#is it binding? goodness yes! [closed starter]

[niightravcns]

@magiclessxprefect - plotted starter.

Dorian has been working at Mostro Lounge ever since its opening. He's come across all sort of situations, for better or for worse. At this point, he'd like to think that very little can surprise him.

However, this might come close...

"Apologies, I think I must've misheard you - are you actually asking to work here on your own free will?"

He'd know for sure if the magicless human, of all people, had signed a contract with Azul, but no, no trace of her name in the endless list of people in debt with Dorian's stepbrother.

He's honestly surprised that hasn't happened yet, you'd think someone with no magic would need all the 'help' to survive in a school brimming with powerful magicians-to-be.

[hungarianmudkip69]

*sets out a tea service* So about your CG necromancer that you'd like to play, but the campaigns keep falling through before you can play them?

SO. I once had this idea. What if I made a chaotic good necromancer, whose culture has positive associations with necromancy. And I ended up making Elrena. (Yes, I took the name from Kingdom Hearts, but just because I liked it, she's not based off the KH character.)

What I ended up coming up with, is that she's from a small village in a very inhospitable area, prone to freezing cold and fierce storms. It would be completely inhospitable if not for their magic, an unusual branch of necromancy more benign than evil. Her people believe that when one of them dies, their soul cannot rest without knowing their body has been raised to continue protecting their loved ones, and raise the bodies of their dead to do necessary tasks when it is too dangerous for the living to step outside.

They worship Kelemvor, god of death, who cares for the souls of their protectors; Mystra, goddess of magic, who gave them the magic that protects them; and Ilmater, god of endurance and perseverance, who reminds them that they must help each other.

Not all members of the village are necromancers, but Elrena, a protector aasimar, showed the signs of becoming a necromancer very young, and became especially close with her fellow necromancers. Traditionally, when a young necromancer reaches the age of twenty, she goes out on a journey to experience the world, help others, and hone her power in ways she cannot at home.

In all campaigns, she has just left on this journey, and doesn't have any idea how the wider world views necromancy. She believes very firmly in her people's beliefs, and does not realize that they aren't universal and that most people have never heard of her more benign branch of necromancy. She carries a small bag containing bones from a few ancient community members whose bodies no longer can physically serve the village, but continue to protect it by guiding the newest generation.

In the last campaign she was going to be in, which unfortunately fell through, the DM actually was modifying a class from the Valda's Spire of Secrets Kickstarter for me, the Necromancer. It used to be on 5e.tools, but looks like it's not anymore? And unfortunately, I don't remember much of what it was like. But here's an example of an ability he made for me:

Starter Feat: Soothing Necromancy: Your necromantic magic differs from the typical soul binding magics of the weave, into a more soothing melody of temporary transition. Some of the spirits and souls of the departed wish to aid you due to your kind nature. Spirits linger around your person, and sometimes whisper secrets to you or your allies. You learn the message cantrip if you don't already know it, and require no components to cast it. When you cast the spell, the messages are delivered by one of your whispering spirits rather than you or the target's voice. Additionally you learn Protection from Good and Evil spell. You can cast the spells without expending a spell slot. Once you cast the spells in this way, you can't cast that spell in this way again until you finish a long rest. However, some spirits are intentionally malicious even after their death, and may alert enemies to your presence. You take minus d4 to stealth checks. Your spellcasting ability for this spell is Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma (your choice when you gain this Starter Gift).

I think she's really neat and I put a lot into building her. But unfortunately I've never been able to use her for more than a few sessions. The DM for the game I originally made her for tried to do this thing where actually necromancy isn't what she thought and it tortures the souls that I was really uncomfortable with a few sessions in, and then the game fell apart when someone moved away and the pandemic started a bit after... The DM for the other game was so into the concept and helping work with me on it, I really wish that game had kept going. It just never had a second session due to scheduling conflicts.

[inu-jiru]

How I'd Write "Outcast of Redwall" - The Name, The Prologue and Book One

So as a Redwall fan, I've seen my fair share of complaints about Outcast of Redwall and why it's the black sheep of the franchise, and while I haven't read the book itself, from what I've heard in podcasts and read on Redwall blogs, I can agree that it's got issues. It's a shame because I believe there was potential in it, and Taggerung was a much better representation of the idea Brian Jacques was trying to tell. I know people have their own ideas of how this book could've been better (and I'm a good 20 years late to the conversation), but I couldn't help but think of my own version since I've been getting back into the series (I've been writing a fanfiction as well that I should probably post here lol). This is going to be long so I'll split this up into separate posts:

THE NAME

For starters, I agree with the common criticism that "Outcast of Redwall" kinda fails as a name when the Outcast in question isn't even born until the 2nd act, if I'm remembering correctly. For the plot I came up with, I figured "The Hunted Ones" would be appropriate, referring to the main characters, Sunflash and Bluefen (yes, she's got a much bigger role this time around), as well as those close to them, and how they're under the constant threat of Swartt and his influence.

THE PROLOGUE

The prologue is a telling of Sunstripe's capture. This is based on the assumption that Sunstripe was about Mattimeo's age (so early pre-teen, if the animated series is anything to go by), when he ran off to fight Verdauga. The prologue starts many days after Sunstripe is defeated by Verdauga. Sunstripe has since wandered far into the northeastern section of Mossflower Country, injured and too ashamed to return to his mother and Brockhall. Wishing to have simply died by Verdauga's paws, Sunstripe leans near a tree and decides to waste away, believing it to be what he deserves for failing to avenge his father. He falls unconscious just as vermin emerge from the woods. These vermin are followers of Wurgg Snarefang (formerly Wurgg the Spinecracker in canon; he is a ferret and Bowfleg's father in this reimagining, the surname comes from Bowfleg's canon insignia), whose camp is settled in the area. Binding Sunstripe, Wurgg's beasts bring their prize to the ferret, who claims Sunstripe as a pet. The prologue ends here.

BOOK ONE - THE ALLIANCE

Book One would mainly follow the growing companionship of Sunstripe and Bluefen, as well and their eventual escape to Redwall.

It begins seasons after the prologue. Sunstripe is now an adult (late-20s, early 30s-ish, in human years). He's lived in captivity for seasons, being beaten and mocked by the horde constantly. A late middle-aged Bowfleg Snarefang now rules in his late father's place, and has gifted the family "pet" to his daughter, Bluefen (who would be close to 18 or 19 in human years). Bowfleg is not a very good father and lives off his father's infamy, growing fat and lazy as a result. He's abusive to his daughter, ordering around like a housewife and ignoring her complaints when he tells her to seek out a good, strong and loyal ferret in the horde to serve as his son-in-law and carry on the Snarefang bloodline. Frustrated and feeling like a prisoner in her own right, Bluefen regularly takes out her anger on Sunstripe, calling him "Scumtripe" as an insult.

Sunstripe, meanwhile, regularly has dreams of Mossflower, his parents, Boar the Fighter, and the mountain of Salamadastron. He regularly feels the pull to escape, to see his mother again and to visit the mountain, but is unable to shake off his guilt. He is also housed in a deep pit lined with smooth stone, making climbing out impossible without outside assistance.

At the same time, an outsider named Swartt Sixclaw arrives from farther north with his small band, "eager" to join Bowfleg's ranks. Bluefen doesn't trust Swartt for a second, but Nightshade, Swartt's Seer, is able to sway Bowfleg's mind with "omens" promising a great future should Bowfleg accept Swartt. Bowfleg, blinded by these false promises, offers his daughter to Swartt as a token of their alliance, much to Bluefen's dismay. Swartt agrees, purely to keep on Bowfleg's good side.

A feast is arranged; Sunstripe is taken out of his prison an made to do tricks. Swartt is allowed to torture him (which he enjoys a bit too much). Bluefen can't bring herself to enjoy any of it and takes off, contemplating if she should simply flee to begin life elsewhere. After the feast, she goes to Sunstripe's prison to try and cheer herself up with her usual bullying, but breaks down due to the anger at her father and the fear of her new husband. Seeing this and being reminded of his mother's pain after Barkstripe's death, Sunstripe shows compassion to his would-be tormentor and consoles her. Bluefen is uncertain of why a beast she mistreated would be kind to her, but does admit that she's being married off to Swartt. Sunstripe can tell it upsets her greatly. They strike up a conversation and the seeds of a bond are planted. While this happens, Swartt takes advantage of a drunken Bowfleg and poisons him with wine, becoming the sole ruler of the Snarefang horde.

The following seasons are rough for Bluefen as she suffers her new husband's cruelty, and his treatment of Sunstripe leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Swartt has claimed Sunstripe as his steed and regularly brings him out of his pit to ride him around camp. Swartt also schemes to move further south, having heard on the wind that the Thousand Eye Army is long gone and Mossflower sits free for its next ruler. The march begins, and a pregnant Bluefen desires more and more to escape and live elsewhere. Her conversations with Sunstripe continue, and they bond further over how miserable they are. Sunstripe soon decides that, even if his guilt still lingers, he has to help Bluefen, whom he pities despite her past mistreatment of him. Desperate, Bluefen agrees, and they plan their escape.

As Bluefen assists Sunstripe in escaping his prison, she's spotted by Swartt's followers, and they both flee for their lives into the woods. Swartt, taking the lead, attempts to kill Sunstripe, but with some quick thinking, Sunstripe crushes Swartt's arm with a makeshift club. The pair disappear into the woods, and their journey begins. Things are rough, given the winter climate, and both have little experience surviving in the woods, Bluefen especially. They bicker a few times, but Bluefen dares not leave Sunstripe's side, knowing his usefulness in a fight. Things take a turn when Bluefen goes into labor, and Sunflash takes her to a cave which is inhabited by the Lingl-Dubbo families. Kind beasts, the families agree to look after Bluefen and provide both travelers with good food. A healthy baby ferret is born that night. Bluefen names him Veil, due to his mask marking reminding her of the veil she wears. She plans to never tell him of his father or of the Snarefang Horde.

Skarlath, a friend of the families and fancier of cheeses, visits the cave and befriends Sunstripe and Bluefen. He's asked to guide the pair further south to Redwall Abbey, so that Bluefen could provide Veil with a proper shelter and food. While recovering, Bluefen is also taught a bit of how to use a sling, so that she can defend herself and her baby. Veil is a fussy infant, constantly demanding food and attention and it reminds Bluefen of her father and Swartt. Part of her considers dumping the baby entirely, but she decides against it, not wishing to be as cruel and sadistic as the ferret she'd left. The journey continues with the three friends narrowly avoiding Swartt and using guerilla tactics to slow the horde down and lower Swartt's numbers.

As Redwall draws near, Sunstripe sends Bluefen and Skarlath to the abbey while he creates a diversion to keep Swartt away from the innocent beasts there. Secretly, Sunstripe fears meeting his mother, who now resides at Redwall, and he still wants to visit Salamandastron, which is further west. He promises Bluefen that they'll see each other again and Skarlath decides to act as a messenger between them once Bluefen is settled.

Sunstripe leaves and Skarlath informs the Redwallers of Bluefen and her baby. Some are wary, especially when hearing that a horde is approaching the Abbey. Martin the Warrior (and most of the other characters from Mossflower and Legend of Luke) has recently passed, and the only defenders are descendants of the Mossflower Holt and Lady Amber's squirrels. Abbess Bryony is willing to house Bluefen and Veil, but won't hesitate to give them both to Swartt if it means protecting the Abbey. An old Bella of Brockhall argues in defense of Bluefen and Veil due to the ferrets' association with her son, and commands the Abbey defenders to keep an eye on the woods, as well as sending the Skipper and a party of helpers after Sunstripe to keep him safe.

The combination of his rage against Sunstripe and the beasts guarding Redwall force Swartt to focus solely on the badger, leaving Bluefen and Veil safe. The book ends with Swartt and his forces beginning their march west, Skipperjo and his group catching up with Sunstripe and traveling with him, and Bluefen settling into Redwall with Veil.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I feel like, in a book format, this Book One would be pretty long, but it does have to set things up before Redwall gets involved. I wanted Veil to actually be alive in Book One, even if he isn't the main focus, and I also wanted to try and fix up the timeline issues the original book had. It might not be perfect, but I think I did pretty well. I'll write Books 2 and 3 at a later time.

[scnsuality]

closed starter for @men-of-paradise Jonah and Idar - continued from 29B [here]

The problem with seeking justice was that there was never a clear line between all the grey shades of morality. How much of a misdeed did it take to tip the scales to make a virtuous person deserving of punishment? Jonah had considered himself good-hearted for basically his entire life, never wishing any harm on anyone, seeing the good in people to the point where he was prone to being exploited. But as naive as he could seem, he wasn't above lashing out when he was scorned. So yes, when he found out the guy he'd been seeing, dreamed about a future with, was secretly already engaged to somebody else the entire time... he had decided to go an eye for an eye. Secretly taping himself having sex with the man, he'd sent the tape to the guy's fiancé, then his boss... then posted it online for everyone to see. Retribution that felt just in the moment, though clearly divinity disagreed.

He hadn't been certain whether he could trust his eyes as the deity manifested out of thin air, believing it to be a daydream at first - but the stranger's strength, those hands stripping and binding him to the bed certainly felt real. And if any doubts had been left, they were cleared away by Idar's thick cock, relentlessly pushing into him over and over and having the mortal moan in heat, his gaze hazy as he struggled to form a clear thought. It didn't even dawn on him how ironic it was how the punishment literally fit the crime. "I... Ohgod... Y-Yes!", he groaned, gently tugging at his restraints, his mind barely capable of figuring out what he was even agreeing to. "I won't ever do it again... Please....!", he purred, uncertain whether he was begging for mercy or for the deity's punishment to continue.

[writingforatwistedworld]

A wild normal request appear !

To clean your eyes from the savanaclaw courtship ask. May I request Lilia/Sebek/Silver courting the player ? (In self aware AU like the other)

(Please forgive me if you only accept letter request as when I went to the request thing they were all marked as closed, but since you said that request are open I thought I would try just in case. Sorry if this isn't accepted.)

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, possessiveness, obsession, religion, imprisonment, blood, murder, violence, unhealthy relationship, kidnapping

Lilia Vanrouge/Sebek Zigvolt/Silver-Him courting you

Now we don't know what kind of Fae Lilia really is (one of those small ones or dragon faes for example) but what we do know is that in the self-aware au their commitment is serious

Not “oh-I-like-them-and-they-like-me-too” serious but the “I-looked-my-darling-up-so-they-can-never-leave-me” serious

The only thing that could save you from this would you also being a Fae and being able to protect yourself

At the same time... this is Lilia

So how do things start?

Since we are talking about sentient characters in a game (*sobs* why??!) it begins with you in front of a phone and him behind it's screen

Lilia was already not only on cloud nine but on cloud ten when he felt your presence for the first time

So he couldn't just stand around and do nothing

And thus the road of “kidnap- *ahem* making-the-higher-being-looking-down-on-you-visit-you” began

But of course this takes time

So he prepares

In true fae fashion he also prepares gifts

You can't tell me he isn't swimming in money, he was a general after all

So, you will still get mountains of gold and other riches

And then, he doesn't even need to do that so that you would descend

No, suddenly you are there

Lilia knows that he can't just jump on you with mountains of gold and other presents

So he starts slow

Telling you more about himself, finding out what you like

You know, the stuff that is still normal

But then... yeah good luck after that stage

He will slowly bind you to him

Oh you want to go grocery shopping? Not without him!

You don't need to be friends with anybody, right? You got him! Right?

Before you know it you are suddenly wedded to a fae, have an adopted son and live in a place in which its inhabitants see you as a God

Smile dear! You are so loved!

But then why does everyone with only Lilia excluded so far away? Why do you feel like a prisoner?

But no, you shouldn't be greedy and just smile.

Don't question that one room in his house though, those chains connected to the bed are for a reason you don't want to know.

Btter behave like a good partner so you can keep the privilege of looking outside the window

How ironic, he has roses outside, making you feel like Aurora trapped inside her castle, minus the sleeping part

But don't you worry, your dear husband will take great care of you! And look! There is the painter! Smile for him so he can paint that family painting!

Sebek huh?

Well for starters, there is probably no one screaming louder about you than him

The young half-fae grew up in the Valley of thorns which is a red flag by itself (in the self-aware au)

So what would an obsessed young person with absolutely zero shame about their subject of admiration do if they were separated from that person which they admired by worlds?

You are completely right! He goes bananas

His training with Silver becomes very fast very aggressive

And he can't prepare some gifts either because he isn't exactly what we would call rich

So he hones his sword skills

Because of that he actually strains his body too much which leads to many futile lectures from Lilias side

And then goodness, you finally appear

I seriously don't know when he would have stopped to push his limits

There is no “soft start” with Sebek, there is only full-blown attention

For outsiders it might look like you two are just really close

But no, he is just “protecting you”

Ah yes, his dream of guarding the Overseer, how nice

Only that his interpretation of “nice” is “overbearing” and ”pushy” for you

But you have to admit that him being able to be so attentive is kind of impressive

Too bad that this is rather negatively used

And then suddenly you can't even leave for school

“It's too dangerous” he said

“They just want to use you” he said

The worst about this is that because of the limited contact you have with people you start to believe what he tells you

Sebek knows how to take care of people even though he doesn't seem like it

So even though you are literally imprisoned you are still living a rather good lifestyle

Just follow his lead and everything will be well, ok??!

Silver might have problems differentiating between this being reality or a dream

But let's start from the beginning, ok?

Silver grew up in a household which is highly religious

Aka he is dead set on you being an almighty God

This admiration grows over time and before you know it you have someone who would she'd blood to be close to you

So yeah, a blood thirst knight just for you (go godhood go! Ugh...)

Silver had prepared for you even before you had started to look down upon him (in other words: before you installed TWST)

Training day after day after day under the kind yet strict gaze of his father who could be surprisingly serious as soon as the subject was you

And was he trained well, that I tell you

He also doesn't own a lot of things but, like Sebek, but he does everything to be the perfect guard and servant

And then you descend

Oh how lucky he is! To experience this!

He thought that this would happen on a distant day in the future when he would be long gone

But here you were! Smiling at him!

Unlike most he won't imprison you

Oh no, he will make you dependant on him

Unknowingly

Maybe its a subconscious thing though...

But anyway, he helps you out since the start, becomes a important part of your life and makes you feel like you can't live in this world without him

The worst thing about this is you not even being able to point your finger at him

He is literally a Disney Princess so what do you expect? Your mind getting the memo? Haha no.

So the process of your relationship might seem normal but in truth it's you just feeling completely helpless

Maybe not everyone who tames birds like handing out lollipops is a trustworthy person...

But at least you will live comfortably

But umm... could you please let go of his hand? You are a bit too attached... No? Why? Why should he abandon you otherwise??!

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

id: the start of a twitter thread by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg @TheRaDR from Sept 15 2021 reading,

Today's a good day to talk about prayer, no? I know it's a thing that feels hard and uncomfortable to lots of folks, so let's spend some time unpacking some of what it can be. 1/x thread.

For starters, let me make this clear: I don't believe in vending machine theology. Like, there is no version of any understanding of the divine that I have that involves me praying for a pony and getting a pony. Or a fast car or that gig that I want or whatever. Courage, patience, compassion? That's different, we'll get there. "But rabbi, the traditional Jewish liturgy includes prayers for livelihood, for healing, for all sorts of things! We ask for stuff!" Yes, and the traditional Jewish liturgy is written in the first person plural. Not I. We. So again, patience, we'll get there. / end id]

The thread continues,

But first, I want to say a few things about the act of prayer. The Book of Samuel talks about a woman named Hannah who's stuck in a dark place; she finally breaks, starts crying, and then, the book tells us, she "increased her prayers before God…. Hannah spoke on her heart." She's considered the paragon of prayer in Judaism; she didn't recite formal liturgy. She teaches us, though, that prayer is about speaking on your heart. It's a means to express something of our deepest selves, and not only naming it, but offering it up to the great beyond. 

Whether or not you think of yourself as someone who believes in whatever might be called God, I'd like to suggest that there is power to this. I don't think you need to know to whom or what you're praying in order to pray.

Sometimes, you can just... pray. And see how it feels. If meditation can get us centered in the present moment, prayer can engage that presence, draw from or offer it up, or do both at the same time. Meditation is the work of the breath, of the stillness of the mind. 

Prayer is, as the Jewish tradition puts it, "work of the heart." This work of the heart often emerges from the hardest spaces. Sometimes it comes out of that moment when you're at the edge of your ability to cope, or grief, despair, fear, anger, disassociated numbness, or overwhelm. Or from a bunch of those things, all at once. 

Perhaps our prayers are open expressions of resentment, desperation, hope, gratitude, wonder, frustration, questions, or many of the other things a person might feel when we're up to the ears in it. Perhaps something else. I don't know. 

I can tell you that if you spend all of Yom Kippur yelling at God until you get to the place where the tears are, or yelling until you find a new truth that you hadn’t uncovered, that will be a day well spent. 

Yes, you can yell at God, you can be angry at God, you can yell at I-don't-know-if-there's-God-or-what-but-I'm-gonna-yell. The God in which I believe can take it.

Jews, anyway, have a long, proud tradition of yelling at God. It's... kind of how we roll. 

But real prayer doesn’t push aside hard feelings. Nor will it magically fix everything. It can help us to name what's happening, & to pour it out to the great transcendent beyond — to turn your isolated feeling into something that connects you, that binds you to something bigger. 

It is this outward offering that turns "feeling feelings" into prayer: we don't just experience them, we offer them up, to someone, something. We say, “here, can you hold on to at least a tiny piece of this anger, frustration and despair for just a second?” We connect our heart to the great infinite everythingness, the gushing, pulsing stream of life within and around us. We reach out.

It's about tuning into that which interlinks us all, that which is present within and between us. Try lifting up the things in the deepest places of your heart and try to release them like you're letting the wind take a balloon. You don't have to even know whether anyone's taking them or what, just try to pull the words up and out. 

So then, to get back to the words in the prayerbook. First of all, permission:

If you're in services and what's happening with the prayerbook and where you are with things isn't where your head is at, let me be hopefully not the first person to give you permission to just be where you are, tune out of the service and tune in to your heart, tune in to whatever's happening there, do that. If you do some real work there, you've done good. 

The point is not to recite every word of the Yom Kippur liturgy while your heart cries for attention. No. And as for crying in services? Feel free to ask anyone from any of the shuls I've attended regularly since the late 90's (aka when I got Jewy) if I have ever been seen sobbing hysterically during prayer services. Uh. Yes, hi, here is your permission slip to cry if you need to. 

Sometimes in the process of prayer you move stuff around and find true things and clear out some things and the true things come out through tears. That's OK. Sometimes life is so full and the only time you have time to be a certain kind of present is during prayer and so it turns out that's when you cry. That's OK. 

So, then, back to the words in the prayerbook. Whether you're more comfortable in the Hebrew (and occasionally Aramaic) or English, or a bit of both —permission slip to pray from whichever side works best for you — the prayerbook is meant to be your guide through a process. The liturgy has been crafted very intentionally. It's the trail for your hike. It's meant to take you on a series of risings & fallings, openings & closings, peaks & valleys. The blessings before & after the S'hma, before & after the Amidah, where (on YK) the viduis are, etc. We talk about keva (fixed form) and kavvanah (intention) as the heart of Jewish prayer. Taking the intention, the heart stuff I've been talking about and binding it to the words in the prayerbook, and offering it up. It takes practice, sure, but if you're in services a bunch tonight and tomorrow, why not practice?

Find some of the words that catch you in particular and really...pray them? See what it feels like to find some words that you wouldn't think to just write yourself and pray those?

And then we get around to the genius of Jewish prayer. The ways it shapes you, like water gently shaping a rock. The number of times I have, in prayer, had to find the ways and meanings around words I wouldn't have, in my tiny, finite, ego-driven self, thought to write. The ways that we — not I, we — has worked itself into me. It's not about my own love or sorrow. My own fate or concern. The hike has taken me to vistas more profound and beautiful than I possibly could have imagined on my own. 

And it's forced me to tap into pain and suffering greater than I wanted to, because that's part of the work, too That's OK. We. Us. In any case, I want to bless you with the opportunity to do some of the work of the heart — tonight, tomorrow, and any time after that.

In services, or just walking down the street, when you're with a cranky child, at any moment when you need to offer something up. Formal prayer — yes. And spontaneous prayer is valid, too. It was for Hannah, it is for you, too.

Offer something up. PS: some theological Qs can be addressed in this piece, though more Bible-focused. Viz prayer, some Jewish philosophers talk about prayer impacting the person praying, some talk about prayer impacting the divine, some a combination, you don’t have to pick.

[into-daylight-hope]

Qui-Gon Jinn: Certified Hypocrite, Fascinating Failure, Mass of Contradictions

For starters, I am just going to let direct quotes from the man speak for itself.

Some excerpts from Master & Apprentice

Wise words.

Wait a minute...

😯😯 What the hell is happening here? All quotes are from the same man in one book.

Qui-Gon Jinn doesn't have an ounce of self-awareness and it is so hilariously terrible.

What is even better (or worse), this is perfectly in line with The Phantom Menace characterization .

I mean,

Remember when he said all this than spent the rest of the movie obsessing over prophecies, the chosen one and literally the future?

"He still has so much to learn of the living force." Qui-Gon Jinn about Obi-Wan in the council scene

After that scene

"The boy is dangerous. They all sense it why can't you?" Obi-Wan Kenobi about Anakin Skywalker to Qui-Gon Jinn

You see Obi-Wan, Master Jinn here has completely lost any sense of "here and now" between his crusade against darkness and divine mission to save the Galaxy.

This in turn, unsurprisingly blinds him to the fact Anakin is not suitable to become a Jedi. Or at least not ready to directly move on to becoming a padawan.

Anakin himself would suffer in a road that is not meant for him. But he is not planning for Anakin the child. He is thinking about The Glorious Chose One.

He is the chosen one. You all must, see it.

And yet from Qui-Gon's perspective it is Obi-Wan who doesn't understand the Living Force.

I have to say if he is truly a student of the living force as many fans claim he has been failing the class for at least 8 years.

Let's move on to another set of entertaining and horrifyingly oblivious quotes from M&A.

If you look upward you can observe Mr. Here and Now in his natural habitat.

He really acts like future is set in stone than thinks he is the right person to talk about about concentrating in the moment. Unbelievable.

Let's look at this dialogue again. In contrast with the excerpt from above.

He is all about the future when it suits him. But when Obi-Wan makes a remark on it he obviously should just focus on the moment. This is actually the third time in this post where he contradicts himself while specifically chastising or criticizing Obi-Wan for something Qui-Gon actually does.

Now I don't think Qui-Gon acts with malice. But it is important to point out his obliviousness has become a way of ensuring he is never in the wrong.

He suffers from an immense hubris. And a man obsessed with prophecies and chosen ones definitely has some kind of savior complex.

But notably Jinn doesn't actually want to put any effort into enacting real change with his limited yet existent capabilities.

He turns down a council seat in M&A because he thinks it would hold him down. From what? Dear God, the reason they offered him a seat was for different opinions. Qui-Gon can complain all he wants but one time he actually had a chance to make his opinions a reality he freaking bailed.

Why? He doesn't want to face his own limits. He can't bare to try and fail. It is much easier to sustain a superiority complex when you are complaining from the sidewalk.

So he fixates all this belief onto prophecies, visions that will magically cure the Galaxy. And of course his place to help fulfill them. To the point where it is the one thing that keeps him standing.

He has binded meaning of his life and belief for goodness dangerously close to his supposed importance in the Galaxy. (You can feel the influences of his former master)

His absolute refusal to engage with reality turns him into mass of contradictions. Cause he doesn't know what he will find or become if he is mistaken in his belief of himself.

He can't face reinvention on the event of defeat.

But this situation was different. It had to be, because the only thing Qui-Gon knew to be absolutely true was that his vision was real.

Oh by the way, it turned out he misunderstood the vision. But when does being wrong ever stopped Qui-Gon Jinn?

No words.

Only Qui-Gon could have come near declaring himself a prophet after making a mistake. Maybe stop and reflect man? Just stop and think about your actions.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I have a bad feeling about this.

Qui-Gon Jinn: I don't sense anything.

Of course you don't.

Honestly he doesn't have much to speak for in the cosmic force department either.

(There is the whole force ghost thing I guess. But I have no idea if that is more connected with living or cosmic force. It seems to be more about spiritual enlightenment. Which is ridiculous when you consider Yoda had go through so many trials, face his darkside, learn to truly let go just for Force priestesses to deem him worthy enough to study immortality. Yes Qui-Gon never became a force ghost but he had started his training before he died. And much of Yoda's tests on TCW was about self-awareness. It is not just about being a good person. How did Force Priestesses approve Qui-Gon "I was meant to misinterpret this vision." Jinn? I would understand if he became wiser after death and faced his flaws and all but he never was on that level before he died. You might say even Anakin became a force ghost. But I would remind you, Anakin in the end broke out of denial, acknowledged the wrong of his ways and took that leap to the light side. Self-awareness seems such an important key to becoming a force ghost. Right there with selflessness. Personally it doesn't quite feel right for a character whose biggest flaws are their lack of introspection and hubris which we never see him rise above to be the one that discovers immortality again. It feels more like a rushed plot point to explain how we get from A to B.)

This post got out of control 😂. I honestly just wanted to point out lack of communication might be one of the reasons Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon have trouble understanding each other but it is sometimes even harder to understand Qui-Gon when he actually says something. Cause ration is not what drives him.

Qui-Gon is such a complex character. He is undeniably good especially compared to other SW characters. Yet for all fandom's deifying he might be the most flawed Jedi we see on the franchise. (The ones that fell to the dark side not included.)

It is a shame wider fandom completely write off his flaws to the degree I can't even recognize the character when they talk about Jinn. Cause that Qui-Gon is so hard to feel empathy for.

When people constantly make statements like "He is The Wisest sw character." his hypocrisy stops being amusing. It doesn't end on screen or page instead often used to bash other characters.

An unbelievable analysis from Wookiepedia:

When Jinn saved the Gungan exile Jar Jar Binks, who in turn swore a life-debt to him, his compassionate nature was such that Jinn took the hapless Gungan under his wing, much to Kenobi's dismay. His empathy toward all life forms, including the most pitiful and unfortunate, was Jinn's greatest strength. Additionally, he remained understanding and patient with Queen Padmé Amidala. During the short time they knew each other, he never asked for her to do more than she was willing to.

You know out of the two, Qui-Gon was the one who insulted Jar Jar to his face. And he didn't took Jar Jar under his wing. They forced him to take them to a city where Jar Jar could have been punished for entering. Now it was the pragmatic thing to do. For all three's survival not for their own gain. Understandable. But compassion is just pushing it.

Also he never asked Padme to do more than she was willing to do?

Padmé : Are you sure about this? Trusting our fate to a boy we hardly know? The Queen will not approve.

Qui-Gon Jinn : The Queen does not need to know.

Padmé : Well, I don't approve.

And he is aware she is the queen, herself. Padme was nearly tearing out her because of this man in TPM.

What is weird, Jinn in his bewildering hypocrisy probably thinks he is being admirably compassionate with Jar Jar, highly understanding and patient with Padme. We clearly see he is not.

Out of universe he has been a force ghost for decades now but fandom is nowhere near acknowledging his flaws than he is.

And honestly SW doesn't have that many major morally complex characters. People like Maul, Palpatine, Anakin,Ventress don't think they are serving a higher purpose or oblivious to the evils they commit.

Emotionally complicated, yes. Going through moral dilemmas, no.

Three major characters come to mind who make huge mistakes, condone or commit atrocities while thinking they are in the right/with good intentions/for a greater cause. With varying degrees of culpability.

Qui-Gon. Padme. Dooku.

In that order.

Let these characters be interesting instead of demonizing nearly inhumanly selfless Jedi characters. (They make mistakes too but funnily enough they are still way better beings than most people on our planet.)

By the way I found the epitaph "Fascinating Failure" from the article here. Especially the last paragraphs make some interesting points. ⬇️

👀

This post might seem harsh but that is expected since it focuses on Qui-Gon's flaws.

"People are more than their worst act,” Quote from Qui-Gon Jinn in Master & Apprentice

[invaderzia1]

Kinktober Day 7

Roleplay | Object Insertion | Stripping/Strip Tease

Pairing: Hanji Zoe x Fem!Reader

Tags: sex toys, object insertion, modern au, yes hanji ordered from bad dragon so if you don’t like don’t read

Maybe telling Hanji to do whatever they wanted was not the best play. This thought came to mind as she saw them walk into the room with a bag of unknown things. The way they pranced into the room, their smile beaming brightly was enough to cause the girl to think ‘I’m in danger’.

Hanji had them tied down onto their bed, restricting their movement so she couldn’t see what was being brought out. Hearing the pop of a cap before seeing Hanji walk in front of them, pouring a generous amount of lube onto their fingers. They slowly made their way in between her thighs, rubbing some of the lube on the outer area before sliding their fingers in. It was soft and gentle, trying to get the job done of properly lubricating her.

It only took a few minutes, quickly retracting their fingers before wiping them off on one of the hand towels. Hanji returned to the other side of the bed and reached into the bag, pulling out a decently sized bright pink dildo. The starter, or so Hanji liked to call it. They only used this one to get her ready for everything else they wanted to throw at her, a good omen for how tonight was going to be.

The tip of it began pushing further into her, spreading her pretty pussy apart as it slowly penetrated her. Hanji couldn’t help but smirk at the wet noises it made as they pumped it in and out, already having their girl this wet. It made Hanji giddy with excitement, knowing how fun the rest of this night would be.

“Such a good girl for me, taking this so nicely.”

Slowly twisting the dildo in and out, listening closely to the whines that escaped her mouth. Her eyes closed as she exhaled, trying to steady her breathing. She couldn’t let herself succumb to Hanji’s work just yet.

Hanji kept twisting and turning it until they felt their girl was ready for the next surprise of the night, feeling less resistance then when it was first in. Sliding it out, Hanji swept their tongue from the base to the tip, tasting the girls juices on it.

It was sick and depraved, but this was Hanji they were talking about, so she couldn’t be surprised. The way Hanji took pleasure in being able to taste her slick on the silicon dick was enough to get her heart pumping. Her cheeks dusted pink as she squirmed against the bindings, wishing to feel that tongue on her slick heat.

Hanji let out a loud cackle, jumping off the bed and grabbing the next toy from her bag, an interesting piece really. It was a bright blue ombré tentacle, starting rather small at the tip before growing quite large towards the base.

Oh. So this was the special shipment Hanji had spent weeks waiting for. Every time mail was dropped off they hurried through, looking disappointed every time it wasn’t what they wanted. And she knew this would only be the first of many that Hanji had planned for the evening.

Lubing it up properly, Hanji skipped back onto the bed, laying down so they had a great view, nestled between her thighs so they could watch her cunt properly get fucked. Meeting their partners gaze, Hanji wiggled their eyebrows, clearly eager to see this in action.

Nestling the tip between her already soaked thighs, Hanji began to push it in. It was strange. The shape was new and as it pushed into her, it stretched her out in a new way. She could feel the tip hitting her cervix as it’s base met flush with her hip bone. Oh fuck, this thing was awful and amazing at the same time.

As Hanji began to pull it out, the way it rubbed against her soft gummy walls had her moaning out. It wasn’t until it was slammed back into her that the moan became more to Hanji’s expectations. Loud and reverberating against the walls, the cackle from Hanji was not missed as they cheered on the girls pleasure.

“That’s it, let me hear your pretty voice.”

Hanji’s voice was almost drowned out from the girls cries of ecstasy as the toy was drove in and out of her cunt with no restraint. The imitation suctions hitting spots the girl had previous had no awareness were there.

“Fuck, babe.” She gasped out, her eyes widening as Hanji wedged it deep inside her. “‘S good. Feels so good.”

“That’s great, come on, keep yelling out for me.”

Hanji’s intense gaze was wild, eyes wide as they watched as every spasm and twitch captured their attention. They knew all the cues that she was close, and each one was quickly being ticked off that checklist. Of course the tentacles were going to be a fan favorite, that was a given said the reviews online.

The girls hands clenched and unclenched, trying to grab onto anything for dear life. Had they not been tied up most likely they would have been pawing at Hanji’s thighs or nestled firmly in their hair. It was torture, not being able to touch the one you love.

Hanji increased their pace, pushing the girl further towards her impending orgasm. With one twist of their wrist, they heard her ear piercing scream as she finally was pushed over that edge. Hanji brought their face closer, watching the way her cunt gushed as the toy was pushed in an out through her orgasm.

As her orgasm died down, she looked down to see Hanji, who was removing the toy from her cunt. Adjusting their glasses, they admired the toy.

“Wow! Who knew this one would have such an effect on you?” They shouted, excitedly. “I’ll have to keep that noted in my brain, for the next time.”

Jumping up from the bed, Hanji discarded the toy back into their bag. Reaching into the bag, Hanji scooped up another, carrying it to the bed and untangling it.

This one had the works, spikes and grooves all over the thing. It did not look like any human cock in the world, probably something you’d see in one of those weird sci-fi movies. There was a small cord attached to it, keying the girl in that this one would have a bit more of a buzz to it.

“I can’t wait to take notes on how you react to this one.” They were positively gleaming, the look in their eyes was enough to scare the average person, luckily their partner was more than excited by it. “All the reviews online said this one was amazing!” The last syllables were said in a sing songy voice.

As Hanji continued to squeal out their praises, they began setting it up, pressing the tip against her moist entrance. Slowly nudging the tip in, there was little resistance, her previous orgasm having provided enough lubrication to prepare her for this thing. It was thicker in the middle, thinning out towards the base. The feeling of it being forced into her was strange, all those spikes and ridges tickling those already sensitive spots in her.

Instead of pulling it back out, Hanji kept it sitting inside her, turning their attention to the cord. Grabbing the remote attached and flicking it onto its lowest setting. It buzzed nicely inside her, making her moan out. It was all too much, even without moving it the vibrations were proving to be too much for her sensitive cunt.

Pulling it back out, Hanji pushed it back in, making sure to note the way her thighs twitched and her eyes rolled back in her head as she whined at the intrusion. Hanji couldn’t help but coo at the poor girl, whispering for her to relax, this will feel so good.

Not giving the girl much of a minute to think, Hanji began slamming the toy in and out of her already sore hole. They knew they didn’t need to do much to make this orgasm come quickly, already riding off the last orgasm.

This toy had a different effect from the previous, the smaller end of the base made her suck it back in as it exited. The vibration of this one only aided in the way the ridges were stroking the nerves inside her. It was so big as well, it’s thickness stretching her in a way that made her roll her eyes back into her head. The reviews probably did a good job painting a picture of the effect this would have, as noted by Hanji’s face.

True to Hanji’s prediction, she didn’t last long, already clenching the toy tightly in place as she creamed around it. Hanji’s howls as she came were only fuel for her orgasm, wanting nothing more than to keep her partner happy.

Her world went white as she lost herself to the pleasure, twitching as the vibration became too much. Hanji was quick to notice the change between pleasure and to pain, sliding the toy out of her before switch it off. Their hand quickly began to cradle her as she continued to spasm. When her eyes opened, she looked to see Hanji at their side, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“You did so good for me, baby,” they cooed, nestling their nose into her hair.

There was hope in her eyes as she saw Hanji stand back up, throwing the toy back into the bag and not immediately pulling another one out. Instead, Hanji paced around the room, taking a good look of the fucked out girl, the way her skin glistened from the sweat that coated her skin. Or the way her eyes looked so tired yet satisfied.

As Hanji turned back on their heel, passing by the bindings on the girls feet, that small glimmer of hope dying down as the binding weren’t undone. Hanji’s hands dug into the bag, producing a large pink and black dildo that was oddly shaped like something from the ocean, the tip ridged and flattened. The back end look like some sort of shell this ring probably crawled out of.

Hanji smirked even more sadistically at the girl, seeing the way her tired eyes widened as she yet again regretted giving Hanji free reign tonight.

“Let’s see if we can get a few more outta ya tonight.”

[megan-is-mia]

Hi! Is it okay if I request a poly Pomefiore nsfw oneshot with the prompt starter 103- “You’re so beautiful, chained up like that on my bed. I think I might just fuck you like this.”

Thank you!

(Hopefully, this will make you happy despite how late it is >_<) 103. “You’re so beautiful, chained up like that on my bed. I think I might just fuck you like this.” (Yandere! Pomefiore Dorm x Fem! S/o) (Warning NON-CON AND NSFW AHEAD)

(Y/n) had always been an early riser, ever since she was a child she’d been that way. Since coming to Night Raven College and being sorted into Pomefiore that had not changed. While others rolled out of bed and tamed their bedhead into a presentable coiffure before greeting the day, she’d spend the hour of the sun’s rising just basking in its splendor. Yet today was one of the few times she despised her early-rising nature. For by waking up she had returned to the horrifying nightmare that was her reality. 

She was aware that she was considered a beauty, even among her fellow Pomefiore students where good-looks are almost a requirement to be in the dorm she was considered to be far above-average. Such good looks might have made another soul happy or greedy but not her, for paired with her fair features were a reclusive mind and timid heart that made that gift of beauty a curse. (Y/n)’s  discomfort with dealing with people was half the reason she’d become an early bird as to avoid the conflict before it began. Yet how could she avoid conflict when the place she’d awoken would bring her nothing but conflict? How could (Y/n) hope to continue her life of trying to blend in when people were sure to ask questions at breakfast? Try as she might she couldn't think of a way to explain why she had slept in the dormhead’s bed instead of her own. Yes, that’s where dawn was greeting her. From the unfamiliar warmth and comfort of Vil Schoenheit’s bed as the male in question continued to sleep seemingly undisturbed by her distress. It shouldn’t have been possible for things to be worse, but somehow they were. For it wasn’t just the beautiful boy with his blonde hair that turned lavender at the ends that kept her company but two additional bodies that ensured she wouldn't move a muscle while they slept on.  If (Y/n) turned her head she could see the vice-dormhead Rook Hunt snoring peacefully with his arm wrapped loosely around her waist, his breath ruffling her hair as he breathed in and out.

As for the third occupant nestled snugly in the bed… It took (Y/n) a few moments to recognize the first-year who’s taken the liberty of using her chest as a pillow in his sleep. In her defense, Epel Felmier was basically a stranger to her. The one time they’d spoken being when she’d tried to turn him down gently a few weeks back. After that awkward encounter where she’d had to tell him she wasn’t interested, she’d been making more of an effort to try and blend in with the masses. So why was she here? And why… did her lower body feel so numb? Her head throbbed when she tried to think about it and she let out a small groan of pain as she did so. The moment the sound left her lips, the arm around her waist tightened as Rook let out a yawn. She felt his mouth press against the nape of her neck to place a kiss before he buried his nose into her hair with a contented sigh. “Good morning (Y/n)” the green-eyed male purred softly, his voice still rough from sleep and made her shiver in disgust. (Y/n) imagined that if she were to speak her voice would sound even rougher than his. considering all the screaming she’d done the night before. Yes, despite the pounding headache she had, the memories of the night before were beginning to make their way back to her. How she’d felt unusually tired after dinner, how she’d woken up with her hands cuffed above her head. She’d called out desperately hoping that someone would hear her plea and come to her rescue. Oh her pleas were heard alright, heard by the very souls who’d put her in this situation. She did not remember what exactly they’d said to her in the moment. Yet one phrase from Vil came back to her loud and clear as when it had been first uttered. “You’re so beautiful, chained up like that on my bed. I think I might just fuck you like this” the blonde had growled out, his perfectly cultivated appearance and personality torn away to reveal a man utterly consumed by lovesickness. Epel would have been the first one on her had he not been held back by Rook who reminded him playfully to respect his elders. The first-year had retorted back that it wasn’t fair for him to have to wait when he’d been pining the hardest and been the only one formally rejected by (Y/n). Still, he’d acquiesced to the matter, standing with crossed arms as he watched Vil run his hands over the girl, muttering a mix of criticisms and compliments as he went lower and lower. The entire time the young woman’s only contributions had been pleas for them to stop, for them to let her go, for them to act like nothing had ever happened. All these requests had been met with callous laughter and condescending platitudes. After Vil had completed his overview of (Y/n) he gestured to the other two men to come join him on the bed. Now instead of one set of roaming hands on her body, there were three: pinching, squeezing, petting, and stroking. It was all so overwhelming; one moment she was struggling to keep her legs closed so her pants couldn't be removed, the next she was naked as a newborn babe with her legs thrown over Rook’s shoulders as he ate her out. When she tried to protest again, Vil’s lips were pressed against hers as he shoved his tongue down her throat. As for her bust… well it seemed Epel seemed to be quite interested in that part of her if the fact he was suckling greedily on one nipple while pinching the other between his fingers. Why it’s a wonder she was able to resist cumming for so long with all the stimuli she was being barraged with. So when she lost it, she lost it hard. Moaning into Vil’s mouth arching up into Epel’s touch, and drenching Rook’s face with her juices. Yet the man had kept going, tongue fucking her ever though she was already overstimulated to give the other two men a chance to undress and jerk themselves off to full-hardness. (Y/n) was on the cusp of a second orgasm when Rook pulled back and Vil took his spot between her legs. She’d whimpered when Vil had pressed his cock against her dripping entrance but hadn’t been able to stop him from sinking into her with a soft growl. Nor had (Y/n) been able to stop Epel from prying her mouth open so he could stuff her throat with his dick. A few moments later she felt something prodding at her already stretched-out cunt as Rook eased his cock in beside the other blonde’s with a low groan. She would have tried to protest this move, had she been able to speak that is. Wasting no time, all three men began fucking her with reckless abandon. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on fire, and her eyes rolled back in her skull as she was fucked senseless. And their stamina, dear lord their stamina. The three must have taken some kind of recovering potion ahead of time in order to keep going when she was nothing more than a limp noodle from overstimulation from her fourth orgasm in rapid suggestion. (Y/n) was already half-unconscious when they’d all finally had their fill of her. Epel forced her to swallow his load as Rook and Vil pulled out of her to watch their cum drip out of her well-fucked cunt with rapt attention. Eventually (Y/n)’s   wrists were released from their bindings and kisses were pressed against the skin that had been rubbed raw from her struggles. Someone, she wasn’t sure who used a damp towel to clean her up before she was helped under the covers and felt arms wrap around her body as the three males got comfortable beside her. (Y/n) wanted to try and stay awake so she could have the chance to escape, but she was truly too weary for that and fell asleep after only a few minutes of laying there. Which then of course brought her back to the now of this morning. The now, where she had a blonde hunter speaking sweet-nothings into her ear as the first-year beside her pressed his face more insistently into her bosom and the dormhead slumbered on totally unaware of the situation at hand. She let out a deep sigh, slightly displacing Epel with the moment so he lifted his head from her chest with a sleepy expression. He stared at her with big, innocent-looking eyes. If this had been the first time she’d seen such a face (Y/n) might have been inclined to stroke his cheek and coo. However, she now knew too well what horrors hide under the pretty exterior. “Heya (Y/n)” he said his words slurred as he let his face fall back into place in her cleavage with a soft yawn. “Bonjour Monsieur Crabapple” Rook said, lifting his hand from (Y/n)’s waist in order to ruffle Epel’s hair affectionately, even as the younger boy let out a whine of protest at the gesture. If she hadn’t been scared out of her mind, the young woman might have tried to shush them so they wouldn’t wake Vil up yet. Everytime she closed her eyes she saw his depraved expression in her mind and she wasn’t sure she had the willpower to deal with that sight yet. Too bad that choice wasn’t up to her, as the male in question let out a yawn and stretched his arms over his head before turning his head her way with one beautiful violet eye open to gaze at her. Whatever he saw, seemed to please the young man as his mouth curled into a smile as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. (Y/n) forced herself not to recoil at the kiss, despite how much she wanted to. Vil’s expression was so sickly sweet that it made her stomach tie itself up in anxious knots. “Morning my darling” Vil said, before pressing a second kiss to the girl’s forehead. The pet name only made her insides twist-up tighter. (Y/n) could feel the panic she’d been repressing since she woke up finally got to her. As her heart began to thump wildly and her body quivered like a leaf in the wind with fresh tears forming in the corners of her eyes. If she thought such a display wouldn't faze the boys she was wrong as it only put them all on high alarm and fussing over her.  She could feel her grip on the waking world begin to fade as her vision blurred and she passed out amidst frantically shaking and worried words from the three males. (Y/n) would have to face reality sooner or later, but it didn’t have to be now. Now she could drift through her own personal dream world for a few more hours of peaceful, blissful ignorance before she would be forced to start adjusting to being the trophy-girlfriend to the trio of insatiable men who’d ruin her life otherwise… THE END

[paper--moons]

CG!Aizawa Headcanons

Aizawa isn't exactly what one might consider a traditional cg. It isn't that he's not good at it, or that he doesn't like it. No, he's nontraditional in the sense that he doesn't treat his little one much different than how he treats them when they're big; he's very matter-of-fact about it. Overly cutesy baby talking them doesn't feel right, endearments come out clumsy and sounding almost forced in his mind nine times out of ten. He gets in his own way with stuff like that. Overall the most noticeable difference when he's minding after them is that he speaks a bit more softly, and there is a calmer and more at ease air about him whenever he is taking care of them.

That isn't to say he doesn't show them any sort of affection however, be it through words or actions. He just tends to be more subtle. And while both can be difficult for him, he is better at it when it comes to actions. Aizawa is the type that gets them little gifts, things that catch his eye that remind him of them in some way. Picks up their favorite snacks when he sees them on sale, just small gestures that let them know he pays attention to them and cares for them. And though he's not the most touchy feely either, he puts forth a real effort to remember that they're only little, and that things like hugs can mean a lot to them.

Often goes out of his way to ask them what they need. He's a very attentive cg (like treading dangerously close to helicopter parent territory), but even he can't read minds and some things aren't always obvious. "Your face is a little warm, are you feeling okay?" "Do you need a hug?" "Do you want to hold my hand?" Things like that. Almost always it's phrased as a yes or no question, so that even if they are nonverbal that day they can still shake their head to answer him.

Pretends he doesn't care about what his little one decides to call him—it is up to them, after all—but he not-so-secretly melts whenever he hears them call him Papa. It makes him feel like he's doing something right despite often feeling out of his depth when taking care of them. He knows he's not the most openly affectionate and all, so for them to still see him as being worthy of being their Papa? It's a very big deal to him.

His little one might not have a naptime, but he certainly does. Aizawa will pull them down with him, hugging them close and resting his chin on top of their head to keep them in place. They cannot escape the infamous Papazawa hold. He lets them think they are doing him a favor though, claiming it's Papa's naptime and he needs the company (Which, there is truth to this; it's a lot easier for him to fall asleep and sleep more soundly if he knows they are nearby and more importantly safe.)

Aizawa has exactly three images folders on his phone. One has pictures for work related things, the second has pictures of all the cats he's seen while out on patrol, and the third is nothing but pictures of his little one. Whether it be of them by themself, shots of the two of them together, or of things they've made for him, doesn't matter. He's very sentimental believe it or not, and on top of that is very proud of them. He's totally the type that would keep a picture of them in his wallet too (like the proud papa he is), but that's not as secure as his phone.

Absolutely can and will use his binding cloth as a makeshift baby carrier, and he better not hear anybody say anything about its intended purpose either. For starters it's multipurpose, and besides it was literally made to firmly hold other people. To him there's no difference between using it to catch a rowdy villain or to keep his rowdy little one close by for convenience's sake. It isn't uncommon for him to decide that they can simply vibe while he goes about his business, kept safely against his chest. Of course this comes with the tradeoff that they'll play with his hair, but he doesn't mind so long as they don't tug on it.

[niightravcns]

Tags

welcome to my wonderland [ooc]

silence is golden [ic]

an idol in the sea of infamy [visage]

good things come with strings [musings]

twisted nights and sick delights [aesthetics]

so what does it matter if tou become mute? [headcanons]

struggle though you may; the rules won't bend [memes & prompts]

now sing and keep singing [playlist]

according to my ultimate design [psa]

taste their tears and hear their screams [gallery]

just one teensy little thing [reply]

you wouldn't want to mess with me [answer]

up above they hate chatter; or so i've been told [dash commentary]

good luck and breath deep [dash games]

guess your dreams ain't turning out so swell [wishlist]

that's the price; that's the bargain [plotting call]

as for love; all of the above applies [shipping call]

everybody's bill comes due [starter call]

well go on; take it or leave it [inbox call]

jewels begin to lose their glow; cities go to rack and ruin [open starter]

is it binding? goodness yes! [closed starter]

i always get just what i want [saved]

style au courante [mun's art/edits]

you'd better watch your tail [crack]

since you're in love with a prince [shipping]

these poor unfortunate souls [promo]

they say he's so quiet; so shy and demure [self promo]

wild soirees of exquisit sin [nsfw]

[stargaze-art]

Scars - JonMartin (TMA)

“What about this one?”

Jon hummed softly as Martin traced the scar that crossed over his shoulder. He had almost forgotten about it, and Martin gently running his thumb over it sent a wave of remembrance over his body, shivering slightly at the flash of the blade in his mind.

“That one was from Melanie. She had been afflicted with the Slaughter because of a ghost bullet, and I got stabbed trying to get it out, since we woke her up.”

Martin laughed softly, and Jon didn’t want that laugh to end. Martin’s voice was honey on the ears, and Jon wanted to relish in the sweetness of it. He hadn’t heard a laugh in weeks while they were living in the safe house, and now that it’d made an appearance he wanted so desperately to make him laugh over and over again. Anything to hear that sweet, deep, viscous laugh that was so unlike Martin’s normally mezzo speaking voice.

“What’s so funny, sir?” If not for the tone, maybe Martin would have stopped laughing; but Jon’s tone was nowhere near annoyed, instead showing off a light-hearted amusement. Dare he say he also heard love in it.

“I just… think you were a little stupid for trying to cut it out of her while she was asleep.”

“Oh trust me, I regretted it after I got hurt. But after that… I mean, we got our Melanie back, so it was alright.”

“The Melanie that hates your guts?”

“Alright, you, don’t remind me.” Jon looked over him and suddenly turned on his side. “My turn to ask.”

Jon hadn’t realized how many little bruises and scars Martin had. Martin wasn’t normally one for taking off his clothes, but as he grew more comfortable, and since they were isolated in that safe house Daisy allowed them to stay in, Martin grew accustomed to walking around the house without a shirt or without trousers. Sometimes both. Pleasantly surprising, as Jon always got a good look at his lover’s body, but definitely a point when Jon started to notice. All of the indentations, the bumps, the raised marks that decorated Martin’s body alongside the plethora of freckles that dotted his back like constellations in an evening sky.

“There’s really not much to ask about, but go on ahead, Jon.” Martin looked at him like he’d hung the moon. Of course, to Martin, he did.

“Alright… Let’s start with this one.” He gently took Martin’s hand and caressed a scar on his thumb gingerly, as if one wrong move would open up the wound even though it had long since closed, skin cells binding together and forming the puckered scar.

“Right! A cooking accident when I was younger. I was making food for my mother, and I cut my hand with the knife.”

“Not surprising.” Jon chuckled softly and pressed a sweet kiss to the scar, looking up at Martin with pretty green eyes that he hoped held the world’s biggest pool of affection.

“Quite the klutz, as my mother says,” Martin responded, waggling his finger gently at Jon when he moved his mouth away. “I think dinner that night was supposed to be grilled chicken, but after that accident and a proper ton of crying, we ordered takeout. I’m sure it tasted way better than anything I could have conjured up in the kitchen, I’m a right abomination.”

Jon couldn’t help it. He laughed once Martin took a pause, and Martin broke out into a gleeful smile. Jon’s laugh was so unlike his normal voice. No matter how tired or upset Jon sounded, whether the exhaustion of being The Archivist pervaded his entire being, Jon’s laugh was… god, it was gorgeous. That was as simple as Martin could get, but if Martin had used his poetry? There’d be fifty different comparisons he could make, and he wouldn’t even be able to reuse a single one. Every emotion related to enamorment crossed his mind when he heard a true laugh from his lover, and it was overwhelming in all of the right ways. As Jon’s laugh died down, Martin couldn’t help sweetly pressing a kiss to his jawline, feeling the bristles of his beard and falling even more in love by the second.

Jon finally caught his breath and calmed down enough to continue raking his gaze over Martin’s uncovered body. If he wasn’t looking for something in particular, he’d spend time counting the numerous dots that resembled raindrops on a window. In fact, Jon wasn’t a poet, but he would dare mention that every time he smelled the petrichor, he thought of Martin.

His thought process was interrupted by a long scar that covered his shoulder. “What about this one?”

“... Hm. I don’t really remember, if I’m being honest.”

“How do you not remember? It looks painful.”

“Jon. I am literally the most careless person when it comes to bumping into things, it’s not even funny anymore. I wake up with random scars every day, and bruises and scratches are not really concerning anymore.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. I get a couple of those, mostly from bumping into tables.”

“Honestly, yeah, it’s as simple as that.”

“Well… what about this one?”

Jon brought a hand up to trace an almost invisible scar that had caught his eye. It was well-hidden by the eyebrow hairs Martin had, but the top of it came into view, peeking out as if to say hello with its silent greeting. Martin was silent for a minute, his expression sort of going flat. Not blank, like Jon had learned was Martin’s clueless face. It seemed to be one that Martin got when thinking about the Lonely.

Trauma.

“What was that?” Martin asked. His voice barely kept itself from wavering, and he cleared his throat as he snapped from his reverie. The entire scene flashed before his eyes in that moment, and he could hardly stop it.

“That … that scar. On your eyebrow. Did… did you hit your head or…?” Jon was resisting the urge to look in his head. As tempting as the door was, he had promised to refrain from it. Oh how tempting the door was, the flood of knowledge pushing against the barrier as if it was putting a heavy strain on the metaphorical wood. Jon could practically reach out and touch the knob and it’d all come spilling out, and Jon would be overwhelmed with whatever had entered into Martin’s head that was oh so tempting, so close to his reach—

“I uh… When I was taking care of my mother, I ran into something,” was all Martin said. “Well, i-it was less of running into and she uh… I forgot something of hers that she needed, it was uh…”

Martin was clearly having trouble describing the scenario, and Jon almost felt bad for asking. He gently reached forward and caressed a hand against his cheek.

He flinched away, and it was at that moment, Jon knew this was more than what he was describing.

“She uh— she was upset, and rightfully so I mean— I was— I didn’t mean to do it, really, but it was— it was really bad. I did really bad and I deserved it—,”

“Martin,” Jon started, but it was almost as if Martin didn’t even hear him. His breathing was starting to pick up.

“—After all, sometimes I just— sometimes I’m just a bad son, and I need to be told what’s right—,”

“Martin, honey…”

“—And don’t even get me started on when I make the wrong meal—,”

“Martin.”

Jon didn’t realize that he’d raised his voice a bit until Martin looked at him, tears in his eyes, and he quickly began to try and rectify his mistake.

“Martin, I am… I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice… You were spiralling, I just… I wanted to get you out.”

The man next to him nodded silently, but he didn’t seem convinced. “I-I’m sorry, Jon, I didn’t intend to upset you…”

“Hey, hey…” Jon gently took Martin’s face in his hands. “You didn’t upset me at all, I promise. I’m just worried about you…”

“I… Why?”

“Because… I care about you, a lot. And I’m here for you. Seeing you like this… I want to make it all better, and I know I can’t but… I hope you know that I’m here for you.”

“... Oh, Jon…” Martin’s tears were free-flowing now, and they dribbled down his cheeks and onto the sheet of the bed. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You did everything. Sometimes I wonder what I did myself to catch your attention.” Jon gently caressed Martin’s cheek, thumb tracing over his lover’s cheekbone with a feather-light touch. God forbid anyone hurt his Martin again, that’s for sure. Jon would raise hell for the love of his life.

“Martin, I need you to tell me when things I do bother you, okay?”

“... Of course.”

“Martin…”

Martin squirmed feverishly under Jon’s look. “I… I know.”

“I understand that it’s hard… we want to do anything we can to please our loved ones. But you have to talk to me… I want you to be happy, and if I do something that bothers you, you need to tell me.”

“And if talking’s hard?”

“... Write a note. Just… give me something, okay?”

Martin sighed deeply. He knows inside that Jon is only trying to help, but this feels like such a monumental task that even only hearing what was requested of him exhausted him to his core. Just the thought of talking about it, it felt like a burden on both himself and the other person, and to do that to Jon of all people? For starters, Jon was going through all of this with Jonah Magnus, and then hiding in the safe house. Plus Jon was prone to anger, what if he didn’t understand? Not everything Martin worried about made sense, he knew that, and Jon had a tendency to dismiss him, especially back when they were still working together in the Institute.

“Martin?”

Jon’s voice, sweet like a melody, brought him back to his senses, and those gentle eyes, greener than a meadow in the middle of summer, sunken in with sleep yet vibrant in color still. It made him feel a little comforted. Yes, this Jon… this Jon was different. Jon wasn’t under the stress of work, he wasn’t asking for Martin to do deceptively hard tasks that just took everything out of him. Martin didn’t have to be his employee here, just his friend and someone to love. And that made things a thousand times better.

“Yes, I’m… I can do that. It’ll be hard, but… I’ll try.”

Jon smiled, and for a second, all was right. Martin almost forgot about everything in the world, just focused on the sweet expression in front of him. Sweeter than sugar, most days. Martin leaned forward and kissed Jon’s forehead before gently pushing his hands away and wiping the tears off of his face.

“Did you know that tears are actually good for the face? They can clean your face and actually help clear pores, leading to less acne.”

Martin scoffed and laughed a bit. “Jon, please.”

“Sorry, sorry! I just thought it was interesting.”

Martin was laughing once again, softer but still kind and sweet, and everything felt right.

From here on, Jon decided he would do anything he could to keep Martin happy. He didn’t know what it would take, but he knew he would try his hardest, even through… whatever was going to happen. It was his vow.

[grigori77]

2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10.  WOLFWALKERS – eleven years ago, Irish director Tomm Moore exploded onto the animated cinema scene with The Secret of Kells, a spellbinding feature debut which captivated audiences the world over and even garnered an Oscar nomination.  Admittedly I didn’t actually even know about it until I discovered his work through his astonishing follow-up, Song of the Sea (another Academy Award nominee), in 2015, so when I finally caught it I was already a fan of Moore’s work.  It’s been a similarly long wait for his third feature, but he’s genuinely pulled off a hat-trick, delivering a third flawless film in a row which OF COURSE means that his latest feature is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my top animated feature of 2020.  I could even be tempted to say it’s his best work to date … this is an ASTONISHING film, a work of such breath-taking, spell-binding beauty that I spent its entire hour and three-quarters glued to the screen, simple mesmerised by the wonder and majesty of this latest iteration of the characteristically stylised “Cartoon Saloon” look.  It’s also liberally steeped in Moore’s trademark Celtic vibe and atmosphere, once again delving deep into his homeland’s rich and evocative cultural history and mythology while also bringing us something far more original and personal – this time the titular supernatural beings are magical near-human beings whose own subconscious can assume the form of very real wolves.  Set in a particularly dark time in Irish history – namely 1650, when Oliver Cromwell was Lord Protector – the story follows Robyn (Honor Kneafsey, probably best known for the Christmas Prince films), the impetuous and spirited young daughter of English hunter Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean), brought in by the Protectorate to rid the city of Kilkenny of the wolves plaguing the area.  One day fate intervenes and Robyn meets Mebh Og MacTire (The Girl at the End of the Garden‘s Eve Whittaker), a wild girl living in the woods, whose accidental bite gives her strange dreams in which she becomes a wolf – turns out Mebh is a wolfwalker, and now so is Robyn … every aspect of this film is an utter triumph for Moore and co, who have crafted a work of living, breathing cinematic art that’s easily the equal to (if not even better than) the best that Disney, Dreamworks or any of the other animation studios could create.  Then there’s the excellent voice cast – Bean brings fatherly warmth and compassion to the role that belies his character’s intimidating size, while Kneafsey and Whittaker make for a sweet and sassy pair as they bond in spite of powerful cultural differences, and the masterful Simon McBurney (Harry Potter, Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) brings cool, understated menace to the role of Cromwell himself.  This is a film with plenty of emotional heft to go with its marvels, and once again displays the welcome dark side which added particular spice to Moore’s previous films, but ultimately this is still a gentle and heartfelt work of wonder that makes for equally suitable viewing for children as for those who are still kids at heart – ultimately, then, this is another triumph for one of the most singularly original filmmakers working in animation today, and if Wolfwalkers doesn’t make it third time lucky come Oscars-time then there’s no justice in the world …

9.  WONDER WOMAN 1984 – probably the biggest change for 2020 compared to pretty much all of the past decade is how different the fortunes of superhero cinema turned out to be.  A year earlier the Marvel Cinematic Universe had dominated all, but the DC Extended Universe still got a good hit in with big surprise hit Shazam!  Fast-forward to now and things are VERY different – DC suddenly came out in the lead, but only because Marvel’s intended heavy-hitters (two MCU movies, the first Venom sequel and potential hot-shit new franchise starter Morbius: the Living Vampire) found themselves continuously pushed back thanks to (back then) unforeseen circumstances which continue to shit all over our theatre-going slate for the immediate future.  In the end DC’s only SERIOUS competition turned out to be NETFLIX … never mind, at least we got ONE big established superhero blockbuster into the cinemas before the end of the year that the whole family could enjoy, and who better to headline it than DC’s “newest” big screen megastar, Diana Prince? Back in 2017 Monster’s Ball director Patty Jenkins’ monumental DCEU standalone spectacularly realigned the trajectory of a cinematic franchise that was visibly flagging, redesigning the template for the series’ future which has since led to some (mostly) consistently impressive subsequent offerings.  Needless to say it was a damn tough act to follow, but Jenkins and co-writers Geoff Johns (Arrow and The Flash) and David Callaham (The Expendables, Zombieland: Double Tap, future MCU entry Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings) have risen to the challenge in fine style, delivering something which pretty much equals that spectacular franchise debut … as has Gal Gadot, who’s now OFFICIALLY made the role her own thanks to yet another showstopping and definitive performance as the unstoppable Amazonian goddess living amongst us.  She’s older and wiser than in the first film, but still hasn’t lost that forthright honesty and wonderfully pure heart we’ve come to love ever since her introduction in Zack Snyder’s troublesome but ultimately underrated Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (yes, that’s right, I said it!), and Gadot’s clear, overwhelming commitment to the role continues to pay off magnificently as she once again proves that Diana is THE VERY BEST superhero in the DCEU cinematic pantheon.  Although it takes place several decades after its predecessor, WW84 is, obviously, still very much a period piece, Jenkins and co this time perfectly capturing the sheer opulent and over-the-top tastelessness of the 1980s in all its big-haired, bad-suited, oversized shoulder-padded glory while telling a story that encapsulates the greedy excessiveness of the Reagan era, perfectly embodied in the film’s nominal villain, Max Lord (The Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal), a wishy-washy wannabe oil tycoon conman who chances upon a supercharged wish-rock and unleashes a devastating supernatural “monkey’s paw” upon the world. To say any more would give away a whole raft of spectacular twists and turns that deserve to be enjoyed good and cold, although they did spoil one major surprise in the trailer when they teased the return of Diana’s first love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) … needless to say this is another big blockbuster bursting with big characters, big action and BIG IDEAS, just what we’ve come to expect after Wonder Woman’s first triumphant big screen adventure.  Interestingly, the film starts out feeling like it’s going to be a bubbly, light, frothy affair – after a particularly stunning all-action opening flashback to Diana’s childhood on Themyscira, the film proper kicks off with a bright and breezy atmosphere that feels a bit like the kind of Saturday morning cartoon action the consistently impressive set-pieces take such unfettered joy in parodying, but as the stakes are raised the tone grows darker and more emotionally potent, the storm clouds gathering for a spectacularly epic climax that, for once, doesn’t feel too overblown or weighed down by its visual effects, while the intelligent script has unfathomable hidden depths to it, making us think far more than these kinds of blockbusters usually do.  It’s really great to see Chris Pine return since he was one of the best things about the first movie, and his lovably childlike wide-eyed wonder at this brave new world perfectly echoes Diana’s own last time round; Kristen Wiig, meanwhile, is pretty phenomenal throughout as Dr Barbara Minerva, the initially geeky and timid nerd who discovers an impressive inner strength but ultimately turns into a superpowered apex predator as she becomes one of Wonder Woman’s most infamous foes, the Cheetah; Pascal, of course, is clearly having the time of his life hamming it up to the hilt as Lord, playing gloriously against his effortlessly cool, charismatic action hero image to deliver a compellingly troubling examination of the monstrous corrupting influence of absolute power.  Once again, though, the film truly belongs to Gadot – she looks amazing, acts her socks off magnificently, and totally rules the movie.  After this, a second sequel is a no-brainer, because Wonder Woman remains the one DC superhero who’s truly capable of bearing the weight of this particular cinematic franchise on her powerful shoulders – needless to say, it’s already been greenlit, and with both Jenkins and Gadot onboard, I’m happy to sign up for more too …

8.  LOVE & MONSTERS – with the cinemas continuing their frustrating habit of opening for a little while and then closing while the pandemic ebbed and flowed in the months after the summer season, it was starting to look like there might not have been ANY big budget blockbusters to enjoy before year’s end as heavyweights like Black Widow, No Time To Die and Dune pulled back to potentially more certain release slots into 2021 (with only WW84 remaining stubbornly in place for Christmas).  Then Paramount decided to throw us a bone, opting to release this post-apocalyptic horror comedy on-demand in October instead, thus giving me the perfect little present to tie me over during the darkening days of autumn. The end result was a stone-cold gem that came out of nowhere to completely blow critics away, a spectacular sleeper hit that ultimately proved one of the year’s biggest and most brilliant surprises.  Director Michael Matthews may only have had South African indie thriller Five Fingers for Marseilles under his belt prior to this, but he proves he’s definitely a solid talent to watch in the future, crafting a fun and effective thrill-ride that, like all the best horror comedies, is consistently as funny as it is scary, sharing much of the same DNA as this particular mash-up genre’s classics like Tremors and Zombieland and standing up impressively well to such comparisons.  The story, penned by rising star Brian Duffield (who has TWO other entries on this list, Underwater and Spontaneous) and Matthew Robinson (The Invention of Lying, Dora & the Lost City of Gold), is also pretty ingenious and surprisingly original – a meteorite strike has unleashed weird mutagenic pathogens that warp various creepy crawly critters into gigantic monstrosities that have slaughter most of the world’s human population, leaving only a beleaguered, dwindling few to eke out a precarious living in underground colonies. Living in one such makeshift community is Joel Dawson (The Maze Runner’s Dylan O’Brien), a smart and likeable geek who really isn’t very adventurous, is extremely awkward and uncoordinated, and has a problem with freezing if threatened … which makes it all the more inexplicable when he decides, entirely against the advice of everyone he knows, to venture onto the surface so he can make the incredibly dangerous week-long trek to the neighbouring colony where his girlfriend Aimee (Iron Fist’s Jessica Henwick) has ended up.  Joel is, without a doubt, the best role that O’Brien has EVER had, a total dork who’s completely unsuited to this kind of adventure and, in the real world, sure to be eaten alive in the first five minutes, but he’s also such a fantastically believable, fallible everyman that every one of us desperate, pathetic omega-males and females can instantly put ourselves in his place, making it elementarily easy to root for him.  He’s also hilariously funny, his winningly self-deprecating sass and pitch perfect talent for physical comedy making it all the more rewarding watching each gloriously anarchic life-and-death encounter mould him into the year’s most unlikely action hero.  Henwick, meanwhile, once again impresses in a well-written role where she’s able to make a big impression despite her decidedly short screen time, as do the legendary Michael Rooker and brilliant newcomer Ariana Greenblatt as Clyde and Minnow, the adorably jaded, seen-it-all-before pair of “professional survivors” Joel meets en-route, who teach him to survive on the surface.  The action is fast, frenetic and potently visceral, the impressively realistic digital creature effects bringing a motley crew of bloodthirsty beasties to suitably blood-curdling life for the film’s consistently terrifying set-pieces, while the world-building is intricately thought-out and skilfully executed.  Altogether, this was an absolute joy from start to finish, and a film I enthusiastically endorsed to everyone I knew was looking for something fun to enjoy during the frustrating lockdown nights-in.  One of the cinematic year’s best kept secrets then, and a compelling sign of things to come for its up-and-coming director.

7.  PARASITE – I’ve been a fan of master Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho ever since I stumbled across his deeply weird but also thoroughly brilliant breakthrough feature The Host, and it’s a love that’s deepened since thanks to truly magnificent sci-fi actioner Snowpiercer, so I was looking forward to his latest feature as much as any movie geek, but even I wasn’t prepared for just what a runaway juggernaut of a hit this one turned out to be, from the insane box office to all that award-season glory (especially that undeniable clean-sweep at the Oscars). I’ll just come out and say it, this film deserves it all.  It’s EASILY Bong’s best film to date (which is really saying something), a masterful social satire and jet black comedy that raises some genuinely intriguing questions before delivering deeply troubling answers.  Straddling the ever-widening gulf between a disaffected idle rich upper class and impoverished, struggling lower class in modern-day Seoul, it tells the story of the Kim family – father Ki-taek (Bong’s good luck charm, Song Kang-ho), mother Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), son Ki-woo (Train to Busan’s Choi Woo-shik) and daughter Ki-jung (The Silenced’s Park So-dam) – a poor family living in a run-down basement apartment who live hand-to-mouth in minimum wage jobs and can barely rub two pennies together, until they’re presented with an intriguing opportunity.  Through happy chance, Ki-woon is hired as an English tutor for Park Da-hye (Jung Ji-so), the daughter of a wealthy family, which offers him the chance to recommend Ki-jung as an art tutor to the Parks’ troubled young son, Da-song (Jung Hyeon-jun). Soon the rest of the Kims are getting in on the act, the kids contriving opportunities for their father to replace Mr Park’s chauffeur and their mother to oust the family’s long-serving housekeeper, Gook Moon-gwang (Lee Jung-eun), and before long their situation has improved dramatically.  But as they two families become more deeply entwined, cracks begin to show in their supposed blissful harmony as the natural prejudices of their respective classes start to take hold, and as events spiral out of control a terrible confrontation looms on the horizon.  This is social commentary at its most scathing, Bong drawing on personal experiences from his youth to inform the razor-sharp script (co-written by his production assistant Han Jin-won), while he weaves a palpable atmosphere of knife-edged tension throughout to add spice to the perfectly observed dark humour of the situation, all the while throwing intriguing twists and turns at us before suddenly dropping such a massive jaw-dropper of a gear-change that the film completely turns on its head to stunning effect.  The cast are all thoroughly astounding, Song once again dominating the film with a turn at once sloppy and dishevelled but also poignant and heartfelt, while there are particularly noteworthy turns from Lee Sun-kyun as the Parks’ self-absorbed patriarch Dong-ik and Choi Yeo-jeong (The Concubine) as his flighty, easily-led wife Choi Yeon-gyo, as well as a fantastically weird appearance in the latter half from Park Myung-hoon.  This is heady stuff, dangerously seductive even as it becomes increasingly uncomfortable viewing, so that even as the screws tighten and everything goes to hell it’s simply impossible to look away.  Bong Joon-ho really has surpassed himself this time, delivering an existential mind-scrambler that lingers long after the credits have rolled and might even have you questioning your place in society once you’ve thought about it some. It deserves every single award and every ounce of praise it’s been lavished with, and looks set to go down as one of the true cinematic greats of this new decade.  Trust me, if this was a purely critical best-of list it’d be RIGHT AT THE TOP …

6.  THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’ undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular series with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping great ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in a thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered.  Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who’s working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan.  The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here.  Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’.  They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story.  Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large.  After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

5.  MANK – it’s always nice when David Fincher, one of my TOP FIVE ALL TIME FAVOURITE DIRECTORS, drops a new movie, because it can be GUARANTEED to place good and high in my rundown for that year.  The man is a frickin’ GENIUS, a true master of the craft, genuinely one of the auteur’s auteurs.  I’ve NEVER seen him deliver a bad film – even a misfiring Fincher (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Alien 3) is still capable of creating GREAT CINEMA.  How? Why?  It’s because he genuinely LOVES the art form, it’s been his obsession all his life, and he’s spent every day of it becoming the best possible filmmaker he can be.  Who better to tell the story of the creation of one of the ULTIMATE cinematic masterpieces, then?  Benjamin Ross’ acclaimed biopic RKO 281 covered similar ground, presenting a compelling look into the making Citizen Kane, the timeless masterpiece of Hollywood’s ULTIMATE auteur, Orson Welles, but Fincher’s film is more interested in the original inspiration for the story, how it was written and, most importantly, the man who wrote it – Herman J. Mankiewicz, known to his friends as Mank. One of my favourite actors of all time, Gary Oldman, delivers yet another of his career best performances in the lead role, once a man of vision and incredible storytelling skill whose talents have largely been squandered through professional difficulties and personal vices, a burned out one-time great fallen on hard times whom Welles picks up out of the trash, dusts off and offers a chance to create something truly great again.  The only catch?  The subject of their film (albeit dressed up in the guise of fictional newspaper magnate Charles Foster Kane) is to be real-life publisher, politico and tycoon William Randolph Hurst (Charles Dance), once Mank’s friend and patron before they had a very public and messy falling out which partly led to his current circumstances.  As he toils away in seclusion on what is destined to become his true masterwork, flashbacks reveal to us the fascinating, moving and ultimately tragic tale of his rise and fall from grace in the movie business, set against the backdrop of one of the most tumultuous periods in American history.  Shooting a script that his own journalist and screenwriter father, Jack, crafted and then failed to bring to the screen himself before his death in 2003, Fincher has been working for almost a quarter century to make this film, and all that passion and drive is writ large on the screen – this is a glorious film ABOUT film, the art of it, the creation of it, and all the dirty little secrets of what the industry itself has always really been like, especially in that most glamorous and illusory of times.  The fact that Fincher shot in black and white and intentionally made it look like it was made in the early 1940s (the “golden age of the Silver Screen”, if you will) may seem like a gimmick, but instead it’s a very shrewd choice that expertly captures the gloss and moodiness of the age, almost looking like a contemporary companion piece to Kane itself, and it’s the perfect way to frame all the sharp-witted observation, subtly subversive character development and murky behind-the-scenes machinations that tell the story.  Oldman is in every way the star here, holding the screen with all the consummate skill and flair we’ve come to expect from him, but there’s no denying the uniformly excellent supporting cast are equal to the task here – Dance is at his regal, charismatic best as Hearst, while Amanda Seyfried is icily classy on the surface but mischievous and lovably grounded underneath as Hearst’s mistress, Marion Davies, who formed the basis for Kane’s most controversial character, Arliss Howard (Full Metal Jacket, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Moneyball) brings nuance and complexity to the role of MGM founder Louis B. Mayer, Tom Pelphrey (Banshee, Ozark) is understated but compelling as Mank’s younger screenwriter brother Joseph, and Lily Collins and Tuppence Middleton exude class and long-suffering stubbornness as the two main women in Mank’s life (his secretary and platonic muse, Rita Alexander, and his wife, Sara), while The Musketeers’ Tom Burke’s periodic but potent appearances as Orson Welles help to drive the story in the “present”.  Another Netflix release which I was (thankfully) able to catch on the big screen during one of the brief lulls between British lockdowns, this was a decidedly meta cinematic experience that perfectly encapsulated not only what is truly required for the creation of a screen epic, but also the latest pinnacle in the career of one of the greatest filmmakers working in the business today, powerful, stirring, intriguing and surprising in equal measure. Certainly it’s one of the most important films ABOUT so far film this century, but is it as good as Citizen Kane?  Boy, that’s a tough one …

4.  ENOLA HOLMES – ultimately, my top film for the autumn/winter movie season was also the film which finally topped my Netflix Original features list, as well as beating all other streaming offerings for the entire year (which is saying something, as you should know by now).  Had things been different, this would have been one of Warner Bros’ BIGGEST releases for the year in the cinema, of that I have no doubt, a surprise sleeper hit which would have taken the world by storm – as it is it’s STILL become a sensation, albeit in a much more mid-pandemic, lockdown home-viewing kind of way.  Before you start crying oh God no, not another Sherlock Holmes adaptation, this is a very different beast from either the Guy Ritchie take or the modernized BBC show, instead side-lining the great literary sleuth in favour of a delicious new AU version, based on The Case of the Missing Marquess, the first novel in the Enola Holmes Mysteries literary series from American YA author Nancy Springer.  Positing that Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) and his elder brother Mycroft (Sam Claflin) had an equally ingenious and precocious baby sister, the film introduces us to Enola (Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown), who’s been raised at home by their strong-willed mother Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter) to be just as intelligent, well-read and intellectually skilled as her far more advantageously masculine elder siblings.  Then, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Enola awakens to find her mother has vanished, putting her in a pretty pickle since this leaves her a ward of Mycroft, a self-absorbed social peacock who finds her to be wilfully free-spirited and completely ill equipped to face the world, concluding that the only solution is sending her to boarding school where she’ll learn to become a proper lady.  Needless to say she’s horrified by the prospect, deciding to run away and search for her mother instead … this is about as perfect a family adventure film as you could wish for, following a vital, capable and compelling teen detective-in-the-making as she embarks on her very first investigation, as well as winding up tangled in a second to boot involving a young runaway noble, Viscount Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether (Medici’s Louis Partridge), and the film is a breezy, swift-paced and rewardingly entertaining romp that feels like a welcome breath of fresh air for a literary property which, beloved as it may be, has been adapted to death over the years.  Enola Holmes a brilliant young hero who’s perfectly crafted to carry the franchise forward in fresh new directions, and Brown brings her to life with effervescent charm, boisterous energy and mischievous irreverence that are entirely irresistible; Cavill and Claflin, meanwhile, are perfectly cast as the two very different brothers – this Sherlock is much less louche and world-weary than most previous versions, still razor sharp and intellectually restless but with a comfortable ease and a youthful spring in his step that perfectly suits the actor, while Mycroft is as superior and arrogant as ever, a preening arse we derive huge enjoyment watching Enola consistently get the best of; Bonham Carter doesn’t get a lot of screen-time but as we’d expect she does a lot with what she has to make the practical, eccentric and unapologetically modern Eudoria thoroughly memorable, while Partridge is carefree and likeable as the naïve but irresistible Tewkesbury, and there are strong supporting turns from Frances de la Tour as his stately grandmother, the Dowager, Susie Wokoma (Crazyhead, Truth Seekers) as Emily, a feisty suffragette who runs a jujitsu studio, Burn Gorman as dastardly thug-for-hire Linthorn, and Four Lions’ Adeel Akhtar as a particularly scuzzy Inspector Lestrade.  Seasoned TV director Harry Bradbeer (Fleabag, Killing Eve) makes his feature debut with an impressive splash, unfolding the action at a brisk pace while keeping the narrative firmly focused on an intricate mystery plot that throws in plenty of ingenious twists and turns before a suitably atmospheric climax and pleasing denouement which nonetheless artfully sets up more to come in the future, while screenwriter Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, The Scouting Book for Boys, Wonder) delivers strong character work and liberally peppers the dialogue with a veritable cavalcade of witty zingers.  Boisterous, compelling, amusing, affecting and exciting in equal measure, this is a spirited and appealing slice of cinematic escapism that flatters its viewers and never talks down to them, a perfect little period adventure for a cosy Sunday afternoon.  Obviously there’s plenty of potential for more, and with further books to adapt there’s more than enough material for a pile of sequels – Neflix would be barmy indeed to turn their nose up at this opportunity …

3.  1917 – it’s a rare thing for a film to leave me truly shell-shocked by its sheer awesomeness, for me to walk out of a cinema in a genuine daze, unable to talk or even really think about much of anything for a few hours because I’m simply marvelling at what I’ve just witnessed.  Needless to say, when I do find a film like that (Fight Club, Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road) it usually earns a place very close to my heart indeed.  The latest tour-de-force from Sam Mendes is one of those films – an epic World War I thriller that plays out ENTIRELY in one shot, which doesn’t simply feel like a glorified gimmick or stunt but instead is a genuine MASTERPIECE of film, a mesmerising journey of emotion and imagination in a shockingly real environment that’s impossible to tear your eyes away from.  Sure, Mendes has impressed us before – his first film, American Beauty, is a GREAT movie, one of the most impressive feature debuts of the 2000s, while Skyfall is, in my opinion, quite simply THE BEST BOND FILM EVER MADE – but this is in a whole other league.  It’s an astounding achievement, made all the more impressive when you realise that there’s very little trickery at play here, no clever digital magic (just some augmentation here and there), it’s all real locations and sets, filmed in long, elaborately choreographed takes blended together with clever edits to make it as seamless as possible – it’s not the first film to try to do this (remember Birdman? Bushwick?), but I’ve never seen it done better, or with greater skill. But it’s not just a clever cinematic exercise, there’s a genuine story here, told with guts and urgency, and populated by real flesh and blood characters – the heart of the film is True History of the Kelly Gang’s George MacKay and Dean Chapman (probably best known as Tommen Baratheon in Game of Thrones) as Lance Corporals Will Schofield and Tom Blake, the two young tommies sent out across enemy territory on a desperate mission to stop a British regiment from rushing headlong into a German trap (Tom himself has a personal stake in this because his brother is an officer in the attack).  They’re a likeable pair, very human and relatable throughout, brave and true but never so overtly heroic that they stretch credibility, so when tragedy strikes along the way it’s particularly devastating; both deliver exceptional performances that effortlessly carry us through the film, and they’re given sterling support from a selection of top-drawer British talent, from Sherlock stars Andrew Scott and Benedict Cumberbatch to Mark Strong and Colin Firth, each delivering magnificently in small but potent cameos.  That said, the cinematography and art department are the BIGGEST stars here, masterful veteran DOP Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Blade Runner 2049 and pretty much the Coen Brothers’ entire back catalogue among MANY others) making every frame sing with beauty, horror, tension or tragedy as the need arises, and the environments are SO REAL it feels less like production design than that someone simply sent the cast and crew back in time to film in the real Northern France circa 1917 – from a nightmarish trek across No Man’s Land to a desperate chase through a ruined French village lit only by dancing flare-light in the darkness before dawn, every scene is utterly immersive and simply STUNNING.  I don’t think it’s possible for Mendes to make a film better than this, but I sure hope he gives it a go all the same.  Either way, this was the most incredible, exhausting, truly AWESOME experience I had at the cinema all year – it’s a film that DESERVES to be seen on the big screen, and I feel truly sorry for those who missed the chance …

2.  BIRDS OF PREY & THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN – the only reason 1917 isn’t at number two is because Warner Bros.’ cinematic DC Extended Universe project FINALLY got round to bringing my favourite DC Comics title to the big screen.  It was been the biggest pleasure of my cinematic year getting to see my top DC superheroines brought to life on the big screen, and it was done in high style, in my opinion THE BEST of the DCEU films to date (yup, I loved it EVEN MORE than the Wonder Woman movies).  It was also great seeing Harley Quinn return after her show-stealing turn in David Ayer’s clunky but ultimately still hugely enjoyable Suicide Squad, better still that they got her SPOT ON this time – this is the Harley I’ve always loved in the comics, unpredictable, irreverent and entirely without regard for what anyone else thinks of her, as well as one talented psychiatrist.  Margot Robbie once more excels in the role she was basically BORN to play, clearly relishing the chance to finally do Harley TRUE justice, and she’s a total riot from start to finish, infectiously lovable no matter what crazy, sometimes downright REPRIHENSIBLE antics she gets up to.  Needless to say she’s the nominal star here, her latest ill-advised adventure driving the story – finally done with the Joker and itching to make her emancipation official, Harley publicly announces their breakup by blowing up Ace Chemicals (their love spot, basically), inadvertently painting a target on her back in the process since she’s no longer under the assumed protection of Gotham’s feared Clown Prince of Crime – but that doesn’t mean she eclipses the other main players the movie’s REALLY supposed to be about.  Each member of the Birds of Prey is beautifully written and brought to vivid, arse-kicking life by what had to be 2020’s most exciting cast – Helena Bertinelli, the Huntress, is the perfect character for Mary Elizabeth Winstead to finally pay off on that action hero potential she showed in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but this is a MUCH more enjoyable role outside of the fight choreography because while Helena may be a world-class dark avenger, socially she’s a total dork, which just makes her thoroughly adorable; Rosie Perez is similarly perfect casting as Renee Montoya, the uncompromising pint-sized Gotham PD detective who kicks against the corrupt system no matter what kind of trouble it gets her into, and just gets angrier all the time, paradoxically making us like her even more; and then there’s the film’s major controversy, at least as far as the fans are concerned, namely one Cassandra Cain.  Sure, this take is VERY different from the comics’ version (a nearly mute master assassin who went on to become the second woman to wear the mask of Batgirl before assuming her own crime-fighting mantle as Black Bat and now Orphan), but personally I like to think this is simply Cass at THE VERY START of her origin story, leaving plenty of time for her to discover her warrior origins when the DCEU finally gets around to introducing her mum, Lady Shiva (personally I want Michelle Yeoh to play her, but that’s just me) – anyways, here she’s a skilled child pickpocket whose latest theft inadvertently sets off the larger central plot, and newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a fantastic pre-teen irreverence and spiky charm to the role, beautifully playing against Robbie’s mercurial energy.  My favourite here BY FAR, however, is Dinah Lance, aka the Black Canary (not only my favourite Bird of Prey but my very favourite DC superheroine PERIOD), the choice of up-and-comer Jurnee Smollet-Bell (Friday Night Lights, Underground) proving to be the film’s most inspired casting – a club singer with the metahuman ability to emit piercing supersonic screams, she’s also a ferocious martial artist (in the comics she’s one of the very best fighters IN THE WORLD), as well as a wonderfully pure soul you just can’t help loving, and it made me SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY that they got my Canary EXACTLY RIGHT.  Altogether they’re a fantastic bunch of badass ladies, basically my perfect superhero team, and the way they’re all brought together (along with Harley, of course) is beautifully thought out and perfectly executed … they’ve also got one hell of a threat to overcome, namely Gotham crime boss Roman Sionis, the Black Mask, one of the Joker’s chief rivals – Ewan McGregor brings his A-game in a frustratingly rare villainous turn (my number one bad guy for the movie year), a monstrously narcissistic, woman-hating control freak with a penchant for peeling off the faces of those who displease him, sharing some exquisitely creepy chemistry with Chris Messina (The Mindy Project) as Sionis’ nihilistic lieutenant Victor Zsasz.  This is about as good as superhero cinema gets, a perfect example of the sheer brilliance you get when you switch up the formula to create something new, an ultra-violent, unapologetically R-rated middle finger to the classic tropes, a fantastic black comedy thrill ride that’s got to be the most full-on feminist blockbuster ever made – it’s helmed by a woman (Dead Pigs director Cathy Yan), written by a woman (Bumblebee’s Christina Hodson), produced by more women and ABOUT a bunch of badass women magnificently triumphing over toxic masculinity in all its forms.  It’s also simply BRILLIANT – the cast are all clearly having a blast, the action sequences are first rate (the spectacular GCPD evidence room fight in which Harley gets to REALLY cut loose is the undisputable highlight), it has a gleefully anarchic sense of humour and is simply BURSTING with phenomenal homages, references and in-jokes for the fans (Bruce the hyena! Stuffed beaver! Roller derby!).  It’s also got a killer soundtrack, populated almost exclusively by numbers from female artists.  Altogether, then, this is the VERY BEST the DCEU has to offer to date, and VERY NEARLY my absolute FAVOURITE film of 2020.  Give it all the love you can, it sure as hell deserves it.

1.  TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly saved our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that my ultimate top-spot winner FOR THE WHOLE YEAR was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August and ultimately taking the bite at the box office because of the still shaky atmosphere), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with.  I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the first reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night-out big screen EXPERIENCE since March.  Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT.  Still with us?  Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who was ALMOST the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s Himesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine.  The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even if that amazing new teaser trailer wasn’t making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic.  As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual triumph and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some absolutely mesmerising visuals.  Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he had good reason, since he was working on his dream project at the time, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his collaborations with Ryan Coogler Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as career-best work on The Mandalorian) is a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence this film is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven.  As a work of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that proved truly unbeatable in 2020 …

[descendantofthesparrow]

Encore - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 23 - finishing touches

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You hummed around your fork as the creamy buttercream hit your tongue, looking down at your lap that held your aunt's tablet as you looked over the concept art your aunt had made for your wedding cake.

They ranged from sheet cakes with black and red swirling designs to four-tiered cakes with black and silver designs with red roses decorating the top and bottom tiers.

“these are all so pretty, I have no clue which one to choose” you sighed, setting down the fork next to the crumbs of your once existing sample cake, you and Harry had decided on the flavors a bit ago, chocolate raspberry truffle cake with raspberry glaze and chocolate buttercream and angel food with light vanilla buttercream.

Tonks, your aunt, laughed and held her hand out for the tablet, you leaning over with it and placing it in her hand “that’s no problem if you can't decide right now, there's no rush since your wedding isn’t till…have you decided when you’ll get married?” you paused at her question and shrugged, you honestly didn’t remember if you and Harry had decided on a date, almost everything was ready and set.

The place, the décor, the flowers, the bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bridesmaids, and groomsmen all chosen, their clothes and accessories ready to be of use. the flower girls were chosen and their clothes ready, the place where you would have the reception at was chosen, the food at the reception was chosen, who was going to marry you and Harry (FG offered to marry the two of you, being the one to originally separate you she wanted to officially bind you together as an apology), who was going to give you away (your aunt), the archway you were going to be married under was designed, Evie said your dress and Harrys suit was ready, the guest list was long since completed, all that was left to do was chose the cake design and decide the time and day to get married really.

“not sure yet, I’ll ask Harry the next time we talk about wedding stuff” you smiled as Tonks gave you a grin and flipped through her cake designs again.

“im sure you’ll pick the best day, now pick a cake” she slid the tablet back over to you. You picked it up and scrolled through the designs again.

You finally decided on the four-tiered cake with white fondant and silver piping designs, with black borders and red roses swirling from the top to the bottom. “great choice, now I think you have a final dress fitting to get to~” Tonks teased, standing to give you a hug and waving you off as you walked into the back to go through a portal to the descendant's universe.

You stuck your key into the storage room door lock and turned it, the portal opening behind the closed door. You swung it open and stepped into the shimmering light portal.

A moment later you stepped out into Evie's starter castle, calling out to her to let her know you were there “Evie!! Im here!” you heard her call back to you from the greenhouse turned office and you made your way over to her. “so I heard that my dress is ready?” Evie spun in her chair, facing away from the light purple dress she was working on, and nodded with a bright grin.

“All ready! Harry's suit is done too but I’ll have him come by later, try it on!” she dashed over to one of her movable dress wracks and plucked a gorgeous white dress with billowy sheen sleeves, a plunging sweetheart neckline, and a long sheer train that flowed from the back. “here you go! Now go go! I want to see the finished product on you!” she squealed, jumping in excitement as you took the dress and went to go change behind the changing screen Evie had installed a while ago for her costumers that came personally to her office.

It took a minute or two to get into the dress, with all the fabric but it was pretty easy to figure out how to put it on. Finally, you zipped up the back and picked up the skirt, and stepped out from behind the changing screen.

Evie gasped and clapped erratically “O M G it's perfect~!!! You look so amazing!!!” you let out a small laugh and let Evie lead you to her standing mirror, gasping at your reflection.

(yes im showing the design again im so damn proud of this dress i want it for my own wedding if i ever have one)

It was exactly the way you had designed it, from the small gems decorating your neckline to the white sapphire waist overlay “Evie, it's perfect” your voice cracked, pure happiness overwhelming you “it’s exactly what I wanted, and dreamed of”

“thank you so much for trusting me with it (y/n), and it's beautiful because you designed it too, you have an amazing eye for fashion” Evie giggled, holding onto your shoulders and smiling at you in the reflection of the mirror. “you are going to take Harry's breath away on your wedding day”

You laughed again, wiping the tears from your eyes and turning, wrapping your arms around Evie and hugging her tightly “thank you so much Evie” she hummed and hugged you back.

“you’re welcome (y/n), it’s the least I could do for all I've done” you raised your brow and leaned back, about to ask her what she meant before you remembered she had helped Mal kidnap you to have FG transport you back to your world.

“Still, thank you” you patted her arm, twirling back around and admiring the dress again. “I love it so much.”

“im glad” Evie sang, walking back over to her desk and continuing on the dress she had paused working on when you walked “so is everything almost done?”

“yep” you chirped, spinning and grinning to yourself as the skirt and train flared around you. “it’s all done actually, all that’s left is for Harry to try on his suit and for us to pick a day and time”

“oh, the archway is finished?” Evie asked, looking over her shoulder at you. The archway that you and Harry would be married under would be installed on your new ship for your wedding, but you and Harry had gone through a billion designs before finding the perfect one, and it had just been finished building and all it needed were its white and red roses decorating the main top boards.

“yep, Harry and I approved the final work two nights ago, we’re basically ready to get married at any point now” you turned and walked back over to the changing screen, unzipping the dress and letting it fall down your arms. “again, just need to pick a day”

Evie clapped her hands in glee “oooh I so excited, honestly, I think im more excited for this than I am Mal and Ben's wedding” you laughed loudly at that.

“Really?” you tilted your head out of the screen, raising your brow at Evie “why?”

“I don’t know” Evie sighed “something about it being more…private? And it’s really just going to be personal friends and family with some extra people, right? it just feels a bit more intimate than their wedding which is going to be broadcasted across Auradon”

You hummed, yeah you were glad you didn’t have to deal with all that for your wedding, and your wedding, hopefully, also would have Carlos actually there, he had mentioned that the day of Mal and Bens wedding was the day of his very important-you can't miss it or you’ll fail the entire year-finals test for veterinary school.

Ben and Mal had tried to reschedule their wedding so Carlos could attend but unfortunately, everything was all set and both were unable to move the date. They promised they would have either Jay or Doug record everything for him so he could at least see the wedding “personally” instead of on the news, he would be there for the reception but he would be missing the ceremony.

“what month are you thinking for it?” Evie wondered aloud, the hum of her sewing machine overpowering her voice a bit.

“im thinking either late spring or early summer? So May or June. I don’t want it to be cold as all hell but I don’t want it to be so warm everyone's sweating?” you shrugged on your shirt and zipped up your boots, stepping back out into the main area of Evie’s office with your dress in your arms “honestly I dunno, I’ll talk to Harry tonight about it, we're having dinner at my place.”

Evie nodded at that and stood, taking your dress and hanging it back up on her rack. “awesome, welp, we’re all done here! So” she waved her hands at you as if casting a spell “why don’t you get back to…whatever you were doing or needed to do after you were done with this” you laughed and nodded, spinning on your heel and walking out of Evie's office, waving her goodbye as you stepped out into her kitchen.

“kay, bye Evie!”

“bye!”

-

A couple of hours later and you were in your kitchen stirring up the mashed potatoes as Harry checked on the tri-tip. “think it's ready yet?” Harry turned to you, nodding his head at the oven.

“just check it with the meat thermometer, if it's 145 degrees it's ready” Harry nodded, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the tri-tip, sticking the meat thermometer in, and grinning.

“145, we’re ready” you nodded and turned off the heat for the gravy, and uncovered the cheese biscuits.

“Okay, ill cut it up and you can take the veggies out of the microwave and pour ‘em in the bowl thing”

You grabbed a carving knife and a large fork, transferring the tri-tip to a cutting board and slicing it up. You worked in comfortable silence to finish your prep for dinner, the only heard was your knife against the meat and cutting board and the soft music playing on Harry’s Bluetooth.

“ready!” Harry called, getting out two plates and setting them on the counter, walking over to you and kissing your cheek “thank yeh for helping me make this darling”

“you’re welcome Harry” you hummed, setting down the knife and fork and walking around Harry to get to the plates “plate up! And let's eat!”

After filling your plates with tri-tip, mashed potatoes and gravy, cheese biscuits, and corn, your dinner was ready to eat. You and Harry sat down at the counter/kitchen window and clinked your sodas before digging in, Harry dancing in his seat a bit as he bit into his food.

“good?” Harry just hummed happily, and nodded, picking up his biscuit and bobbing his head as he bit into it. “good.” You laughed slightly and dug into your own food, humming as you bit into the tri-tip “good job on the tri-tip, it’s fucking bomb” Harry grinned and his ears turned red.

“Thank yeh, Uma taught me how ta season steak a bit after the barrier came down.” You laughed again and pulled out your phone to text Uma.

“well she's a damn good teacher, it’s fucking bomb” you sent a quick text to Uma telling her that she needed to teach harry more cooking stuff and she sent back a wink and a thumbs up.

“soooo” you and Harry spoke in unison, stopping to look at each other and laughing “okay okay” you waved your hands around “me first” Harry laughed a bit and nodded, leaning on his fist and watching you “so, twice today I've been asked when we’re getting married and-I realized I don’t remember if we talked about it, like, at all” Harry snorted.

“aye, Evie, Uma, an’ CJ asked meh the same thing, and yeah we’ve…never talked about when we want ta get married” you and Harry shared an ‘oh shit’ smile and you shook your head.

“well, when Evie asked me about it the first thought that came to my head was early summer or late spring, so like, May or June?” harry hummed and tapped the counter with his fingers.

“huh, May actually sounds good, um, weekend or weekday?” you lifted your feet and rested them on the sideways beams of Harry's stool.

“mmm, weekend? Mostly everyone will be free on the weekends” Harry nodded, and took another bite of mashed potatoes “maybe a Saturday?”

“sounds good” Harry mumbled through his food, swallowing it and taking out his phone, opening his calendar and scrolling up to May “um, so we have the 1st, 8th, 15th,22nd, and the 29th for Saturday’s”

You leaned closer to Harry and set your chin on his shoulder, examining the calendar on his phone “how bout the 22nd? That way it’s not too soon for anyone's schedule and not the direct end of the month” Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.

“that’s perfect, May 22nd it is, that’s when we'll get married” Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead “I can't wait for that day, my love”

“I can't wait either, I tried on my finished dress today and I just wanted to show you immediately, it's so dang pretty~!” you squealed, grinning as Harry chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“and I can't wait ta see you wearing it, I can’t wait ta see yeh walk down the aisle towards me and I can't wait ta call yeh meh wife” you forced down the burning in your nose and eyes and wrapped your arms around Harry, burying your face in his shoulder. “and I can't wait to call you my husband, and love you for the rest of my life” Harry hugged you back tightly, pulling you into his lap and pressing his cheek to the side of your head.

“I love you so much (y/n)”

“I love you too Harry”

-

“finally! I was wondering when you two were going to pick a date, I've kept my calendar open just in case you two decided to say ‘fuck it’ and get married on a whim.” Uma waved her hands about as she ranted, and you hid your smile behind your glass and took a sip of your (drink)

“Yeah, guess we can also finally print those invitations now too” Uma hummed at that and set her cup down, tilting her head at you.

“well, the guest list is all done, right? So it won't be that much to do” you shook your head and took another sip of your (drink).

“Nope, just the design, and then printing, and everything will be ready to go, Harry and I already called Ben about using his private docks for the wedding because that’s where our ship is and he’s all for it” Uma nodded, moving forward on the table and resting her chin in her palm.

“so, next month, you and Harry get married~” you giggled in excitement and danced in your seat a bit.

“yep, hard to believe it's been almost a year since we got engaged, I feel like it's only been a month” you wished wistfully, a dreamy smile on your face “when I arrived on the isle, I never thought that Harry and I would even meet, then all of a sudden I was a part of your crew.” You and Uma shared a reminiscent smile, it had happened oh so long ago, all the way back in 2017 after D2 had released, and now it was 2021 and you were engaged to Harry freaking Hook, Uma was one of your best friends, Gil the other best friend, and you could travel from your world to the descendant's world.

It was like a dream come true, and if it was just a dream?

You hoped you would never wake up.

-end of part 23-

I know these wedding planning parts are lowkey kinda boring but really im just trying to set up the wedding part(s) (if it seems like im dragging everything out pls tell me, I don’t want to bore yall)XD which is soon! It'll probably be posted on May 22nd and considering I've been posting like, once a month (im sorry lol), the next chapter may possibly be the wedding chapter but IDK~!!! But anyway thank you all for reading my dumb Harry Hook x reader that I started back in 2018 so it been like, more than two years since I posted the first part and for some reason yall liked it and asked for more??? Which like, my writing fucking sucked back then, so why the fuck did yall like it? XD

Anyway, just saying again that I will be making rewrites of part of your world and reprise, encore I’ll leave alone since I think it has okay writing, I might re-edit the first couple parts if I cringe enough at em but otherwise, encore will be left alone while the first two parts of the series will get rewritten. I will leave the original versions up but again, new versions coming after I finish encore.

Thank you! - R.Sparrow

(oh! also I designed the invitations~

pretty~ okay im done!)

permtaglist

 @queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license​ @verboetoperee​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @imtryingthisout​ @rintheemolion​ 

@jatp-rules-my-life​

[orphicpath]

Dossier: Cullen Rutherford

Name: Cullen Rutherford

Gender: Cismale

Age: 30

Birth Date: 9:11 Dragon 

Languages Spoken &/or Read: Common Tongue

Ethnicity: Human

Nationality: Frelden

Birthplace: Honnleath, Ferelden. 

Current Residence: Verse Dependent

Allegiances: 

Templar Order ( Former)

The Inquisition

Faceclaim? TBD

Height: 6′0″

Eyes: Golden Brown

Hair: Blond

Body Type: Muscular 

Distinguishing Marks: None

Tattoos: None

Piercings: None

Scars: Vertical scar on his lip.

Physical Disabilities/Illness?:

Recovering Lyrium Addict.

Migrains

Dizzy spells

Occasional Nausea 

Mental Disabilities/Illness?: 

PTSD

Survivor’s Guilt.

Medications: None. 

Medical Aids/Equipment: None.

Allergies:  None

Drinker? Very Rarely

Smoker? No. 

Drug use? Lyrium Use ( verse dependant )

Alignment: Lawful Good.

Temperament: Choleric

Vice: Self Sacrificial

Virtue: Justice

Tarot: The Heirophant

Core personality Traits:

Positive traits:

Fair

Honorable

Compassionate

Dutiful 

Diligent

Kind

Negative Traits

Wrathful

Brash

Judgemental

Low self worth

Absolute

Family

Unnamed Parents - Deceased

Mia Rutherford - Older Sister - Alive 

Branson Rutherford - Younger Brother - Alive

Rosalie Rutherford - Younger Sister - Alive 

Marital Status: Single

Sexual Orientation: Demi + Bisexual

Romantic Orientation: Demi + Biromantic

Are they Open to?

One night Stands? No. 

Friends with Benefits? No

Hateships? Yes

Advance Sword and Shield techniques

Expert Tactician 

Cancelling out magic

Born in the Fereldan village of Honnleath, Cullen was the second eldest child of four. He was eight years old when he told his brother and sisters that he would become a Templar. Though his siblings took the proclamation playfully, Cullen's intentions did not waver. He started visiting the local chantry in Honnleath, asking the templars there to teach him anything they could. Honnleath had only a few templars, but they humored the boy and taught him basic sword techniques.

From a young age, Cullen had a strong desire to enter a profession that helped people, and he refused to be swayed from the path he had chosen. Despite his siblings' initial teasing, Mia became Cullen's greatest supporter, insisting that the others help Cullen train. When he was thirteen years old, a visiting knight-captain took notice of Cullen's hard work and offered him the chance of formal training. His parents agreed to the request, as the Templar Order was known to be a respectable and honorable profession, and they wanted to give their son the opportunity to have a life that would make him happy.

While not the youngest nor the most prepared of recruits, Cullen found that the training was everything that he had imagined it would be and quickly caught up to his peers, matching their expertise. When the time came to take his final vows at the age of eighteen, Cullen was eager to pledge his life in service to the Maker and take the lyrium that would bind him to the Order. He finally achieved his childhood dream to become a Templar when he was assigned to the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold, under Knight-Commander Greagoir.

When the Blight came over the land, Cullen's family was forced to flee to South Reach. His mother and father did not survive.

TBD

General Tag 

Answered Asks 

Closed Threads 

Desires

Headcanons 

Musings

Open Starters

Visage

[kjack89]

Personal Gain (Chapter 6/6)

Sorry this is so late! Life got crazy. But hey, better late than never.

Modern magic AU, developing E/R and Courferre. Read Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here and Chapter 5 here (or catch up on AO3).

The knock on the door was quiet, almost cautious, and Courfeyrac called out, “Come in!”

The door creaked open and Combeferre poked his head in. “Dare I ask what’s going on?” he asked mildly, stepping inside after he saw that Courfeyrac was alone.

“Well, for starters, it turns out that Enjolras and Grantaire didn’t need any magical help getting together, seeing as how they’ve been dating for six months.”

Combeferre blinked. “Well,” he said, taking a few steps towards Courfeyrac. “That certainly explains a lot.”

“You think?” Courfeyrac asked dryly.

“So you came here to disable the spells?”

Courfeyrac shrugged. “Well, seeing as how the binding spell had the unfortunate side of effect of making Enjolras want to stay here instead of the apartment he and Grantaire got together…” He trailed off, smiling slightly at the look of surprise on Combeferre’s face. “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, too.”

Combeferre shook his head slowly. “Wow,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head slightly. “I...did not see that coming.”

Courfeyrac snorted. “Me neither,” he muttered. “Then again, seems there’s a lot that I haven’t seen coming these days.”

Combeferre eyed him warily. “That sounds ominous,” he said mildly. “Something on your mind?”

“You tell me,” Courfeyrac said, matching his tone and meeting his gaze evenly. “You’re the one who put a love potion in the Jäger.”

More emotions than Courfeyrac could possibly track flashed in rapid succession across Combeferre’s face, and Courfeyrac couldn’t quite stop his slightly smug smile as Combeferre opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to speak the denial he clearly wanted to. After a long moment of struggling, Combeferre swallowed, his expression neutral. “You didn’t get rid of the honesty spell,” he said finally.

Courfeyrac shrugged again. “I thought it might do us both some good to finally have to say it like it is,” he said. “And before you even start, you were the one preaching about consent before slipping me a love potion. What did you do, skim a little from the cauldron when I wasn’t looking?”

“Yes,” Combeferre said, not bothering to try to deny it this time.

Courfeyrac blinked, a little taken aback by how willingly he admitted it, even with the honesty spell. “And you put it in the Jäger.”

Again, Combeferre didn’t try to fight the lingering honesty spell. “Yes,” he said. “I put it in the Jäger.”

Courfeyrac bit back his immediate question, the why he had been holding back this entire time, because looking at Combeferre, standing not even two feet away from him, he knew why.

They both knew why.

Courfeyrac had been the one to say it, when he was explaining why he was doing this for Enjolras and Grantaire – because they would both be so happy with each other if they would just admit how they feel – but Combeferre had been the one to act on it.

And took a leaf out of Courfeyrac’s book to do so – rather literally.

So he managed to contain the grin he felt twitching at the corners of his mouth, glancing down at the floor for a moment before looking back at Combeferre. “And?”

“And what?” Combeferre asked, his brow furrowed. “And it didn’t work.”

Courfeyrac cocked his head slightly. “Who said that?”

Combeferre’s brow furrowed even further. “No one,” he said, “I just— You didn’t—”

He broke off, flushing slightly, and now Courfeyrac did grin. “What, didn’t jump you?” he asked cheerfully.

“Sure, if that’s how you want to word it,” Combeferre said sourly, something tightening in his expression before he looked pointedly away, and Courfeyrac’s stomach dropped as he realized Combeferre thought they were having a very different conversation than they were.

“No, I didn’t jump you,” he said quickly, “but—”

“Which means there weren’t feelings there,” Combeferre said flatly, still not meeting Courfeyrac’s eyes. “You said it yourself, a love potion doesn’t make someone feel a certain way, it just...amplifies feelings that are already there.”

“And you think that because I didn’t jump you, that there are no feelings there.”

Courfeyrac’s voice was incredulous, and Combeferre’s flush deepened. “Well, logically speaking—” he muttered, but Courfeyrac interrupted him.

“What part of my magic, of magic at all, has ever seemed logical to you?” he demanded.

Combeferre shook his head slowly but didn’t try to answer the question, instead looking at Courfeyrac, his expression unreadable. “So what are you saying?”

Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow. “I’m saying you miscalculated.”

Combeferre frowned. “I followed the instructions in the grimoire to the word—”

“There’s more to magic than just following instructions,” Courfeyrac said, exasperated. “It’s not a science experiment that you replicate with identical results every time!”

Combeferre’s scowl was firmly back in place. “Well then why don’t you tell me what I did wrong instead of lecturing me about it?” he snapped.

Courfeyrac couldn’t help himself – he barked a laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face before grinning at Combeferre. “You really are an idiot, you know that, right?”

“You said—”

“I know what I said,” Courfeyrac said.

Combeferre shook his head. “No, you said that the potion would fill the drinker with feelings of desire and possession, and—”

“Yeah, I know.”

Combeferre threw his hands up in frustration. “Ok, so then what did I miss?”

“You missed that I have spent every single day of the past few years pretending that I didn’t have feelings of desire and possession,” Courfeyrac said honest for the first time, and the spell had nothing to with it. Combeferre froze, staring at him. “You missed that I never needed a love potion for that. You think that I didn’t want to jump you after drinking that? Of course I did. But I’ve gotten really, really good at pretending that I don’t.”

Combeferre’s mouth opened and closed again as he gaped at Courfeyrac. After a long moment, he managed to pull himself together enough to croak, “Then why—”

“Because…” It was Courfeyrac’s turn to blush, just a little. “Because I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Combeferre stared at him, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well now who’s the idiot?” he asked.

In lieu of answering, Courfeyrac closed the space between them and kissed him.

For just a moment, Combeferre froze, but then he melted against him, kissing Courfeyrac back almost fiercely, his hand fisting in Courfeyrac’s shirt as if he could pull him closer. 

When they broke apart, neither man moved far, and Courfeyrac reached out to cup Combeferre’s cheek, tracing his thumb across the spray of barely visible freckles across his cheek. “I think we can probably agree we’re both idiots,” he said quietly.

Combeferre laughed before kissing Courfeyrac again. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But at least we figured it out eventually.”

“Yeah, and it only took three spells and two potions for us to figure it out.” He kissed Combeferre once more before taking a step back. “Speaking of, there’s one more thing I need to do.”

“Get rid of the honesty spell?” Combeferre asked.

Courfeyrac. “Ok, two things,” he said, bending down to pick the crystal up from where he had hidden it on the coffee table, blowing on it gently to neutralize the spell within. “And now just one thing.”

“And what can you possibly have to do that’s more important than, well, me?” Combeferre asked, but Courfeyrac wasn’t deterred by the innuendo.

“I owe someone an apology.”

----------

Courfeyrac waited a few days before he made his way to Enjolras and Grantaire’s new apartment, figuring both men could probably use a little time back together now that Courfeyrac had gotten rid of the spell that had driven them apart. 

Judging by the satisfied smile Grantaire wore when he answered the door, he had figured right.

“For you,” he said, using just a little magic to make a bouquet of flowers appear, and he presented them to Grantaire with a flourish.

“Flowers?” Grantaire asked mildly, taking the bouquet from Courfeyrac. “Have you been taking advice from Jehan?”

“Something like that,” Courfeyrac said. “Consider them an apology of sorts.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Grantaire asked, gesturing for Courfeyrac to come inside. 

Courfeyrac shrugged, glancing around the apartment. He was completely unsurprised to see the cat that used to live behind the Musain curled up on the couch, along with a perfect mismatch of items from Enjolras and Grantaire’s former apartments. “Well, you know,” he said, glancing back at Grantaire. “I probably should’ve figured it out sooner.”

Grantaire laughed lightly, taking the flowers into the kitchen. “Or maybe you don’t give Enjolras and I enough credit for keeping it a secret.”

Courfeyrac laughed as well, meandering over to the bookshelf, gratified to see pictures of Les Amis dotting the shelves, along with one selfie of Enjolras and Grantaire that he had never seen, Grantaire kissing Enjolras’s cheek as Enjolras grinned at the camera. He picked the frame off the shelf, smiling down at it. “I definitely didn’t give you two enough credit,” he said as Grantaire rooted around for something to put the flowers in.

Before he could say anything else, the front door banged open and Enjolras came inside, typing furiously on his phone. “They can’t rescind an election certification,” he muttered to himself, toeing his shoes off at the door without looking up. “Hey R, what do you—”

Courfeyrac cleared his throat and Enjolras looked up at him. “Oh, hey, Courf,” he said vaguely, looking back down at his phone before his head snapped up again, the blood draining from his face. “I mean, uh…”

Courfeyrac smirked. “Good to see you, too.”

Enjolras looked frantically around, clearly looking for Grantaire. “I, uh, I can explain.”

“No need,” Grantaire said, coming out of the kitchen with the flowers sticking out of what Courfeyrac was fairly certain was a hurricane glass. “Courfeyrac knows.”

“I was planning on telling you,” Enjolras said, a little desperately, and Courfeyrac grinned, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

“Are you telling that to me or to Grantaire?”

“Both,” Enjolras muttered, and Grantaire laughed, setting the makeshift vase on the coffee table before crossing over to Enjolras and kissing him lightly.

“Don’t worry, you’re forgiven,” he said, and Enjolras sighed in relief before immediately bristling.

“Hang on, what in hell do I need forgiving for?”

Courfeyrac coughed lightly. “Well, I just wanted to bring you the flowers,” he told Grantaire, “and now I’ll leave you both to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Enjolras muttered grumpily, though he was fighting back a smile as Grantaire kissed him again. “Are you and Combeferre still on for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Courfeyrac said, inching toward the door as Grantaire pulled Enjolras toward the couch. “And, uh, we have something to tell you tomorrow, too.”

Grantaire sat down on the couch and pulled Enjolras down with him. “Sure, sounds good,” Enjolras said distractedly, and Courfeyrac laughed before letting himself out, closing the door after him.

He made his way to the street and Combeferre straightened from where he had been leaning casually against the building, waiting for him. “Did they like the flowers?” he asked, leaning in to kiss Courfeyrac cheek in greeting.

Courfeyrac nodded. “I think so.”

They walked together for a moment before Combeferre glanced at him. “Did you put a spell on the flowers?”

“I am aghast that you think so poorly of me.” Combeferre just arched an eyebrow and Courfeyrac laughed. “Flowers don’t last forever,” he said. “Not worth wasting a spell on, though I did wind some ivy and yarrow in there, for love and healing – my version of an apology.”

“Ok, so you didn’t spell the flowers,” Combeferre said, undeterred. “But you did cast a spell.”

“Maybe,” Courfeyrac said with a grin, thinking of the small, nondescript stone he had slipped behind the picture frame on the bookshelf. “Just a little something.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Combeferre asked, mock-sternly, though he also couldn’t seem to stop himself from asking, “And what was this spell for?”

Courfeyrac took Combeferre’s hand, lacing their fingers together and lifting them to his mouth to press a kiss to Combeferre’s knuckles. “Happiness,” he said simply.

Combeferre’s smile softened. “Well, I can’t fault you for that. Just as long as you don’t try the same thing for us.”

“I think you and I have had more than enough magical interference for a lifetime,” Courfeyrac said. “Besides, we don’t need a spell to be happy.” He leaned in and kissed the corner of Combeferre’s mouth. “Now c’mon. Let’s go home.”

Together, they walked down the street, still hand in hand when, abruptly, Combeferre said, “You know, I don’t want to jinx it, but I do have to say it.”

“Say what?” Courfeyrac asked warily.

“I told you so.”

Courfeyrac glanced over at him, trying to place what, exactly, Combeferre was gloating about this time. Then it hit him. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

“You can’t use your magic for personal gain,” Combeferre said, a little smugly. “It never turns out the way you want it to.”

Courfeyrac nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. “Technically speaking, you used my magic for personal gain.”

Combeferre considered it and shrugged. “And it didn’t exactly work out the way I planned either, now did it?”

“No,” Courfeyrac agreed. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.”