitate this natural order, ensuring that their Aspect doesn’t become too concentrated in one form or another, ultimately supporting a natural sense of order over chaos.

If you’ve read all the way to the end, congratulations! You’ve officially read through nearly two hours of my creative process. I’m actually really impressed.

[eleamaya]

so whats tour opinion on the remake cloti?? do u think theres hope for zerith reunion with all this aerith will live theory??

Cloti is my secondary pairing, I’m a straight-forward person and slow-burn romance is never my top favorite in every fandom. I just accept that they’re end game in FF7 Compilation. So, I don't think I’m as excited as everyone else who really ship them to their heart haha. 

But I can agree it’s handled much better. I noticed that the whole chapter 3 which full of Cloti interactions in their apartment and Cloti side quest is something new you can’t see in OG. Well, that’s what Nojima wanted you all to look forward. Cloud also remember the childhood promise without Tifa need to remind him like in OG. It’s shown in FF7R that she never thought about her childhood wish deeply anymore as she grows up more mature and stronger by herself (she’s a badass fighter!). But for Cloud who is mentally 16 years old as if Nibelheim incident just like happening yesterday, the desire to fulfill his promise is really etched to his deep memory subconsciously. 

No matter how strong and kickass a woman is, a man would always have instinct to protect the woman he loves--emotionally and physically.

We see some scenes indicating it, how he grip his own hand hardly, how two events in the past flashed in his head that he felt failing her, and there are also so many scenes Cloud rescuing her with gentle touch or stretching his hand to reach her. It’s the core and a good set to slowly build up towards the climax in Lifestream sequence, how it will eventually reveal the real Cloud is a simple man whose action motivated by his childhood crush to Tifa, to be noticed by her, to be strong for her, to be a hero for her. Isn’t it a romantic side from a man named Cloud Strife? He is never a badass hero picturing a big dream to save the world like Zack to begin with, but he ended up to be that one by the journey framed in OG/FF7R... as Zack’s living legacy.

Yeah, Zack is his opposite. His motivation to leave his hometown and join SOLDIER at the same age as Cloud is very different. It drove him being a hard-worker and idealist, duty and career is number one. But later, as he read Aerith’s 23 Tiny Wishes, it reflects how he wanted to be a simple man who will always be there for her, to spend his time with her no matter how cheesy it would be. Building flower wagon and forming a new dream including her in his life was the first sign and that’s his romantic side. That’s what he would do first and fulfill if FF7R really show his alternate story that he could reunite with Aerith after being survive. Fixing her broken wagon and doing all quests in entire Sector 5, selling flower in upper plate. Becoming a mercenary is still priority but he would do it next.

No matter how a man pursues other passion that don’t involve his partner for time to time, he would always commits to the woman he loves.

As for the hope, I don’t buy a theory of Aerith will live. I think SE just give us a false hope by showing few characters survive so her death would still shock us. But I also have no idea how SE would frame two parallel timelines together because Zack is definitely alive in FF7R ending! Maybe there’s an alternate universe when both are alive, and the real one is when both are dead--as two separated things although at some point, it’ll be converged. Though, I could picture how they would reunite in death based on Aerith’s farewell monologue in FF 30th Anniversary exhibition held in 2018.

I’ve written how her farewell monologues hinted event in FF7R as few lines are accurately happened in first installment. You can read it here---> [x]. Yeah, based on it too, I’m pretty sure her death would still happen. And it’d be slightly different from OG, at least on how SE has changed the death meta since portraying Kadaj’s death in AC (2005). Yes, it still returns to the planet, but in this new meta, they would soar to the sky. Kadaj’s body dissolved as he reached Aerith’s invisible hand from the sky---we knew it’s Aerith because we hear her voice. Zack’s spirit took Angeal’s hand picking him up to the sky. And Aerith, instead sinking down to the bottom of the lake, she would take Zack’s hand (whether it’s by showing his gloved hand or just a voice). And it’s consistent to how Nojima build up their lines like this since Crisis Core:

"One day, I'll take you to see the sky, the real sky." 

"If that's the sky I'm looking at, not scary anymore." 

“Hey, Zack, the sky is closer.”

"I won't be afraid if you're with me (going to selling flower under the sky)."

"I wish I show this sky to..." 

"That girl, she said the sky frightened her." 

“Freedom. Boundless. Terrifying like never-ending sky.”

"I hate the sky."  

Yeah, Zack would really take her to the sky by metaphor, I’m confident about it haha. Nojima must’ve already imagined it in big picture.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket SE2, ep13

Back in SE01, ep12, Yuki wished for a warm home, close friends, & knowing/accepting himself. From that ep, we’re watching him reach his dream bit by bit in every passing ep.

-Writing Character plot line:

When writers start planning a multi-character story, they decide from the beginning the broad plot lines & progression for each main character in order to avoid repetition & to distinguish the main characters’ journeys from each other. All main characters will walk down the path of self-discovery, self-confrontation,  facing fears or traumas (opening the lid). However, their paths are either straight forward, or very slow, or full of big setbacks. It’s part of what makes the story compelling. I suspect the following progression when it comes to the main trio:

(1)Tohru’s very Slow Progression:

Seeing that half SE02 passed with very minimum spotlight on her issues, her progression can be very fulfilling once her arc kicks in. Also, tohru’s story is tied with kyo’s via kyoko’s fate. She is also tied with Akito. As tohru is the female protagonist, Akito is the antagonist, their issues/traumas should mirror or contradict each other, & we can see that both characters aren’t fully explored yet. So, there’s still a lot to uncover for tohru. Moreover, due to the plot’s needs & climax rules, tohru must develop very slowly.  I love slow burns so much!! but they can either be hit or mess. The result depends on how executed the progression is. Everybody keeps assuring me it’s worth it & I can’t wait!

(2) Kyo’s will be the Full of Setbacks Progression:

We already saw that in ep 9. He found hope & realized his love for tohru, admitted that he met good ppl who genuinely loved him (all positive progression). He, also, realized his pain over his mother’s suicide, suffered guilt over not helping his mom get over her depression, realized his failure in not keeping kyoko’s promise (whatever it is), guilty over watching/causing kyoko’s death, accepts punishment via confinement to atone for what he believes are his sins (negative progression). The best part abt kyo’s journey is that the negative progression is totally understandable & realistic. Not there for cheap thrills or simply the writer’s wish to present a different story than yuki’s. It is logical & engaging as well. His progression is also tied with tohru via kyoko, so he might take the backseat for a while until tohru reaches the point where he’s forced to come clean & confess abt kyoko (aka the climax). 

(3) Yuki’s Positive Direct Progression:  *i put yuki last so I can easily move on to talk abt student council.

By “direct” I’m not saying that his path is easy, I’m saying while he’ll struggle for sure, he’ll always choose/do right or get help/push in the right time to do right. He’ll win each setback. He’ll be the most perceptive, learn from others around him. I also believe (I could be wrong) that yuki is free from the restrictions of the plot. His story is related to other characters but not tied to them. Meaning his development isn’t restricted until others reach a certain point in the plot. This makes for good direct character development arc which I believe is the writer’s intention.

-Yuki’s arc will consist of three general steps (as he wished in Se01,ep12): Finding true self, Finding best friends, Finding romance. We already saw him opening the lid, realizing his abuser isn’t controlling him, accepting tohru’s help, realizing his big dependency on her which is a huge self-awareness point cuz this ep shows yuki moving away little by little from tohru & finding his own friends/world. Finding true self will take over all his arc, we’ll see more each ep. Finding friends has happened this ep. Finding romance is the last step. Yuki will have his own version of everything he was/is jealous of kyo for. He already got his own yun-yun.

-The student council: Kakure & Machi are the main characters. You don’t introduce a boy & a girl at the end of SE01 & the opening of SE02 without them being major characters. It’s classic anime/show move. Kakure will be Yuki’s best buddy, Machi will be his love-interest. It’s as clear as day light! but this doesn’t make it less interesting at all. It’s all abt the journey. The other two in the council, i guess only exist to push things faster. Without kimi, yuki calling machi by her first name would’ve taken way longer. But thanks to Kimi, Machi is the only non-sohma/important female character with her first name in yuki’s world. One step towards putting Machi as yuki’s love-interest by making her equal to yuki. Remember yuki is still struggling to call tohru by her first name as he feels indebted to her & extremely dependent. But Machi is just Machi. Not Miss kuragi. Kimi did her job. Duno abt the chibi kid tho, lol.

-Yuki’s jealousy/self-depreciating feelings:

I love when characters have negative thoughts! cuz it makes good story telling. Yuki has expressed before how jealous he is of kyo (kyo is jealous of yuki as well, but these two don’t know that abt each other). Now, yuki jealous of kakure, someone he doesn’t have a past with. Moreover, yuki isn’t only jealous of them, he believes that them having a spotlight means he’s in the dark. “he glows with light I don’t posses, so bright, I’ll disappear”. That’s a negative & destructive thought. logically, Kakure/kyo having friends isn’t related to yuki not having ones. He can have friends regardless of them. But yuki doesn’t see that, he doesn’t see his ability to make his own friends, his head is filled with inferiority that seeing others glow automatically means he doesn’t. Yuki learning to not tie his self worth to others is huge step. Kakure does that. Yuki learned.

However there is a lesson here that yuki lectured kakure abt but he himself is yet to fully learn/realize. Seeing others happy, doesn’t mean they’re truly happy or you know what they’re going through. Kyo looked like the winner here to both kakure & yuki, walking home with the girl they’re both interested in & they both assume he’s happy. (kakure seems somehow interested in her/not even going home & waiting for yuki to confirm tohru’s status with kyo). The reality is far from what kakure thinks. Kyo isn’t happily in love at all. He’s facing confinement & is feeling guilt every minute. Yuki thinks kyo is better than him & that kyo’s struggles in loving/dating tohru are unbelievable/stupid. Not knowing the story of kyoko’s chilling words “I won’t forgive you”. Kyo, too, is guilty of the same sentiment, thinks yuki is better than him, not knowing the struggle he has. The lesson here is everybody struggles. Don’t take things at face value & undermine others’ pain. But that is a lesson to be learned way later.  After all learning that means understanding the other better. It means the story ends. XD

Side Notes:

seeing kimi’s design made me sad. How come furuba team never gave tohru cute upper eyelashes! sometimes tohru’s eyes seem weirdly eyelashes-less.

Kyo is kyonkyon. Yuki is yunyun. What is tohru’s nickname?

I love predicting plot & being either right or wrong! So fun!! I enjoy all the journeys all characters go through!

Machi has a story. All stoic silent characters do.

Comedy take over 70% of this ep. It’s understandable as the writer needs viewers to quickly get attached to these new characters introduced late in the story.

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Confessions George Weasley x reader(smut)

Okay, honestly this was really long but I hope @mistelleart who requested this loves it because I love George, maybe not as much as Fred I like him just a tad more hence my name, and I am so glad I got the chance to write for him too since most of my writings seem to shine on Fred.  Anyways, I’m sorry it’s super long but I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I liked writing it.  Love you guys!! :))  Also, I’m gonna be going on a trip with one of my lovely friends so I’m gonna have a long ride so feel free to send more requests so I can pass the time while I’m in the car.

Quick little prologue* 

As everybody was preparing to fight and protect themselves against...he-who-must-not-be-named and his group.  Your gaze lingered towards one of your long time friends, George Weasley, with his flaming red hair you would recognize anywhere and the sound of his laugh that seemed to make you heart flutter as if it might jump out.  Closing your eyes as you took a deep breath you looked away from him, your crush, you liked him but never had the courage especially since he was always linked together with Fred but you promised yourself that no matter what if you all lived through this you would tell him your feelings.

*Onwards to the story(after the battle)*

After the battle, you walked around although hurt you trudged on trying to find the familiar face of red hair you had grown used to.  As soon as you spotted your friends Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron a breath of relief came out slightly but a weight still fell on your shoulders.  “You guys alright?” you asked walking towards them, Hermione’s head lifted as your gaze shifted towards her hands entwined with Ron’s.  How cute, I’ve been waiting for them to get it on for ages.  You thought to yourself as you looked up and smiled softly.  Hermione answered first, “We’re fine but...” her gaze fell down to your abdomen as her brow furrowed, “y/n, I think you need to get that checked.”  You cut her off quickly, there was something you had to do first, “I’m fine.  Do you know w-where George is?”  Hermione and Ginny shared a glance. “I saw him on the other side, Fred’s being treated right now, but they’re all okay.”  You nodded at Ginny mentally thanking her as you quickly sauntered towards the direction she had pointed you in.  You closed your eyes at the sight of so many...dead bodies of everyone you knew or at least had passed by once a day.  Releasing the breath you’ve been holding you made your way to the group of red heads huddled together as you spotted George.  Quickly making your way to him you hugged him from behind, feeling his body tense slightly before turning towards you to smile.  He seemed to relax as her pushed the hair from you face, “I was wondering..” Cutting him off you quickly placed your lips on his fully before muttering, “I’ve been waiting ages for this, Weasley.”  Whether it was from the blood loss or the realization that you had just kissed your lifelong crush you felt pain in your head as your body fell limp and the sounds of shouts filled around you.  You awoke later, the sun was coming up and setting a purpleish shadow across the room.  Looking around you saw Ginny sitting next to you, “Hey, you’re awake.” she whispered softly as if speaking to a child.  Your lips twitched upwards as you tried to sit up, “Woah, hey you need to take it slow.  The nurses that came over healed you mostly but they said you should take it slow just to be sure.”  Nodding you laid back down, “How long?”  “You’ve been like this 3 days now.” she answered, “George has been visiting you everyday, the chocolates are all from him y’know.”  You looked to the side at a stack of chocolates that you probably couldn’t finish in a week if you tried.  Giggling you looked up, “He remembered my favorite.”  Ginny nudged you slightly, “Of course he did.  I heard of the little thing you did to him before passing out.”  Flashing back to what you had done your face quickly went hot and you were sure you looked like a ripe tomato.  “Me and Fred have been trying to get you two together for ages.  I mean the tension between you two...so obvious.”  she said, chuckling the last part as she opened a chocolate for herself and offering you one.  The door opened to the room as you noticed a head peek in, the very one you had just been speaking about.  “Well, speak of the devil.” Ginny said giving you a mischievous smirk and wink, “I’ve gotta go take care of some things so...” 

You gave her a quick glare before smiling as George took her place and held your hand.  “Merlin, you’re okay.” he murmured.  He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days with bags under his eyes and hair messy.  You reached your hand up to smooth it down as you placed your hand on his, “How come you look worse than me?”  George snorted before snickering, “Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately, y/n?”  You leaned your head back laughing as you punched his leg.  George’s smile was quickly replaced with a serious expression as he said, ‘I’ve been thinking about..the k-kiss.” You felt the heat rise from head to toe as he cleared his throat, “I wanted to be the one who did it first y’know but guess you beat me to it.”  The heat burned your skin as his words finally got through to you. “You mean you liked...” “Yes.  Oh god for ages since the day I first laid eyes on you y/n.”  Your mind raced as something clicked, “Well, there is another thing that you can be first to if you lock the door.”  George seemed confused at first but it seemed to click as he smiled and got up to the lock the door.  You weren’t in a hospital so you wouldn’t disturb anybody you were in your room at your parent’s house.  George leaned over and placed his hand against your face as his hand stroked your cheek before placing his lips on yours.  It felt like molten lava against your lips as they molded together and you breathed in his scent, which smelled like chocolate and a hint of fresh spring air.  He quickly placed his fingers to adeptly unbutton your top as he pulled his shirt off.  Running your hands along his lean torso you pulled him down towards you and kissed along his jaw.  A groan vibrated through his neck as he looked at you for confirmation before pulling your pants off and throwing it to the floor.  Your eyes locked as his hands burned a trail down your body and stopped between your legs.  The pool of want grew between your legs and so did the slight feeling of nervousness.  His lips locked with yours once again as they traveled down to your breasts.  you unhooked the bra and tossed it away as his lips closed hungrily around one as the his hands moved to pull aside your underwear.  As the air hit your slit you gasped at the feeling as his fingers slowly moved to glide along it before focusing on the clit.  At the new sensation of pleasure you leaned your head to the side trying to stifle the gasps and moans of pleasure erupting from you.  You focused your eyes on George’s eyes as they seemed to burn holes through you watching your reactions, as if looking for praise.  His fingers moved towards your slit as he arched them inwards.  His lips, which felt plush and slightly chapped, traveled down your stomach and buried between your legs as they sucked and lick your clit.  The feelings of pleasure built in your stomach as his fingers curved up.  the pit of pleasure seemed to fall apart as you shuddered before releasing a heavy breath.  George licked his lips as he smiled, his usual quirky smile, that seemed to brighten your day.  As if by habit your lips curled in response as his linked to yours, you felt the passion in the kiss as he greedily pulled your bottom lip slightly.  Your fingers traveled down his toned torso as they stopped at the hem of his pants.  Pulling at them slightly seemed to catch the red haired boy’s attention as he quickly pulled them off along with his briefs.  His length was already hardened as you leaned up softly and placed your hand along the tip and down to the base.  As he tossed his red hair back a moan escaped his lips as his brown eyes focused on your movements.  Moving along faster George bit his lips as his hips thrust forward.  His hands caught your as he pushed them beside your head as his gaze locked with yours.  Brown eyes stared into yours as if asking for permission and you nodded.  As he slid in, his eyes closed and a gasp left your lips at the feelings of discomfort filled you.  George’s eyes locked onto yours before moving slowly as the discomfort was slowly replaced with the feelings of pleasure.  Moans escaped your lips as his hips met yours.  His lips locked onto the side of your neck as they bit along your jaw.  “I love you, y/n.”  Your eyes moved along his jaw as you stifled a moan before replying, “I love you too.”  The pleasure seemed to build like a fire in your pit as the room filled with the sounds of breathing and small whispered confessions of love from George.  George’s hips seemed to lose the rhythm they had before as they jerked forward.  He placed one hand along your cheek as his other went to circle the clit as the pleasure from before seemed to double, you jerked your hips upwards trying to meet his thrusts.  finally, the pleasure seemed to unravel in the bottom of your pit as your back arched and moaned rather breathily against George's skin.  George seemed to hit his peak of climax as he thrust deeper before shaking and shuddering before pulling away.  He laid next to you on the sheets over you as he turned to you and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before placing another on your lips.  “I’ve loved you for so long and I don’t ever want to think about losing you again.  I love you y/n l/n.”  His eyes seemed to spill with passion as they landed on yours.  “I love you too, George Weasley, and I’ll never leave you so don’t even think that you’ll get rid of me anytime soon.”  His chest seemed to shudder as chuckled erupted from his lips, “I wouldn’t even think about it.”

[star-captain]

Pirate Attack- Part Two

I was really excited to finish this story, the climax was really fun to write. Hopefully my next piece should be the official start of ‘Wandering Stars’, a story arc of Red, Avon, And Ecto. It’ll include adventure, mysterious enemies, and the infinity portal to hermitcraft!

Anyways, here’s Pirate Attack- Part Two. Red and the hermits are planning their assault on Xisuma’s guardian farm, but it’s not without dangers to dismantle a massacre. 

Red is @theguardiansofredland​ ‘s gremlin.

Red has seen ships before, but never has he seen one that’s still afloat. At least, not one as big as the Juggernaut. It’s busy, crewmembers shifting past him like fish through a coral reef. The other hermits are impressed by the ship and it’s crew. At the helm, Cleo looks like the captain everyone knows she is. Her burning orange hair waves in the wind that fills the sails. She is the pirate queen. 

The galleon sails away from Sahara’s shores, off towards the deep ocean where Xisuma’s farm resides. Mumbo and Iskall start planning intricate redstone devices to take out the machine, and Cleo is hard at work ordering her ship and plotting the course. Red can’t help but clamber onto the bowsprit, the wood beam jutting out over the water. It’s dangerous to be out there, where one slip could mean plunging into the ocean. Even though Red can’t drown, the Juggernaut could hit her, and barnacles are sharp. 

She can’t help but watch the water as the ship cuts through the waves. Water parting ways and cradling the hull. It curls upward, before peaking and turning to whitecaps that escape in the wake. Red can feel the seaspray on her face, cool water cleansing her of negative thoughts and feelings. The ocean changes color depending on the depth, starting at a light blue among the shallow coral, deepening into a forest green, before navy blue takes precedence over the deep ocean. Yet each wave, each ripple is a different shade of the whole mosaic. It’s art, the ocean, and the ship is a paintbrush mixing colors across the canvas. 

“The others are talking about things way over my head, and I honestly just wanna be out of Cleo’s way. Mind if I join ya?” Red looks over their shoulder, seeing Grian standing precariously on the bowsprit. Red nods, and he takes a seat next to them. “We’ve met before. You scared the life out of me. I didn’t really hear anything you said, I just knew you were not happy to see me.” 

“Do you blame me? You were about to take a pickaxe to my home.” Red chuckles. 

“Iskall explained things to me. I feel really bad for that now. No hard feelings?” 

Red pauses, thinking for a moment. “Nah, hopefully things can be smooth sailing from now on.” Just as they say that, the boat hits a large wave. Grian clasps onto the wood for dear life, while Red grabs hold of line connected to the sails. “Though now that I know where you live, you might have trouble on your hands if you mess with my stuff.” 

“I don’t mind trouble. I’m usually the start of it as well.” The two look up to the distance, able to see Xisuma’s farm. The massive, star shaped angles float in the sky, like shards of glass floating down from the heavens. Grian can’t help but look at the build in awe. Red can’t help but growl with disgust. Xisuma’s massacre machine is simple, and powerful. And because of it’s simplicity, it’s almost impossible for Red to break it for long. 

“I always forget how incredible this all is. Just out here, in the middle of nowhere.” Mumbo states. The entire ship is quiet, observing the structure. 

“And you’re sure Xisuma is alright with us destroying the farm?” Cleo asks, leaning on the wheel to get a better view beyond the sails. 

“Well, we aren’t going to aim for all that.” Iskall points out. He looks to Red. “I think you know more about this than any of us. How is his farm built?” 

Grian and Red slide off the bowsprit, though they all look over the starboard side into the water. Red points below the surface. “All those walls are the...farm.” She frowns at calling it such a thing. She doesn’t think it’s like a farm. It doesn’t raise things, just kills what’s already there. It’s a butcher shop. “I’ve tried to destroy it before, but...uhh...it’s quite a hot project.” She shivers remembering the lava that would sometimes spill out, nearly catching her fins on fire. 

“I think Mumbo and I can mess with the redstone inside.” Iskall offers. Mumbo smiles, holding up a repeater board and vials of redstone dust. 

“I can fire on the outer walls, knock it down and hopefully stop the farm from running.” Cleo saunters to the group, nodding her head at the cannons all lined up and ready to fire. 

“And from there, Red and I can go in and make sure it stays off for good.” Grian finalizes.

“Hopefully we can save the guardians while we’re there.” Red adds.

“Won’t they fire their bubble lasers at us?” Grian makes a little noise for effect. 

“The ‘bubble lasers’ are the least of your worries.” Red states with a chuckle, clambering onto the side of the ship. Ready to get to work. “I’d be more worried about the lava if I were you.” 

The group disbands. Iskall and Mumbo take a headstart, rowing off in a shared boat into the entrance of Xisuma’s base. The two boys are giddy, feeling like real pirates infiltrating an enemy fortress. From the ship, Cleo can see the two disappear into the prismarine structure as she hangs from the rigging way up high. Below her, her crew scrambles to fill each and every cannon with gunpowder and a cannonball. They’re broadside with the base, and plan on making multiple trips around. Firing on the defenseless structure as low as possible. And on the stern of the ship, waiting for the signal, is the pair of troublemakers. Grian holds an assortment of material to keep from drowning, whether it’s a respiration enchanted turtle helmet or a few bottles of water breathing. Mother Cleo is not letting any crew perish on this trip, there will only be one zombie. 

A whistle cracks through the air, followed by a bright yellow burst of the firework high above sea level. Mumbo and Iskall are in, and getting to work together reconfiguring the redstone to leave a surprise. The Juggernaut fires with such force the boat recoils backwards, cannonballs flying into the water and busting through the sand. The sails fill and the ship begins to move again. But Grian and Red aren’t onboard anymore. 

They’ve jumped ship, swimming towards the destroyed sand wall that the Juggernaut leaves behind. Grian is painfully slow compared to Red, but they do manage to get to the remnants. Grian removes blocks that Cleo’s cannons didn’t break, before swimming lower to block out the dangerous lava below. He can’t help but wave to his fellow architechs through the glass. He’s not sure if they’re laughing or arguing, covered in redstone dust and making a terrifying machine of madness. Higher up, Red rips apart the stone that traps her guardian friends. The fish struggle against the current of the moving water, but Red manages to pull them free. 

That becomes the system. Cleo bombards the farm, Grian moves in to clean up, and Red frees the guardians from an untimely death. About halfway through, the pirates hear noteblocks going off. At first at irregular and changing times and tones. But as they continue, the music begins to become recognizable.

Dunnnn na. Dunnn na Dunna dunna duna dunadunadunadunadunaduna. Grian nearly spits out his water breathing potion while hearing the song. Onboard the Juggernaut, Cleo laughs. “We’re gonna need a bigger boat!” 

The music stops after awhile, Iskall and Mumbo making their escape back to the ship. Cleo has also made a full circle of the base, raising the sails. The only people left in the attack are Grian and Red. Grian eventually swims back as well, taking a look at the pair’s work. “I think I have all the lava blocked off. No fish is getting cooked anymore.” 

“I want to do a lap, make sure no one is still stuck.” Red advises. Grian looks up at the surface, then nods and starts to rise. Red swims along the destruction, observing the pirate attack’s results. The current of the moving water is strong, but nothing she can’t handle. Every part of the sand wall has been removed, and repurposed to cover the lava below. No guardians are stuck in the remnants of the farm- except one. 

It’s a young guardian, still gaining the strength to swim. It’s little, about the size of a salmon. The guppy can’t escape the torrent of water. Red swims over, reaching out to tug the guardian to freedom. “It’s okay, sometimes you just gotta keep swimming. With a little help.” 

She pulls it to freedom, only to trade places. The current is strong, almost as strong as a magma block. Despite Red swimming up with all her strength, she’s losing ground. But what does it matter? Grian got all the lava, she can just let it push her to the bottom and swim out there. 

Except when Red looks down, it’s not sand below. Grian missed a few blocks here. The water starts to get hotter. Red attempts to surface as fast as he can, but it’s not match. This water was built for death, and he’s stuck in it. 

On the Juggernaut, the hermits have gone quiet. Grian thought Red was right behind him. There didn’t seem to be anymore guardians, so he should be back by now. Cleo is starting to go into her motherly mode. “Someone should check on him.”  

“I don’t have any more water breathing. Only my helmet.” Grian tugs the turtle shell off his head, blond hair flattened by the helmet. 

“I’ll look.” Iskall swipes the piece of armor, and clambers down the ladder to the water. The boat is still moving, so he grips the ropes tight and ducks his head under. At first he sees nothing, no sign of the kipling. Maybe he just left? But then Iskall spots him. Red is struggling, losing strength and a battle against the water current pushing him down. 

Down towards an uncovered patch of lava.  There are only two or three of those, sources that Grian didn’t realize existed. It’s separated from the water, so falling in is a death sentence. It was built to kill. Iskall gasps as he resurfaces, scrambling up the side of the ship to the deck. “Red’s stuck, being pulled into a part of the farm still active.” 

“We need to save them.” Cleo demands. She starts to clamber over the railing, but Iskall pulls her back to the deck. 

“Red can’t manage to swim through that on their own, how are we supposed to be able to? We need a different plan.” Iskall observes the deck. Mumbo pulls out his remaining stock of redstone, Grian shifts through stacks of sand. They don’t have much time. But it’s Grian’s clever little mind that comes up with an idea. 

Below the water, Red is getting exhausted. No matter how hard she swims, she can’t escape. A part of her is glad that she was the one to get caught, because a human could not withstand such a current. At least her new friends aren’t trapped here. The lava below is getting closer, and Red’s muscles scream for her to give up, to let go. To stop postponing what seems inevitable now. Of all the ways for Red to perish, she never expected to die in these damned guardian farms. 

She can’t fight any longer. She can’t get her arms to push, her legs to kick. Red becomes dead weight, and the current pulls her faster towards the seafloor. Towards the lava. She can see the surface, the sunlight refracting the light above her into broken shafts. The water at her back keeps getting warmer, closer and closer to her demise. And in all of this? She accepts her fate. She saved her family, other guardians by tearing this down. She closes her eyes, letting the water sweep her away. 

An explosion can be heard, muffled from above the surface. The sound of water splashing, pushed out of the way of some solid. Red collides into the seafloor, the jolt snapping her eyes open. She slips out of the water current, pushed along the seafloor. Away from where lava was. Was. Now it’s filled with sand, and the flowing water harmlessly pushes her out of the way. 

She’s alive. Red breathes in, not thinking she’d have the chance to do that again. All she can do right now is lay on the sand and breathe in the water. She watches as an anchor is lowered down, and crawls onto the heavy metal. Red holds on with what little strength she has left, practically collapsing onto the wooden deck as soon as she can. Whatever the hermits are saying, she can’t hear them. She just needs to breathe, and remind herself that she’s still alive. 

“Wha-what did you do?” Red finally manages to ask. Cleo wraps a blanket around him, and hands off a cup of tea. 

“Iskall saw you were having trouble, so we devised a plan.” Cleo states. “Or, well, Grian did.” 

“We pooled our resources together. Iskall and Mumbo took one of Cleo’s cannons and modified it to shoot sand blocks that I had.” Grian nods his head over to the contraption. Redstone is all over the deck in a haphazard way, in no way compact or pretty. 

“You did all that for me?” Red questions. 

“We weren’t just going to let you die. Hermits stick together. I’m sorry we couldn’t put it together faster.” 

“No, no. Don’t be.” Red looks at them all, and smiles. “I’m just glad to not be a fried fish.” 

The whole crew stares for a second, before realizing it’s a joke. Grian laughs first, bubbling up into a throaty laugh. Mumbo and Cleo realize soon after, and Iskall breathes out his laugh last. “Let’s get back to shore,” Mumbo states. “I don’t want to be here when Xisuma arrives and starts hearing the Jaws music but doesn’t know where it’s coming from. And every other surprise we left.”

[grigori77]

2019 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30.  GLASS – back in 2000, I went from liking the work of The Sixth Sense’s writer-director M. Night Shyamalan to becoming a genuine FAN thanks to his sneakily revisionist deconstruction of superhero tropes, Unbreakable.  It’s STILL my favourite film of his to date, and one of my Top Ten superhero movies EVER, not just a fascinating examination of the mechanics of the genre but also a very satisfying screen origin story – needless to say I’m one of MANY fans who’ve spent nearly two decades holding out hope for a sequel.  Flash forward to 2016 and Shyamalan’s long-overdue return-to-form sleeper hit, Split, which not only finally put his career back on course but also dropped a particularly killer end twist by actually being that very sequel.  Needless to say 2019 was the year we FINALLY got our PROPER reward for all our patience – Glass is the TRUE continuation of the Unbreakable universe and the closer of a long-intended trilogy.  Turns out, though, that it’s also his most CONTROVERSIAL film for YEARS, dividing audiences and critics alike with its unapologetically polarizing plot and execution – I guess that, after a decade of MCU and a powerhouse trilogy of Batman movies from Chris Nolan, we were expecting an epic, explosive action-fest to close things out, but that means we forgot exactly what it is about Shyamalan we got to love so much, namely his unerring ability to subvert and deconstruct whatever genre he’s playing around in.  And he really doesn’t DO spectacle, does he?  That said, this film is still a surprisingly BIG, sprawling piece of work, even if it the action is, for the most part, MUCH more internalised than most superhero movies.  Not wanting to drop any major spoilers on the few who still haven’t seen it, I won’t give away any major plot points, suffice to say that ALL the major players from both Unbreakable and Split have returned – former security guard David Dunn (Bruce Willis) has spent the past nineteen years exploring his super-strength and near-invulnerability while keeping Philadelphia marginally safer as hooded vigilante the Overseer, and the latest target of his crime-fighting crusade is Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), the vessel of 24 split personalities collectively known as the Horde, who’s continuing his cannibalistic serial-murder spree through the streets.  Both are being hunted by the police, as well as Dr. Ellie Staple (series newcomer Sarah Paulson), a clinical psychiatrist specialising in treating individuals who suffer the delusional belief that they’re superheroes, her project also encompassing David’s former mentor-turned-nemesis Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson), the eponymous Mr. Glass, whose life-long suffering from a crippling bone disease that makes his body dangerously fragile has done nothing to blunt the  genius-level intellect that’s made him a ruthlessly accomplished criminal mastermind. How these remarkable individuals are brought together makes for fascinating viewing, and while it may be a good deal slower and talkier than some might have preferred, this is still VERY MUCH the Shyamalan we first came to admire – fiendishly inventive, slow-burn suspenseful and absolutely DRIPPING with cool earworm dialogue, his characteristically mischievous sense of humour still present and correct, and he’s retained that unswerving ability to wrong-foot us at every turn, right up to one of his most surprising twist endings to date.  The cast are, as ever, on fire, the returning hands all superb while those new to the universe easily measure up to the quality of talent on display – Willis and Jackson are, as you’d expect, PERFECT throughout, brilliantly building on the incredibly solid groundwork laid in Unbreakable, while it’s a huge pleasure to see Anya Taylor-Joy, Spencer Treat Clark (a fine actor we don’t see NEARLY enough of, in my opinion) and Charlayne Woodard get MUCH bigger, more prominent roles this time out, while Paulson delivers an understated but frequently mesmerising turn as the ultimate unshakable sceptic.  As with Split, however, the film is comprehensively stolen by McAvoy, whose truly chameleonic performance actually manages to eclipse its predecessor in its levels of sheer genius.  Altogether this is another sure-footed step in the right direction for a director who’s finally regained his singular auteur prowess – say what you will about that ending, but it certainly is a game-changer, as boldly revisionist as anything that’s preceded it and therefore, in my opinion, exactly how it SHOULD have gone.  If nothing else, this is a film that should be applauded for its BALLS …

29.  THE PEANUT BUTTER FALCON – quite possibly the year’s most adorable indie, this dramatic feature debut from documentarian writer-directors Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz largely snuck in under the radar on release, but has gone on to garner some well-deserved critical appreciation and sleeper hit success.  The lion’s share of the film’s success must surely go to the inspired casting, particularly in the central trio who drive the action – Nilson and Schwartz devised the film with Zack Gotsagen, an exceptionally talented young actor with Down’s Syndrome, specifically in mind for the role of Zak, a wrestling obsessive languishing in a North Carolina retirement home who dreams of escaping his stifling confines and going to the training camp of his hero, the Saltwater Redneck (Thomas Haden Church), where he can learn to become a pro wrestler; after slipping free, Zak enlists the initially wary help of down-at-heel criminal fisherman Tyler (Shia LaBaouf) in reaching his intended destination, while the pair are pursued by Zak’s primary caregiver, Eleanor (Dakota Johnson).  Needless to say the unlikely pair bond on the road, and when Eleanor is reluctantly forced to tag along with them, a surrogate family is formed … yeah, the plot is so predictable you can see every twist signposted from miles back, but that familiarity is never a problem because these characters are so lovingly written and beautifully played that you’ve fallen for them within five minutes of meeting them, so you’re effortlessly swept along for the ride. The three leads are pure gold – this is the most laid back and cuddly Shia’s been for years, but his lackadaisical charm is pleasingly tempered with affecting pathos driven by a tragic loss in Tyler’s recent past, while Johnson is sensible, sweet and likeably grounded, even when Eleanor’s at her most exasperated, but Gotsagen is the real surprise, delivering an endearingly unpredictable, livewire performance that blazes with true, honest purity and total defiance in the face of any potential difficulties society may try to throw at Zak – while there’s excellent support from Church in a charmingly awkward late-film turn that goes a long way to reminding us just what an acting treasure he is, as well as John Hawkes and rapper Yelawolf as a pair of lowlife crab-fishermen hunting for Tyler, intending to wreak (not entirely undeserved) revenge on him for an ill-judged professional slight.  Enjoying a gentle sense of humour and absolutely CRAMMED with heartfelt emotional heft, this really was one of the most downright LOVEABLE films of 2019.

28.  PET SEMATARY – first off, let me say that I never saw the 1989 feature adaptation of Stephen King’s story, so I have no comparative frame of reference there – I WILL say, however, that the original novel is, in my opinion, one of the strongest offerings from America’s undisputed master of literary horror, so any attempt made to bring it to the big screen had better be a good one.  Thankfully, this version more than delivers in that capacity, proving to be one of the more impressive of his cinematic outings in recent years (not quite up to the standard of The Mist or It Chapter 1, perhaps, but certainly on a par with the criminally overlooked 1408), as well as one of the year’s top horror offerings.  This may be the feature debut of directing double-act Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer, but they both display a wealth of natural talent here, wrangling bone-chilling scares and a pervading atmosphere of oppressive dread to deliver a top-notch screen fright-fest that works its way under your skin and stays put for days after.  Jason Clarke is a classic King everyman hero as Boston doctor Louis Creed, displaced to the small Maine town of Ludlow as he trades the ER for a quiet clinic practice so he can spent more time with his family – Amy Seimetz (Upstream Color, Stranger Things), excellent throughout as his haunted, emotionally fragile wife Rachel, toddler son Gage (twins Hugo and Lucas Lavole), and daughter Ellie (newcomer Jeté Laurence, BY FAR the film’s biggest revelation, delivering to the highest degree even when her role becomes particularly intense).  Their new home seems idyllic, the only blots being the main road at the end of their drive which experiences heavy traffic from speeding trucks, and the children’s pet cemetery in the woods at the back of their garden, which has become something of a local landmark.  But there’s something far darker in the deeper places beyond, an ancient place of terrible power Louis is introduced to by their well-meaning but ultimately fallible elderly neighbour Jud (one of the best performances I’ve ever seen from screen legend John Lithgow) when his daughter’s beloved cat Church is run over. The cat genuinely comes back, but he’s irrevocably changed, the once gentle and lovable furball now transformed into a menacingly mangy little psychopath, and his resurrection sets off a chain of horrific events destined to devour the entire family … this is supernatural horror at its most inherently unnerving, mercilessly twisting the screws throughout its slow-burn build to the inevitable third act bloodbath and reaching a bleak, soul-crushing climax that comes close to rivalling the still unparalleled sucker-punch of The Mist – the adaptation skews significantly from King’s original at the mid-point, but even purists will be hard-pressed to deny that this is still VERY MUCH in keeping with the spirit of the book right up to its harrowing closing shot.  The King of Horror has been well served once again – fans can rest assured that his dark imagination continues to inspire some truly great cinematic scares …

27.  THE REPORT – the CIA’s notorious use of torture to acquire information from detainees in Guantanamo Bay and various other sites around the world in the wake of September 11, 2001, has been a particularly spiky political subject for years now, one which has gained particular traction with cinema-goers over the years thanks to films like Rendition and, of course, controversial Oscar-troubler Zero Dark Thirty.  It’s also a particular bugbear of screenwriter Scott Z. Burns (The Bourne Ultimatum, Contagion, Side Effects) – his parents are both psychologists, and he found it particularly offensive that a profession he knows was created to help people could have been turned into such a damaging weapon against the human psyche, inexorably leading him to taking up this passion project, championed by its producer, and Burns’ long-time friend and collaborator, Steven Soderbergh.  It tells the true story of Senate staffer Daniel Jones’ five-year battle to bring his damning 6,300-page study of the CIA’s enhanced interrogation program, commissioned by the Senate Intelligence Committee, into the light of day in the face of increasingly intense and frequently underhanded resistance from the Agency and various high-ranking officials within the US Government whose careers could be harmed should their own collusion be revealed. In lesser hands this could have been a clunky, unappetisingly dense excuse for a slow-burn political thriller that drowned in its own exposition, but Burns handles the admittedly heavyweight material with deft skill and makes each increasingly alarming revelation breathlessly compelling while he ratchets up the tension by showing just what a seemingly impossible task Jones and his small but driven team faced.  The film would have been nought, however, without a strong cast, and this one has a killer – taking a break from maintaining his muscle-mass for Star Wars, Adam Driver provides a suitably robust narrative focus as Jones, an initially understated workman who slowly transforms into an incensed moral crusader as he grows increasingly filled with righteous indignation by the vile subject matter he’s repeatedly faced with, and he’s provided with sterling support from the likes of Annette Bening, delivering her best performance in years as Senator Dianne Feinstein, Jones’ staunchest supporter, the ever-wonderful Ted Levine as oily CIA director John O. Brennan, Tim Blake Nelson as a physician contracted by the CIA to assist with interrogations who became genuinely disgusted by the horrors he witnessed, and Matthew Rhys as an unnamed New York Times reporter Jones considers leaking the report to when it looks like it might never be released.  This is powerful stuff, and while it may only mark Burns’ second directorial feature (after his obscure debut Pu-239), he handles the gig like a seasoned pro, milking the material for every drop of dramatic tension while keeping the narrative as honest, forthright and straightforward as possible, and the end result makes for sobering, distressing and thoroughly engrossing viewing.  Definitely one of the most important films not only of 2019, but of the decade itself, and one that NEEDS to be seen.

26.  DARK PHOENIX – wow, this really has been a year for mistreated sequels, hasn’t it?  There’s a seriously stinky cloud of controversy surrounding what is now, in light of recent developments between Disney and Twentieth Century Fox, the last true Singer-era X-Men movie, a film which saw two mooted release dates (first November 2018 then the following February, before finally limping onto screens with very little fanfare in June 2019, almost as if Fox wanted to bury it. Certainly rumours of its compromise were rife, particularly regarding supposed rushed reshoots because of clashing similarities with Marvel’s major tent-pole release Captain Marvel (and given the all-conquering nature of the MCU there was no way they were having that, was there?), so like many I was expecting a clunky mess, maybe even a true stinker to rival X-Men Origins: Wolverine.  In truth, while it’s not perfect, the end result is nothing like the turd we all feared – the final film is, in fact, largely a success, worthy of favourable comparison with its stronger predecessors.  It certainly makes much needed amends for the disappointing mismanagement of the source comics’ legendary Dark Phoenix saga in 2006’s decidedly compromised original X-Men trilogy capper The Last Stand, this time treating the story with the due reverence and respect it deserves as well as serving as a suitably powerful send-off for more than one beloved key character.  Following the “rebooted” path of the post-Days of Future Past timeline, it’s now 1992, and after the world-changing events of Apocalypse the X-Men have become a respected superhero team with legions of fans and their own personal line to the White House, while mutants at large have mostly become accepted by the regular humans around them.  Then a hastily planned mission into space takes a turn for the worst and Jean Grey (Game of Thrones’ Sophie Turner) winds up absorbing an immensely powerful, thoroughly inexplicable cosmic force that makes her powers go haywire while also knocking loose repressed childhood traumas Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) would rather had stayed buried, sending her on a dangerous spiral out of control which leads to a destructive confrontation and the inadvertent death of a teammate.  Needless to say, the situation soon becomes desperate as Jean goes on the run and the world starts to turn against them all once again … all in all, then, it’s business as usual for the cast and crew of one of Fox’s flagship franchises, and it SHOULD have gone off without a hitch.  When Bryan Singer opted not to return this time around (instead setting his sights on Queen biopic Bohemian Rhapsody), key series writer Simon Kinberg stepped into the breach for his directorial debut, and it turns out he’s got a real talent for it, giving us just the kind of robust, pacy, thrilling action-packed epic his compatriot would have delivered, filled with the same thumping great set-pieces (the final act’s stirring, protracted train battle is the unequivocal highlight here), well-observed character beats and emotional resonance we’ve come to expect from the series as a whole (then again, he does know these movies back to frond having at least co-written his fair share).  The cast, similarly, are all on top form – McAvoy and Michael Fassbender (as fan favourite Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto) know their roles so well now they can do this stuff in their sleep, but we still get to see them explore interesting new facets of their characters (particularly McAvoy, who gets to reveal an intriguing dark side to the Professor we’ve only ever seen hinted at before now), while Turner finally gets to really breathe in a role which felt a little stiff and underexplored in her series debut in Apocalypse (she EASILY forges the requisite connective tissue to Famke Janssen’s more mature and assured take in the earlier films); conversely Tye Sheridan (Cyclops), Alexandra Shipp (Storm), Kodi Smit-McPhee (Nightcrawler) and Evan Peters (Quicksilver) get somewhat short shrift but nonetheless do A LOT with what little they have, and at least Jennifer Lawrence and Nicholas Hoult still get to do plenty of dramatic heavy lifting as the last of Xavier’s original class, Raven (Mystique) and Hank McCoy (Beast); the only real weak link in the cast is the villain, Vuk, a shape-shifting alien whose quest to seize the power Jean’s appropriated is murkily defined at best, but at least Jessica Chastain manages to invest her with enough icy menace to keep things from getting boring.  All in all, then, this is very much a case of business as usual, Kinberg and co keeping the action thundering along at a suitably cracking pace throughout (powered by a typically epic score from Hans Zimmer), and the film only really comes off the rails in its final moments, when that aforementioned train finally comes off its tracks and the reported reshoots must surely kick in – as a result this is, to me, most reminiscent of previous X-flick The Wolverine, which was a rousing success for the majority of its runtime, only coming apart in its finale thanks to that bloody ridiculous robot samurai.  The climax is, therefore, a disappointment, too clunky and sudden and overly neat in its denouement (we really could have done with a proper examination of the larger social impact of these events), but it’s little enough that it doesn’t spoil what came before … which just makes the film’s mismanagement and resulting failure, as well as its subsequent treatment from critics and fans alike, all the more frustrating.  This film deserved much better, but ultimately looks set to be disowned and glossed over by most of the fanbase as the property as a whole goes through the inevitable overhaul now that Disney/Marvel owns Fox and plans to bring the X-Men and their fellow mutants into the MCU fold.  I feel genuinely sorry for the one remaining X-film, The New Mutants, which is surely destined for spectacular failure after its similarly shoddy round of reschedules finally comes to an end this summer …

25.  IT CHAPTER 2 – back in 2017, Mama director Andy Muschietti delivered the first half of his ambitious two-film adaptation of one of Stephen King’s most popular and personal novels, which had long been considered un-filmable (the 90s miniseries had a stab, but while it deserves its cult favourite status it certainly fell short in several places) until Muschietti and screenwriters Cary Joji Fukunaga and Gary Dauberman seemingly did the impossible, and the end result was the top horror hit of the year.  Ultimately, then, it was gonna be a tough act to follow, and there was MAJOR conjecture whether they could repeat that success with this second half.  Would lightning strike twice?  Well, the simple answer is … mostly.  2017’s Chapter 1 was a stone-cold masterpiece, and one of the strongest elements in its favour was the extremely game young cast of newcomers and relative unknown child actors who brought the already much beloved Loser’s Club to perfectly-cast life, a seven-strong gang of gawky pre-teen underdogs you couldn’t help loving, which made it oh-so-easy to root for them as they faced off against that nightmarish shape-shifting child-eating monster, Pennywise the Dancing Clown.  It was primal, it was terrifying, and it was BURSTING with childhood nostalgia that thoroughly resonated with an audience hungry for more 80s-set coming-of-age genre fare after the runaway success of Stranger Things.  Bringing the story into the present day with the Losers now returning to their childhood home of Derry, Maine as forty-something adults, Chapter 2 was NEVER going to achieve the same pulse-quickening electric charge the first film pulled off, was it?  Thankfully, with the same director and (mostly) the same writing crew on hand (Fukunaga jumped ship but Dauberman was there to finish up with the help of Jason Fuchs and an uncredited Jeffrey Jurgensen) there’s still plenty of that old magic left over, so while it’s not quite the same second time round, this still feels very much like the same adventure, just older, wiser and a bit more cynical.  Here’s a more relevant reality check, mind – those who didn’t approve of the first film’s major changes from the book are going to be even more incensed by this, but the differences here are at least organic and in keeping with the groundwork laid in Chapter 1, and indeed this film in particular is a VERY different beast from the source material, but these differences are actually kind of a strength here, Muschietti and co. delivering something that works MUCH better cinematically than a more faithful take would have. Anyway, the Loser’s Club are back, all grown up and (for the most part) wildly successful living FAR AWAY from Derry with dream careers and seemingly perfect lives.  Only Mike Hanlon has remained behind to hold vigil over the town and its monstrous secret, and when a new spree of disappearances and grisly murders begins he calls his old friends back home to fulfil the pact they all swore to uphold years ago – stop Pennywise once and for all.  The new cast are just as excellent as their youthful counterparts – Jessica Chastain and James McAvoy are, of course, the big leads here as grown up Beverley Marsh and Bill Denbrough, bringing every watt of star power they can muster, but the others hold more interest, with Bill Hader perfectly cast (both director and child actor’s personal first choice) as smart-mouth Richie Tozier, Isaiah Mustafah (best known as the Old Spice guy from those hilarious commercials) playing VERY MUCH against type as Mike, Jay Ryan (successful on the small screen in Top of the Lake and Beauty & the Beast, but very much getting his cinematic big break here) as a slimmed-down and seriously buffed-out Ben Hanscom, James Ransone (Sinister) as neurotic hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak, and Andy Bean (Power, the recent Swamp Thing series) as ever-rational Stan Uris – but we still get to hang out with the original kids too in new flashbacks that (understandably) make for some of the film’s best scenes, while Bill Skarsgard is as terrifying as ever as he brings new ferocity, insidious creepiness and even a touch of curious back-story to Pennywise.  I am happy to report this new one IS just as scary as its predecessor, a skin-crawling, spine-tingling, pants-wetting cold sweat of a horror-fest that works its way in throughout its substantial running time and, as before, sticks with you LONG after the credits have rolled, but it’s also got the same amount of heart, emotional heft and pathos, nostalgic charm (albeit more grown-up and sullied) and playful, sometimes decidedly mischievous geeky humour, so that as soon as you’re settled in it really does feel like you’ve come home. It’s also fiendishly inventive, the final act in particular skewing in some VERY surprising new directions that there’s NO WAY you’ll see coming, and the climax also, interestingly, redresses one particularly frustrating imbalance that always bugged me about the book, making for an especially moving, heartbreaking denouement.  Interestingly, there’s a running joke in the film that pokes fun at a perceived view from some quarters that Stephen King’s endings often disappoint – there’s no such fault with THIS particular adaptation.  For me, this was altogether JUST the concluding half I was hoping for, so while it’s not as good as the first, it should leave you satisfied all the same.

24.  MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN – it’s taken Edward Norton twenty years to get his passion project adaptation of Jonathan Lethem’s novel to the big screen, but the final film was certainly worth the wait, a cool-as-ice noir thriller in which its writer-director also, of course, stars as one of the most unusual ‘tecs around.  Lionel Essrog suffers from Tourette syndrome, prone to uncontrollable ticks and vocal outbursts as well as obsessive-compulsive spirals that can really ruin his day, but he’s also got a genius-level intellect and a photographic memory, which means he’s the perfect fit for the detective agency of accomplished, highly successful New York gumshoe Frank Minna (Bruce Willis).  But when their latest case goes horribly wrong and Frank dies in a back-alley gunfight, the remaining members of the agency are left to pick up the pieces and try to find out what went wrong, Lionel battling his own personal, mental and physical demons as he tries to unravel an increasingly labyrinthine tangle of lies, deceit, corporate corruption and criminal enterprise that reaches to the highest levels of the city’s government.  Those familiar with the original novel will know that it’s set in roughly the present day, but Norton felt many aspects of the story lent themselves much better to the early 1950s, and it really was a good choice – Lionel is a man very much out his time, a very odd fit in an age of stuffy morals and repression, while the themes of racial upheaval, rampant urban renewal and massive, unchecked corporate greed feel very much of the period. Besides, there’s few things as seductive than a good noir thriller, and Norton has crafted a real GEM right here. The pace can be a little glacial at times, but this simply gives the unfolding plot and extremely rich collection of characters plenty of room to grow, while the jazzy score (from up-and-comer Daniel Pemberton, composer on Steve Jobs, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword and Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) provides a surprising complimentary accompaniment to the rather free-form narrative style and Lionel’s own scattershot, bebop style.  Norton is exceptional in the lead, landing his best role in years with an exquisitely un-self-conscious ease that makes for thoroughly compelling viewing (surely more than one nod will be due come awards-season), but he doesn’t hog ALL the limelight, letting his uniformly stellar supporting cast shine bright as well – Willis doesn’t get a huge amount of screen time, but delivers a typically strong, nuanced performance that makes his absence throughout the rest of the film keenly felt, Gugu Mbatha-Raw continues to build an impressive run of work as Laura, the seemingly unimportant woman Lionel befriends, who could actually be the key to the whole case, Alec Baldwin is coolly menacing as power-hungry property magnate and heavyweight city official Moses Randolph, the film’s nominal big-bad, Willem Dafoe is absolutely electrifying as his down-at-heel, insignificant genius brother Lou, and Boardwalk Empire’s Michael K. Williams is quietly outstanding as mysterious jazz musician Trumpet Man, while Bobby Canavale, Ethan Suplee and Dallas Roberts are all excellent as the other hands in Minna’s detective agency.  It’s a chilled-out affair, happy to hang back and let its slow-burn plot simmer while Lionel tries to navigate his job and life in general while battling his many personal difficulties, but due to the incredible calibre of the talent on offer, the incredibly rich dialogue and obligatory hardboiled gumshoe voiceover, compelling story and frequently achingly beautiful visuals, this is about as compulsively rewarding as cinema gets. Norton’s crafted a film noir worthy of comparison with the likes of L.A. Confidential and Chinatown, proving that he’s a triple-threat cinematic talent to be reckoned with.

23.  PROSPECT – I love a good cinematic underdog, there’s always some dynamite indies and sleepers that just about slip through the cracks that I end up championing every year, and one of 2019’s favourites was a minor sensation at 2018’s South By Southwest film festival, a singularly original ultra-low-budget sci-fi adventure that made a genuine virtue of its miniscule budget.  Riffing on classic eco-minded space flicks like Silent Running, it introduces a father-and-daughter prospecting team who land a potentially DEEPLY lucrative contract mining for an incredibly rare element on a toxic jungle moon – widower Damon (Transparent’s Jay Duplass), who’s downtrodden and world-weary but still a dreamer, and teenager Cee (relative newcomer Sophie Thatcher), an introverted bookworm with hidden reserves of ingenuity and fortitude.  The job starts well, Damon setting his sights on a rumoured “queen’s layer” that could make them rich beyond their wildest dreams, but when they meet smooth-talking scavenger Ezra (Narcos’ Pedro Pascal), things take a turn for the worse – Damon is killed and Cee is forced to team up with Ezra to have any hope for survival on this hostile, unforgiving moon.  Thatcher is an understated joy throughout, her seemingly detached manner belying hidden depths of intense feeling, while Pascal, far from playing a straight villain, turns Ezra into something of a tragic, charismatic antihero we eventually start to sympathise with, and the complex relationship that develops between them is a powerful, mercurial thing, the constantly shifting dynamic providing a powerful driving force for the film.  Debuting writer-directors Zeek Earl and Chris Caldwell have crafted a wonderfully introspective, multi-layered tone poem of aching beauty, using subtle visual effects and a steamy, glow-heavy colour palette to make the lush forest environs into something nonetheless eerie and inhospitable, while the various weird and colourful denizens of this deadly little world prove that Ezra may be the LEAST of the dangers Cee faces in her quest for escape.  Inventive, intriguing and a veritable feast for the eyes and intellect, this is top-notch indie sci-fi and a sign of great things to come from its creators, thoroughly deserving of major cult recognition in the future.

22.  DRAGGED ACROSS CONCRETE – S. Craig Zahler is a writer-director who’s become a major fixture on my ones-to-watch list in recent years, instantly winning me over with his dynamite debut feature Bone Tomahawk before cementing that status with awesome follow-up Brawl On Cell Block 99.  His latest is another undeniable hit that starts deceptively simply before snowballing into a sprawling urban crime epic as it follows its main protagonists – disgraced Bulwark City cops Brett Ridgeman (Mel Gibson) and Tony Lurasetti (BOCB99’s Vince Vaughn), on unpaid suspension after their latest bust leads to a PR nightmare – on a descent into a hellish criminal underworld as they set out to “seek compensation” for their situation by ripping off the score from a bank robbery spearheaded by ruthlessly efficient professional thief Lorentz Vogelmann (Thomas Kretschmann).  In lesser hands, this two-hour-forty-minute feature might have felt like a painfully padded effort that would have passed far better chopped down to a breezy 90-minutes, but Zahler is such a compellingly rich and resourceful writer that every scene is essential viewing, overflowing with exquisitely drawn characters spouting endlessly quotable, gold-plated dialogue, and the constantly shifting narrative focus brings such consistent freshness that the increasingly complex plot remains rewarding right to the end.  The two leads are both typically excellent – Vaughn gets to let loose with a far more showy, garrulous turn here than his more reserved character in his first collaboration with Zahler, while this is EASILY the best performance I’ve seen Gibson deliver in YEARS, the grizzled veteran clearly having a fine old time getting his teeth into a particularly meaty role that very much plays to his strengths – and they’re brilliantly bolstered by an excellent supporting cast – Get Rich Or Die Tryin’s Tory Kittles easily matches them in his equally weighty scenes as Henry Johns, a newly-released ex-con also out to improve his family’s situation with a major score, while Kretschmann is at his most chilling as the brutal killer who executes his plans with cold-blooded precision, and there are wonderful scene-stealing offerings from Jennifer Carpenter, Udo Kier, Don Johnson (three more Zahler regulars, each featured with Vaughn on BOCB99), Michael Jai White, Laurie Holden and newcomer Miles Truitt.  This is a proper meaty film, dark, intense, gritty and unflinching in its portrayal of honest, unglamorous violence and its messy aftermath, but fans of grown-up filmmaking will find PLENTY to enjoy here, Zahler crafting a crime epic comparable to the heady best of Scorsese and Tarantino.  Another sure-fire winner from one of the best new filmmakers around.

21.  FAST COLOR – intriguingly, the most INTERESTING superhero movie of the year was NOT a major franchise property, or even a comic book adapted to the screen at all, but a wholly original indie which snuck in very much under the radar on its release but is surely destined for cult greatness in the future, not least due to some much-deserved critical acclaim.  Set in an unspecified future where it hasn’t rained for years, a homeless vagabond named Ruth (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is making her aimless way across a desolate American Midwest, tormented by violent seizures which cause strange localised earthquakes, and hunted by Bill (Argo’s Christopher Denham), a rogue scientist who wants to capture her so he can study her abilities.  Ultimately she’s left with no other recourse than to run home, sheltering with her mother Bo (Middle of Nowhere and Orange is the New Black’s Lorraine Toussaint), and her young daughter Lila (The Passage’s Saniyya Sidney), both of whom also have weird and wondrous powers of their own.  As the estranged family reconnect, Ruth finally learns to control her powers as she’s forced to confront her own troubled past, but as Bill closes in it looks like their idyll might be short-lived … this might only be the second feature of writer-director Julie Hart (who cut her teeth penning well-regarded indie western The Keeping Room before making her own debut helming South By Southwest Film Festival hit Miss Stevens), but it’s a blinding statement of intent for the future, a deceptively understated thing of beauty that eschews classic superhero cinema conventions of big spectacle and rousing action in favour of a quiet, introspective character-driven story where the unveiling and exploration of Ruth and her kin’s abilities are secondary to the examination of how their familial dynamics work (or often DON’T), while Hart and cinematographer Michael Fimognari (probably best known for his frequent work for Mike Flanagan) bring a ruined but bleakly beautiful future to life through inventively understated production design and sweeping, dramatic vistas largely devoid of visual effects.  Subtlety is the watchword, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t fireworks here, it’s just that they’re generally performance-based – awards-darling Mbatha-Raw (Belle) gives a raw, heartfelt performance, painting Ruth in vivid shades of grey, while Toussaint is restrained but powerfully memorable and Sidney builds on her already memorable work to deliver what might be her best turn to date, and there are strong supporting turns from Denham (who makes his nominal villain surprisingly sympathetic) and Hollywood great David Strathairn as gentle small town sheriff Ellis. Leisurely paced and understated it may be, but this is still an incendiary piece of work, sure to become a breakout sleeper hit for a filmmaking talent from whom I expect GREAT THINGS in the future, and since the story’s been picked up for expansion into a TV series with Hart in charge that looks like a no-brainer.  And it most assuredly IS a bona fide superhero movie, despite appearances to the contrary …

[kimabutch]

JLCR: instrumental track edition

Just hit another milestone on the JLCR playlist (1250 songs!) so I’m doing another mini-playlist, this time focussing on instrumental songs for locations and specific scenes. 

I’ve organized the playlist by campaign and then by order within the campaign. Because Critical Role gives us stunning scenes every single episode, I’ve only been able to include a fraction of my favourites, usually chosen because I had a specific song in mind. I’ve also quoted parts of Matt’s descriptions, so that this is also an ode to his beautiful narration.

This playlist has got a little bit of everything: folk/trad, lo-fi beats, post-rock, soundtrack, and classical. I hope you enjoy!

Campaign 1

Whitestone, Briarwood Arc

The Night King, Ramin Djawadi (from Game of Thrones, Season 8)

“As you get close enough to start scanning over details, you can see that a lot of the buildings appear to be closed or empty. There are people working in the fields. As you make your way to the centre of the town, there is a town square. There is a tree there, a very large, old tree that is twisted, with all these various gnarled branches that reach out. You recall Desmond mentioning something called the Sun Tree that is the centrepiece of this area. And you get a view enough of the tree to see that there are eight humanoid bodies of varying ages swinging from it.” (e28)

Bolts of lightning are coming down from the storm in the distance, too, as the thunderstorm itself is reaching more of a fervoured pace, the rain itself getting harder and harder on you guys. So, with that, you can see, looking over your shoulder on the other side of this wall another bit of skeletal horde is starting to come down one of the nearby intersections. (e32)

Okay, okay, I know this is a little too on-point: this song was literally written about fighting an undead army in and around a castle. But when I listen to this song and close my eyes, I can imagine a dozen scenes from the Briarwood arc, played out perfectly in my head. And Ramin Djawadi is just a fantastic composer.

The Flute Duels in The Diamond Nest

The Ballroom Set, Jean-Michel Veillon

“So you pull out your flute and other gnomish girl with her flute as well gives you a look, and you guys start weaving together this flute duel, almost like Flight of the Bumblebees but two conflicting sides. As you guys begin to build this perpetual symphony of — it’s almost jazz flute almost in this improvisational feel to it. The drums build, you can see Dr. Dranzel is tapping his foot to it and he gets this really fast fiddle sound out of a classic violin, the whole room begins to gather around and cheer. [...] 

Eyes locked, tapping your feet heavily against the actual wood to the table. The rhythmic pounding of your feet and the drums — because the entire room is now also slamming their tables in with it as the music builds and builds until eventually you both take one deep breath and go for that same sustained note a second time. She’s challenging you at the game she lost last time, and the two of you both swell into this cacophonous spray of music that hits this one final note.” (e37)

As a flute player of 14+ years with a strong interest in traditional music, I can fairly confidently say that a flute duel would be unlikely to end on a very long note, because flutes sound like shit when you start to lose air, which is usually after only a few seconds — flutes are the least air-efficient of all wind instruments, unless you can circular breathe, in which case it’s a moot point. 

That being said, I love this scene, and I’ve chosen a song by one of my favourite trad flutists for it, Jean-Michel Veillon. He’s a master of Breton and Irish flute, both of which contain improvisational elements that you can hear in this mind-numbingly fast piece. While it has none of Dr Dranzel’s fiddle in it, there’s only one flute, and it doesn’t end on a particularly long note, it’s definitely a crowd-pleaser that would both provide a distraction for a stealthing party and challenge a long-lost daughter to keep up. 

Pyrah, Destroyed

Study for Player Piano (II), Ólafur Arnalds

“Your vision crests the mountain and steps into the valley of broken, blackened shale to the ever-burning forest. As you come upon it, you recall where the Fire Ashari village was and where you were greeted before and given your trials. Where there is now nothing but sundered, broken wood, tents, destroyed bodies burned and charred and curled up in horrible ever-gasping pain. 

The forest itself is flattened from the inside out, like a blast from the centre of it just exploded outward, the trees all bent and snapped at the base, and in the centre, where there once was that small pool of molten lava that you created the portal through and stepped into the elemental plane, there is a large, ominous, flickering gash between the planes that is roughly 30 to 40 feet in width and height that is pulsing as fire and magma pours out of it. You can see wandering imps and elementals and various entities slowly peeking out and escaping and wandering throughout the mountain tops. From what you can see, there are no signs of any survivors.” (e40)

The entire Chroma Conclave attack is emotionally harrowing but Matt’s description of (and Marisha’s reaction to) Pyrah’s destruction just kills me. This piece gives off such a horrified, mournful mood to it, and the glittering piano throughout makes me think of falling ashes. 

Glintshore Island

Hydrological Story, Kishi Bashi (from the Fourth Phase)

“As you begin to grow closer to the island, you see, as it begins to come more into form, there is a singular mountain peak that’s shifted mostly to the western side. It’s not a super peak. It’s a gradual point. You can see a little bit of a brush-like detail of the jungle that you had heard mentioned before. He begins to bring you up towards the southern shore of the island. At this point of perspective, the sunlight that’s hitting the island is causing a glittery shift of thousands of points of light across the beach shoreline, deep into where the blackened jungle tree line is. It’s beautiful. It’s a very strange and awe-inspiring sight, to be such a small little forgotten part of the land and to look so pretty from this distance.

The closer you get, the beauty begins to fade as you see the black beaches. You can see the landscape is barren and broken, aside from the ashen grey and black jungle plants and trees that have been left there, dead, for an extended period of time. The mountain itself, the rock itself going from black to a ruddy red and brown colour. The sands themselves and the glass surface across the eastern shore that tends to reach out, almost like a mouth of a creature, is rough and varied in topography” (e67).

Glintshore has fascinated me from the moment I heard its description — what a setting for one of the most intense fights of all of campaign 1, and the arguable emotional climax of Percy’s character arc. I think this piece perfectly captures a sense of beauty, strangeness, menace, and anticipation. 

The Birth Heart

Aspen Trees, Danny Norbury

“As you enter the Birth Heart, it’s an archway of branches and trees that knit into each other and wrap around as you step in. You can see what looks like a heavy cluster of forest is really just an outside row of trees that are all intertwined. The inside is open with the occasional stalk of tree that blossoms up into the higher portion. [...] 

This is the centre of the Birth Heart. And within there are a number of lanterns that are hung from the branches all throughout that all have their own yellowish fairy glow within each point. They’re all through the inside at different levels. It’s just hundreds and hundreds of these yellow glowing lights that are hooked up into the boughs ahead. There are a number of people walking off the path, just through the soft mulch wood and dying pine soft floor of the canopy, all wearing similar robes of greens and yellows, golds and whites” (e84).

The description of the Birth Heart is among my favourites in all of Critical Role; if I had to live anywhere in Exandria, it would for sure be the Birth Heart (despite Ashley’s misgivings about what Senokir’s wife’s ashes might be doing to the place...) This song, for me, evokes the feeling of being surrounded by nature and totally at peace. 

Ioun’s Test

Harbinger, Mike Oldfield

“Clutching the Ioun stone, as you sing this song, the stone glows ever so faintly in your hand and you glance up and you can see about ten of the various spectral librarians that are wandering have stopped and they’re all looking at you. Seemingly temporarily distracted or entranced by the song. [...] As you continue to sing, with each beat, each name that’s mentioned that deals with the Calamity and the Chained Oblivion, you watch as their pace seems to quicken a bit, and then as the singing slows they begin to slow down again. [...] 

They continue to push at a brisk pace and you watch as other of the spectral librarians begin to gather into this group and is now a cluster of about 25 of them that are snaking around these bookcases and traveling at a pretty fair pace. Which once was walking pace, and then went to a jogging pace, they’re now darting through. And they’re leading you quickly away from the centre of the library where everyone else seems to be clustered. So the two of you are following and swooshing behind them, you’re going over and around bookcases. Some of the bookcases you see have giant holes in the centre and you can dart through and dive past. The speed is increasing to the point where the wind is starting to kick up in your hair and you’re amazed at the speed of these librarians and the fact that they’re being driven by your very song, and also the fact that you have no idea how far away the rest of your friends are in this library, and this library seems to just go on and on and on” (e105).

The imagery of Scanlan conducting the spectres with Mythcarver and his singing, desperately holding onto Vex as she maneuvers her way perfectly through eternal bookshelves — it’s just too much. I love it. This song feels celestial and ethereal, appropriate to Ioun’s realm, but conveys the excitement, urgency, and movement of the scene — with a large orchestral sound that surrounds you.

Whitestone’s Epilogue

Coronation March, Edward Elgar (performed by George Hurst & the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra)

Cassandra, as a note by the way. She’s had a few pretty difficult brushes with death and the experiences definitely left a mark on her. Within the year following the battle with Vecna, she begins to remind you of yourself at a very dark time. Recognizing that, you come to her and help pull her from a dangerous edge of lashing out at the place she’s worked so hard to build. You help her realize that this guilt she’s been holding as being a tool of manipulation, the times that she has been is not her fault, and used against the ones she loves. In that determination to no longer be a tool for others to use, she asks Vex to teach her and train her. To not just be the lady beacon of Whitestone, but also join in as one of its protectors” (e115).

This is among my favourite pieces of classical music ever. The opening theme — melancholic but stately — reminds me particularly of Cassandra. No matter how much time passes, the halls of Whitestone will always bring some memories of the years she was a captive in her own home. However, there is something of hope in it, too, and the transition into a major theme reminds me in particular of Vex and Percy’s devotion to their city, and of the healing that Cassandra and Percy might find together. Also big fancy balls. 

Campaign 2

The Evening Nip

Passage, linanthem 

“Eventually, you hear some voices and some laughter, and a clink of glasses. As you curve down, the light gets brighter from around the corner, until suddenly you look into a stone-set subterranean tavern. From floor to ceiling, it’s about 20 feet tall. You can see there are two balconies that overlook it from the left side, and one that’s barely visible around the corner, as the room opens up to the right of you.” (e13)

You can see in the far back right corner of the chamber there is a long, dark mahogany well-carved table. [...] Sitting feet crossed up on the table in a nice, long deep-blue coat, leather-gloved hands, light teal skin, jet-black hair that’s long, just past the shoulders, a widow’s peak in the centre, a bit of a dark goatee, male figure standing there, hands entwined and crossed, looking at you from across the way with a curious grin” (e14).

Shouldn’t the Evening Nip be playing medieval tavern music? Probably, but I think sleazy, jazzy beats fit the Gentleman perfectly. You can almost hear his skin dripping.

The Underground Laboratory

I Don’t Think About You Anymore But, I Don’t Think About You Anyless, Hungry Ghosts

“Each couple of splashing sounds that hit as the oars hit the water and the occasional crack of the water against the brook or a rock in the centre, you being to maneuver your way through this dark tunnel with just the low light that you’ve been applying. It gets colder and colder the further down the tunnel you go and while it is moist, you begin to see your breath just in general this low in the ground. [...]

The torchlight extends into the chamber, and you can see a little more now. The two side chambers are almost pill-shaped. They’re rounded at each side, and they’re enclosed, but open into the center chamber. At each of these rounded edges, as you step inside and glance to the right and left, you can see cage-like contraptions: iron domes that are very tight-knit, dark iron rusted metal. They’re on the edges of each side. You see load-bearing pillars in the center of the chamber to the right and left, and cold braziers behind those against the walls: little domed pieces of stone that once contained flame for light. Across the way you can see two tables with chairs, a bookcase” (e15).

This is the song that’s running through my head anytime the Mighty Nein are going to a remotely spooky place. And can’t you imagine some drips and metal bar squeaks superimposed over this track to make it the perfect spooky-underground-lab track?

The Blooming Grove 

Owl Song, Cosmo Sheldrake

“There is something unnatural, or at least magical, that maintains this little pocket of untouched paradise. There you can see small pools, bits of bog where the soft green and browns of compost fall into green, thick, algae-covered bits of water. You can see dozens and dozens of stone tablets, about a foot to two feet high, with bits of script across them, too far to see, that have partially fallen or leaning. [...] 

As the light passes between the small breaks in the tree canopies, the green comes to light with colour, numerous types of colour. A rainbow of flowers, of pigments you’ve never really seen before, begin to emerge as the light hits it. Nearly every inch of these gravesites contain a smattering scatter of rainbow colors across petal and stame.” (e28).

I have so much love in my heart for the Blooming Grove, and Caduceus’s introduction — it’s my favourite example of the trope that @night-filled-mountain so beautifully described once: "The tension breaks and everyone is so incredibly tender.” Their arrival, through thorns, to a paradise and a new ally, gave me a feeling of peace and relief that I’ve rarely felt in fiction. I think this song just really gets to the heart of the Blooming Grove: peaceful, though strange, and surrounded by mysterious circumstances.

The beaches of Nicodranus

another perspective, Idealism

“Looking past the afternoon sun at this vantage point especially, you can see it dancing across the distant horizon shore like hundreds of little glistening flecks of glass. The shore’s sound itself is very soothing as you approach and pull up your pants and take off your boots to begin to step into the soft sand. [...] 

As you guys gather your things, dusk has set in, and now the sky shifts from light blue to a deep blue and purple on the eastern side as the oranges, reds, yellows, and pinks begin to overtake the western side of the skyline” (e33).

“As you gather in the mid-afternoon here in Nicodranas, you walk your way towards the ocean side of the port, finding the lengths of the city that lead to the familiar beaches where you once had yourself a stroll, a soak and a battle with a crab. [...] Beautiful open sky. The warm sun hitting you up through your clothes. You can see now Yeza and Luke, both, marvelling at the sight before Luke just goes running off into the water” (e71).

Every time the Mighty Nein come to Nicodranas, I know we’re in for a treat with Matt’s descriptions. Their beach day marked a peaceful moment before the pirate arc, while their return before this current arc allowed them to breathe after Yasha... leaving, and for Nott to have some much-needed beach conversations. This peaceful lo-fi track evokes that same sense of calm and nostalgia that I get from those episodes, and in particular makes me think of, perhaps, a quiet moment between Nott and Yeza, watching a Nicodranas sunset. 

Darktow

Under Ceilidh Pressure, Coìg

“This island, unlike the jungle islands that you’ve come across and a vast majority of the Swavain Islands here off the Menagerie Coast, is mostly rock and cliff. In fact, from what you can see, most of this island from this perspective is jagged cliff face and probably a few hundred feet up is where the island’s even surface even begins. At the base around this cliff face you can see a scattered web of a shipyard, just tangled docks that maneuver around containing dozens and dozens of ships. Across that you see numerous torches that mark various intersections where they all meet, and built into the base of this cliff face, you see a number of buildings and windows, all slowly being lit as the night grows darker and darker. This mass of natural-looking, hive-like pirate city there stands before you. Welcome to Darktow” (e41).

You guys walk out into the cold night air. The heavy mist has fallen across Darktow and you can barely see beyond the outskirts of the city where the ocean begins. You can still hear the waters coming in against the rocks on the outside of the island, but you cannot actually see where the water connects. Beyond that, you can see the outline of the ship masts that are set at the end of the shipyard that are vanishing into the mist that surround you” (e42).

Wow, Darktow sure was cool — wouldn’t it have been nice if they’d stayed there for more than 24 hours? Either way, though, this Cape Breton folk band’s song gives me strong pirate-town-at-night vibes, and the part where it picks up in the middle reminds me especially of their chaotic heist on the boat.

Felderwin

Elégie in C Minor, Gabriel Fauré (performed by Jacqueline du Pré)

“As you come upon the outside of Felderwin, which is built not too far from the Eistus River, you can already see there are a number of buildings burned and blackened on the opposite end of the fields. The fields are on the northern side of the city. On the southeastern side, there's a section of the town that appears to have burned or burnt down to varying degrees” (e48). 

“You make your way past the outskirts and you can see the river itself cruising right along. It would be a beautiful landscape if there wasn't this intensity of emotion and the distant haze of long-greyed smoke that still hangs over the vicinity of the partially burned farmlands. Nevertheless, Nott leads you over towards one of the shaded banks under a few trees and you come to a stop” (e49).

An elegy seemed like a good choice for Nott’s return to Felderwin, both for her mourning her (presumed dead) husband and for her recounting the details of her death. The happy, nostalgic middle theme makes me think of Nott’s happier memories in Felderwin, and in particular her description of coming to the river with Yeza. And Jacqueline du Pre’s gorgeous, evocative cello playing makes my heart hurt. 

Rosohna

La Cathédrale engloutie, Claude Debussy (performed by Martin Jones)

“As he turns, you can now see before you, throughout the vicinity, this beautiful courtyard of subtle grey and green bushes and trees. You see that you're on a hill. The centre of the city seems to be on some sort of hilltop and looking down, you can see the perimeter wall, made of a dull grey with a purplish-tint type stone and across the crest of it, you see these green lanterns that alight with this soft, green glow. 

Beyond that, beyond the barricades, your vision stretches out to see the entirety, it seems, of Rosohna, this incredible, vast metropolis, alit with thousands of the same little, green lantern glows. You see stone and metal and dark clay making up all the structures in various sizes and shapes, some of which have been repurposed ruins of old that have been built upon and refurbished, some of which, at least closer to the centre, appear to be extensions of an elvish, domicile design that is familiar yet unfamiliar, in some ways slender and jagged, but beautiful and sleek. Then, beyond that, you can see extending wards of the city that tend to be a little more patchwork and scattered. You can see distant bonfires that are lit in some of the streets, giving distinct orange glows that break up the rest of the green, sparkling lights that make up the entirety of your vision. It's beautiful.” (e57)

Matt’s description of Rosohna took my breath away: such a monumental city in a place that the characters had been told was barely “civilized.” This piano prelude captures, for me, the idea of walking up that hill and gradually, this enormous, dark, glittering, beautiful city sprawling before you. Musically, this song is built in parts on unusual scales, so that it gives me the sense of “familiar yet unfamiliar.”

And that’s a wrap! Thanks so much for reading and listening!

[yehet-me-up]

The Way You Once Tasted

Pairing: lay/yixing x reader

Genre: mechanic/getaway driver Yixing (from the exo x Italian Job fic I’ll never get around to writing but can’t stop thinking about), angst, fluff

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1,893

Request: If requests are still open... May I please request EXO’s Lay for lyric prompt 22 or quote prompt 26 and angsty? Thank you and have a wonderful day/night! Thank you for requesting love! I hope you like it <3

A/N: tagging @yixingminseokjongdae​ and @thegreatxingmibeyond because hello loves, please suffer with me thanks <3  😂 😂 😂

He watches you across his dashboard, hand loose on the wheel. He watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and slide a stack of folders into your bag. He watches you wave to your co-worker and thinks of the past, of how the two of you have wound up here. 

How over the course of the last few years he’s gone from a mechanic to a street racer to a wanted criminal about to be part of the deadliest heist anyone could imagine. 

How you’ve gone from a graduate student in social work to a detective specializing in white collar crime. 

But here you both are, as different as two people can be who once loved each other with enough passion to raze the earth.  

Once, he was younger, more innocent, less rough around the edges. Once, he let people in. 

The sweltering Los Angeles heat eats away at reality. Perspiration drips down his forehead, stinging his eyes. With a laugh of surrender he wipes at the sweat and continues working away on the engine of the Pontiac GTO in front of him.

He hums to himself, blissfully lost in his own world. 

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ a voice calls from the front of the store. 

He sighs and sets down his tools. Yixing stands and grabs a towel to wipe off his face and hands. 

‘Back here!’ he calls out, strolling out through the roll-up door to see who on earth could possibly need help on a Saturday night.

The sight of you, looking stunning and polished even in the scorching heat, makes him stop. You brighten when you see him, taking off your sunglasses and smiling at him; a daydream in a soft blue dress that makes him swallow and run a hand through his undoubtedly messy hair. 

‘Oh, thank God,’ you start, sweet voice washing over him like Spring rain. ‘My car broke down a few blocks from here and my stupid phone is dead and I just -’ you sigh and laugh to yourself. ‘It’s been a hell of a day and I’m so happy to find you.’

He can’t fight the lopsided grin. ‘Well, now that you’ve found me darlin’, what do you plan to do with me?’ 

Your cheeks tint pink and you huff at him, crossing your arms. ‘If you’re going to be an ass, I’ll find somewhere else.’ You hitch your purse higher up your shoulder and turn to leave. 

The setting sun turns the oil stains on the concrete technicolor and he stifles a laugh, wondering if it’s magic or disaster that you’re bringing into his life. If you’re the kind of trouble he should stay far away from or if you’re the kind he can’t help but chase. 

‘Wait,’ he says and walks over. You turn back to regard him cautiously, raising a brow. ‘I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I was only kidding. It’s hotter than hell in there and I seem to have lost my manners.’

You purse your lips at him. ‘Did you happen to find them in the last two seconds?’

He laughs out loud at this. ‘You know, I believe I did. My name’s Yixing and I’d be more than happy to help you. Would you mind telling me what happened?’

For a long moment you stare him down, considering. He’s been judged, sized up, dozens of times in his life, but never has he felt so exposed. 

It should drive him mad the way you seem to be stripping him down to his essence before his very eyes, but it doesn’t. He likes the way you watch him, and he holds his arms out in surrender, meeting your gaze with his own. 

‘Do I pass inspection?’ he teases, voice lower than a moment ago.

‘For now. Come on, the car is this way,’ you say and start walking. 

He doesn’t miss the satisfied smile on your lips as you turn away. He can feel in his bones the fabric of his life changing at your arrival. 

His hand grasps the wheel tighter until his knuckles turn white. Of course, as fate would have it, you’d be assigned to this case. He wonders if you even know he’s a part of Junmyeon’s heist yet. 

If you felt anything when you heard his name again. Yours was a punch in the gut when Baekhyun told him that the cops were onto them. 

It should drive him insane, to not know how you got here. What happened in the past five years to bring you to this point? He’s sure the story is just as strange and unexpected as the one that brought him here. 

You push out the front door and step onto the sidewalk, deeply inhaling the hot air. 

On days like these he wonders if you still feel him all over your skin the way he feels you on his as the temperatures climb. 

As you slide behind the wheel of your car, a boring white Toyota Corolla, he groans. 

Do you remember how you used to be? 

Wild and carefree beside him, cruising down the back roads late at night. Shoes off, feet tucked up underneath you. Chin resting on your folded hands on the rolled-down window, looking up and watching the stars with a smile on your face that makes him want to do something wildly impulsive, like ask you to marry him.

The way you shatter beneath him in the backseat of his old lime green Camaro, somewhere out in the desert between LA and Vegas. Radiant, powerful, your head thrown back and your nails clawing at his shoulders. Vulnerable and raw and open when you pull his forehead down to yours so you can watch him find his own climax. 

Did you know it then? He wonders to himself as he starts the car and follows after you. Did you know that it wouldn’t last? Or were you just as naive and hopeful and blinded by love as he was in those early days?

He aches inside to know you again. To be who he was when you were together.

 At a red light you lean your arm out the window, fingers tapping. You always had more energy than you knew what to do with, he smirks to himself. 

‘Come on, please? We’ll be back in no time,’ you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He chuckles. ‘Absolutely not. Just because we can drive all the way to Cabo in a day, doesn’t mean we should. Don’t you have class on Monday?’ 

You come around to the front of him, kissing the underside of his jaw and making him melt. ‘Please, baby. Let’s chase the sun. You work so hard. I’m so burned out after midterms. Let’s live a little. One night on the beach with you would make the rest of the quarter so much easier to cope with.’

He groans. ‘Dammit, you know I can’t resist those puppy dog eyes,’ he laughs. ‘Fine let’s do it.’ 

With a squeal you leap into his arms, teasing the hair at the back of his neck with your lithe fingers. He staggers for a moment, reaching for you and grabbing your ass in his hands. 

It should unnerve him, the way that nothing else in life matters when you’re together. But he ran out of desire to care about anything other than you the first time he kissed you - covered in grease and dirt that stained your pretty blue dress, against your broken down car on the side of the road. 

The light changes and he almost lets you get away. It would be easy, he thinks. Finish this job, take the insane amount of money that will make up his share, and leave. Hit the road. Chase the sun. 

Not stop until he forgets the way you used to linger in his mouth after he kissed you. The endless nights and mornings and hours in between with your lips on his, your tongue in his mouth, the taste of you surrounding him.

But he knows, deep inside him, that there’s more to the story of you and him. Chapters he can’t know yet, and he wants to rip the rest of the book out in-between to skip to the ending. 

What will become of him, you, once this is all over?

The lights are too bright to think in the shop and he runs a tired hand over his eyes. 

He’d rather be at home with you, settled between his legs while you study or write papers. Playing with your hair and dropping kisses to your shoulders and neck. Hearing the sighs and soft moans that only he can elicit from you. 

But instead he’s stuck here, working on a rich man’s car that he most certainly won’t appreciate properly. Just as he bends down to resume working on the carburetor the sound of footsteps distracts him. 

A breeze comes in through the roll-up and his skin prickles. ‘Baby is that you?’ he asks.

‘Close your eyes,’ you say, peeking around the corner, amusement in your voice.

He fights a laugh and raises his eyes to the ceiling before closing them. ‘Alright they’re closed.’ How he ever could have thought you were a well-behaved woman the first day he met you, he’ll never know. He’d do anything for you, his heart, his muse, his minx.

The sound of your footsteps get closer and he can sense you standing in front of him. Drawing out the moment. 

He can almost feel the satisfied smile on your lips as his breathing slows, deepens, waiting. You reach for him, running your hands lightly along his chest, relaxing him with your presence and your touch.

Your hands trace his collar bone, stroke along the column of his neck, rub his temples. He sighs and leans into you, unable to stop his hands from reaching for your hips. 

Once he thought he was whole on his own, capable of being independent. 

But now that he’s met you he knows he’s not whole without you, the other half of his heart. 

When he finally, finally, feels the soft press of your lips against him, the heat of your body against his, the moment stretches out for an eternity. 

He groans into your mouth and lifts a hand to cup your chin, tilting your head back so he can fuse his lips to yours more fully. 

You sigh and greedily tug at his hair, pulling him closer. He backs up until he rests against the car, feeling the length of your waist and hips with his palm; savoring your taste against his mouth. 

A moment later you pull back. He whines, making you laugh softly. When he opens his eyes you’re looking up at him like he is every good thing you could ever want. 

‘What was that for?’ he asks, heart in his throat, as he strokes his hands possessively through your hair.

‘I just missed you, that’s all,’ you answer, eyes as bright as stars. 

No, he thinks to himself with a reckless enthusiasm. This isn’t over yet. 

He changes lanes so he can see you, your hair streaming behind you from the wind, and he lets the rumble of his heart and the car’s engine push him forward. To whatever ending.