#going from having lived a life with a truly atrocious work/life balance to a life that is fully and entirely his own

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

deeply enjoy that the novel can also be read as a commentary on the fallacy of information. we have zzs as the main narrator who adds to this nuance by being a former spymaster and leader of a bunch of proficient investigators. hes very intimate with the process of verification of information, and even his vast databank of knowledge and his abilities of filtering and sorting the "true" from the "fake" is tested throughout the novel through many instances and events. its especially interesting because he makes a major mistake, almost from the very start, that he resolves only after a very long time, and only after overcoming personal weaknesses. his personal weakness at recognizing truth vs decept reveals itself in the inability to meet personal events with a human perspective; he is basically functioning like a person with two lives, and most of the time, he at least acts as if he is regarding wkx, suspected master of ghosts, from the professional business grounds of the retired leader of shadows rather than from the perspective of a person with an adventurous life and wishes of his own. in this lies the danger to misinterpret and to refuse to confront what is truly going on. if zzs cant 'find' the "true reason" for the ghost master following his humble retired self, he is going to do his utmost to make up one (on the basis of his personal and professional experience with such situations), instead of considering at least once the admittedly unlikely chance that wkx might like him and is even deeply sincere about him. this doesnt signal anything less but that we, as the reader, should not irrevocably trust even the one person who is in most stories the most trustworthy; the main narrator. instead, we are advised to reserve us the right to doubt and think for ourself, to look critically upon even zzs, which only circles back to the novel's theme of the fallacy of information. it even lends to the novel's dialogue with the human right to form your own opinion and your own thoughts and come to your own conclusions, no matter how much they might diverge from norm or mainstream or traditions, and no matter how tempting it might be not to.

[mindofasupernova]

The Inventor Part 2

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Kaz

A corpse? That's what she wanted? Did she think that he just kept all the bodies of his deceased workers in his room? How the hell was he supposed to get his hands on the corpse of one of his poisoned informants?

One day after meeting the young inventor, Kaz had sent Inej to gather answers to the Y/LN Manor. And just as promised, the girl had already identified most of the compounds, but due to "careless and messy manipulation", clearly referring to Kaz's pouch, she had been unable to determine a specific substance that acted as a catalyst. Inej returned to the Slat with Y/N's message asking for a meeting and a request Kaz wasn't exactly expecting.

According to Y/N, it was of the utmost importance for her to examine the body if she hoped to pinpoint the missing compound not to mention it provided a perfect opportunity for Kaz to tell her about how the poison had captured his attention.

Inej had returned later than usual, smiling and carrying a small brown bag that wafted a sweet and delicious scent. When Kaz had raised his eyebrows in question, Inej had told him Y/N had given her some recently baked cookies. He grunted in response and kept working, but his mind kept drifting back to the cookie bag and what that small act meant.

Inej was cautious but he also knew that she always searched for kindness in people. That snack could have been simply just a gift but Kaz wouldn't have made it this far if he considered all people as kind-hearted. Y/N was a stranger, a rich stranger from the highest of ranks of society who probably didn't care if Barrel rats like him lived or not. Y/N hadn't asked for a favor nor did she need money, she just wanted to know, that unsettled Kaz more than he liked to admit.

He had spent the day gathering information about her, her personal life, hobbies, and all the rumors he could find. He had found absolutely nothing that could give him an insight into the girl's intentions, he had finished empty-handed with the information he already knew: she was the only daughter of one of the richest men in Ketterdam, the perfect personification of a wealthy royal daughter, an innocent and pious little thing that went to Church with her family. Kaz scoffed at that, the defying look she gave her at their secret rendezvous accompanied with her enthusiasm for carving a corpse open proved she was far from innocent.

No, until he had more facts he wouldn't let his guard down. And yet, a small part of him yearned for her actions to be good-intentioned. Stop, hope is a dangerous thing. He had already made the mistake of hoping when he was nine and look where it got him.

Kaz returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, huffing in annoyance, he started writing down orders to get a corpse for Y/N.

_______________

Y/N : One day after the meeting

Y/N was quietly sitting at her vanity, a soft smile adorned her face, gaze completely lost on her new device when Inej, soundlessly crept inside her bedroom.

After Kaz Brekker had left the shop near the Church of Barter, she no longer felt the giddy spark she had when she left her manor. She couldn't blame Mr. Zhang for telling Mr. Brekker about their association, he was an old jumpy man who wished no trouble upon no one. She had left all the concoctions that Mr. Zhang had order, but she didn't show him her latest joy, she no longer felt as excited.

This new invention she had come up with consisted of a music box. But it was no ordinary music box, far from it. Y/N had noticed how most of the music boxes got damaged with time when the metal rusted and the music no longer sounded like a melody but more like a haunted house. So, instead of depending on metal to play music, why not use water vapor. Yes, she had spent four days perfecting the pressure at which each piston released the water so it was a perfect copy of one of the melodies in the Komedie Brute. Four days making sure that the amount of heat the flame distributed was enough to transform the water into vapor but not so fast it was gone before the song ended. And now, here it was, a vapor-based music box with a decorative firebird in the center that literally caught fire, warming the water below.

Mind too caught up on the mechanics of her own work, that, when the Wraith materialized from the shadows behind her, Y/N sent a rain of screws and nuts toppling down the floor when Inej's hand landed on her shoulder.

Wide-eyed, Y/N turned around to face the apparition in her room. The Suli girl raised her hands, to show she intended no harm and in a kind voice spoke:

"I'm not here to hurt you. Kaz Brekker sent me to check up on your progress."

With a sigh of relief, Y/N straightened relaxed her posture. "Why, of course, should have assumed Mr. Brekker would send someone. Please, take a seat. " with a small smile, she gestured to a plush burgundy armchair.

"As promised, I have successfully identified most of the compounds. However, I fear identifying the catalyst agent won't be possible unless I conduct a thorough autopsy on the unfortunate victim. The needle I was given was in an atrocious condition, too many foreign compounds had already interacted with it." Y/N answered, finishing with a hopeful tone.

Inej nodded her head and responded, "I'll let Kaz know, thank you Marchioness Y/LN." Inej turned around, making a bee-line for the window.

"You must not be thinking of going out in this beastly weather. Please, stay until this horrendous downpour ceases." Y/N quickly called back, wrapping her silk shawl around her petite frame, as if the thought of stepping outside was enough to send a chill running down her spine.

Inej hesitated, directing a fleeting glance at the crying sky outside, she resumed to her previous seat.

"Would you like a piece of Cinamon-coated Pavlova? I guarantee you won't regret it, the caramelized peaches are sinfully appetizing!" and before the Suli girl could respond, Y/N was rushing out of her room, the dainty patter of her heels clicking down the stairs.

Her room was exactly what Inej had expected: luxurious and overly grand. But there was something about it that Inej couldn't quite place, her room was tidy to the extreme, all the expensive perfume bottles lined up, gaps between that appeared as if they had been measured with a ruler. Nothing in her room showed a preference or indication of what she truly liked, at first sight, the room would have seemed like the perfect fairytale but now, upon close observation, the room looked generic, hollow, and cold. The spy wondered if all the riches were worth living into a life as impersonal as hers.

Y/N returned, carrying a tray full of fancy desserts Inej couldn't even pronounce.

"The baker proclaims himself a master of crème brûlées. I prefer his fruit-stuffed truffles, though. Mouthwatering" Y/N commented, gingerly placing the tray on her small mahogany table.

Y/N waited for Inej to take a bite out of the coffee tiramisu, after the Suli girl let a soft hum of appreciation, Y/N smiled and questioned: "I hope I'm not being too invasive, but how did you manage to climb all the way to my window? There are no nooks where you could have possibly held onto, you must have an incredible balance to perform such a feat."

And that's how Inej told her about her life as an acrobat, proudly sharing brief glimpses to her past, seeing no harm in the girl next to her. Y/N was more than happy when Inej started talking, she was glad the bronzed-skinned girl didn't treat her with timid whispers afraid of offending her royal title. It felt nice to have a normal conversation, being able to share honest opinions instead fake smiles and condescending words at galas, afraid that if the wrong statement slipped they'll become the next party gossip.

____________________

The morning after, Inej returned bearing Mr. Brekker's message agreeing to a nightly meeting where she'll be able to examine the corpse.

Saying that Y/N was thrilled, was an understatement, apart from a chance to put her brain to good use, it gave her the perfect opportunity to try a device she had specifically designed for creating an alibi while she was sneaking outside at unlikely hours.

Y/N hated piano. Don't get her wrong, it wasn't the instrument, it was the music, her music. Because for an unknown reason, her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she tried to. She admired the focus and dedication of musicians, she really did, but her mind easily got distracted thinking about her latest reading material instead of focusing on the notes. So, she had created a system capable of pushing the tiles as if her own fingers played the music. She knew it was wrong to fool her parents in such a way but it gave her a perfect cover to go in secret missions her parents would never approve of.

Proper ladies don't get excited over knowledge, much less probe in repulsive matters such as corpses. Look at you, Y/N, what would future suitors think if they discover you all cheerful over someone´s murder? The scandal! Zia Francesca's reprimanding voice resonated inside Y/N´s head. But she could care less about what the whole Ketterdam thought about her, science was her passion, and she would abandon it until the day she died.

Already outside, a navy blue scarf wrapped around her head to shield her delicate features against unwanted attention, Y/N waited for Inej at their chosen meeting point.

The sly girl slipped into view, with a grace greater than the one of a feline, leaving the shadows as if she and the night were one. With a brief nod, Y/N followed the girl into the awaiting hands of darkness. Leading her towards the Barrel, a place where monsters lurked behind every corner impatiently waiting to pounce any minute. Nonetheless, Y/N felt ecstatic, warm excitement pulsing through her veins, a river waiting in anticipation to break the thin modest facade she kept up to let her curiosity resurface in search of enigmas to solve.

When they arrived at a place named "The Crow Club", Inej went to get Kaz and some "others" and told her to wait. Y/N observed the lively atmosphere, seeing customers from different countries around the world when her eyes landed on a familiar head with wild red curls.

"Mr. Van Eck?" Y/N questioned in disbelief, the boy perked up at the sound of his last name, locking eyes with the hooded girl.

Never would she have imagined finding Wylan Van Eck down in the Barrel. She was shocked, Wylan supposedly should be in a music school outside of Ketterdam. Both belonging to affluent families, Y/N had met Wylan Van Eck at several parties. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but she liked the quiet boy who shared the same look of misfortune Y/N had every time they were thrown into a classy social event. When his father had announced he was leaving to study abroad, Y/N was happy for him although she would miss being silently miserable together. But it appeared Wylan had been doing something far from studying, now sitting next to a tall Zemeni boy with his arm slung around his shoulder.

"Marchioness Y/N, I never imagined...W-What brings you here?" replied round-eyed Wylan, confusion, and astonishment written all over his features.

But before Y/N could respond, steps and the tapping of a cane interrupted their little meeting, Inej small silhouette trailing behind Mr. Brekker.

"So, you know Wylan?" he interrogated in that characteristic rasp, coffee eyes scrutinizing Y/N's form.

"Yes, Mr. Van Eck used to come to our social gatherings."

Wylan just nodded shyly while his long-limbed companion kept drowning shot like they were water.

Dirtyhands humphed in acknowledgment "Nice, know that we are all together let's go to...Jesper, I don't pay you to drink the bar dry. Get your ass down here and let's get moving so our dear inventor can examine the body, shall we?

"Wait, she is the contact you talked about?" the Zemeni, Jesper, questioned. Eyes going from Kaz Brekker to Y/N, as if this was some kind of joke.

"Wylan called her Marchioness? You asked for a royal's help?" Jesper asked, an incredulous mocking smile on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz?"

Mr. Brekker scowled at him and without another word turned around not even waiting for them to follow.

"Well, nice to meet you, my lady. The name's Jesper Fahey," he said, bowing down and kissing her hand, sending her a mischievous wink.

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fahey. And please, there's no need for formalities, just call me Y/N." she comforted, as they finally reached the others. Glancing at the rest while finishing her last statement, prompting the rest to call her by her first name.

________

Kaz

Y/N radiated waves of elation, her whole face lighting up at the thought of an adventure, a star amid the tumultuous dark waters of Ketterdam helping him find his way to the shore.

Kaz wore an amused expression at Y/N's amused gaze roaming the dirty streets of the Barrel, a new unknown world full of carnage and sins. She isn't fit for the Barrel thought Kaz, her eyes dancing in amusement at every little detail that caught her interest despite her efforts to put on a serious face and regal posture. She probably saw wonderous adventures while Kaz saw the Barrel for what it really was: a ravenous, savage beast waiting to swallow the weakest whole and drain the lives of the ones who survived its ghastly bites. And somehow the concept that she didn't belong in this world, his world, made Kaz's heart wrenched a little.

During their walk, Kaz shared the details about the latest killer on the loose and his dead informants, all the while, Y/N remained quiet, evaluating every one of his words.

When they arrived at an abandoned building, a single man was stationed outside, leaning on the tainted wall with a tired look in his eyes. Kaz nodded at the guard who gave him a set of keys and trotted out of sight. Kaz guided them inside, careful no prying eyes had followed them. Kaz turned on the lights, briefly disconcerting his companions, and pointed to a table with a big bulk covered by a dirty cloth.

"As you requested, the unfortunate victim" announced Kaz as Y/N placed a small suitcase she'd brought with her forensic equipment and tenderly pried the cloth covering the thing that once had been alive.

Y/N didn't bat an eyelash when she saw the corpse's face, not even when Jesper started gagging or when Inej turned around and started quietly mumbling prayers to her saints. Kaz focused on her face, the calm inquisitive look of a scientist, he had expected a gasp at least. Kaz was impressed by her cool analytical demeanor when a simple glimpse of the man was enough to send Kaz back to the ocean, rotting flesh beneath his fingertips. Kaz shuddered at the thought, forcing down the vomit rising in his throat.

"If you need an assistant, Jesper is willing to help" Kaz stated, stabilizing his voice so it wouldn't show his true feelings.

"What?! Me? Umm..no...I...Helping isn't a Jesper talent." Mr. Fahey said, a fearful look in his eyes, face white as a sheet. Kaz hoped he didn't look as terrified as him.

Y/N stopped her scan, looked up at the two boys, and with a small smile spoke: "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I'm certain I can handle it on my own."

Quickly discarding her coat and scarf, pushing back the sleeves of her rouge-colored blouse, and pulling long laboratory gloves over her hands along with a white apron over her head, she set up to work.

Kaz stared at her features, as she transformed into an eager forensic, light illuminating her face, falling in the right places giving her an otherwordly glow. Rebellious strands of hair framing her forehead, a pink hue staining her cheeks indicating her joyous state. The sight before him would have put any masterpiece to shame, Kaz wondered how she could stare at a corpse and find glee in such a morbid image. But Kaz liked it, the brilliant gleam her eyes portrayed, her childish joy at the promise of adventure.

The spell was broken when she started pulling out scalpels, syringes, and other items Dirtyhands couldn't bother to learn the name of. Pulling the flesh taught beneath her fingers, Y/N made a Y incision, skin splaying open.

Cold lifeless hands gripped Kaz's throat. his brother's icy whispers brushing his skin. He turned his head away and as if perceiving his discomfort, Y/N's bewitching doe eyes stared back at him.

"You can wait outside if you prefer to, I'll notify you when I'm done." her gentle voice reached and Kaz couldn't have been more grateful.

With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz limped towards the exit, Jesper, and Inej quickly following his movements.

--------

After Y/N finished, she eagerly started explaining her findings, a prideful gleam emanating from her.

"Well, Mr. Brekker I must admit this case is a peculiar one. The simplest ones always prove to be the most challenging."

"Here I thought that after years of fancy tea reunions you'd know the meaning of a vast number of words. I'll be sure to buy you a thesaurus." mocked Kaz, a wolfish smirk creeping onto his face.

The inventor frowned at his comment, racing her chin higher, and started her rant, thoughts racing to prove her point.

"Oh no, Mr. Brekker do not confuse simple and easy. Simple is straightforward, plain facts to the observer. Ordinary details are hard to pinpoint, effortlessly found everywhere, which makes it harder to find unique characteristics that could serve as means of identification since their nature is so elementary." Y/N spoke swiftly, pacing around the room, eyes never faltering from Kaz's.

"And that's exactly what happened in this case. As I had mentioned, my extraction wasn't entirely successful, for an essential reactant was missing. However, it wasn't the only reason why I insisted on examining the body, no, a very simple and ordinary substance appeared when I separated the poison: Helianthus annuus or more commonly known as sunflowers." Y/N paused glancing at their surprised faces, clearly pleased with their reactions, she continued, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

"You can imagine my surprise when I found sunflower pollen as the main component of the poisonous agent. I ran several more tests and the result remains the same, our killer is using these lovely flowers as a weapon. Now, back to the catalyst, the easy part of the equation. This component isn't as fastidious as the previous one, why, you may ask. Well, its vast majority consists of average materials but a small percentage of it contains alloys that are only produced in Ketterdam, that combined with the peculiar way they were fused, suggests a Grisha alkemi made this solution." Y/N concluded, grabbing a piece of paper and hastily writing before she handed it to Kaz.

"There are no signs of struggle, meaning either they knew the attacker or they were taken by surprise. A swift prick to the femoral artery, a clear pathway for the poison to reach the bloodstream, infecting the body within seconds."

"It shouldn't be very hard to find the alkemi. They aren't very popular and most of them are indentured. Here is the list of all the reactants, the specifics, and where I believe you might find them. " finished the girl, looking at the trio expectantly.

"If you don't mind, I have taken a sample to examine more carefully at my house. I'll try to find any details I might have overlooked."

Briskly reading the list, Kaz frowned and then pocketed the small scrap of paper. "First thing tomorrow morning, ask around for an alkemi who might have bought these materials. "

Kaz turned to look at his fellow crows, content with their nods of approval, grabbed his cane, and sauntered towards the door. Her chemistry knowledge was astounding, a marvelous domain of anatomy, and an even more gifted engineer from what he had heard. Hers was an indeed beautiful mind, not that he would ever tell her.

"Mr. Brekker?" her light voice shattered through the gloomy night. Kaz craned his neck, gaping back at her in question.

"Is there perhaps a place where I might be able to tidy myself up?" Y/N questioned, Kaz finally looking at her messy red-stained apron and her exposed arms displaying strokes of red all over them.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring the girl back to their home. "You can use the restroom back at the Slat." The girl had risked her reputation sneaking out on ill-advised affairs to help them, it was the least he could do.

"Thank you" Y/N replied as she carefully peeled her apron, attentive at not brushing her arms against her blouse.

___________

Once she had freshened up, Y/N stumbled upon the young Van Eck talking with a couple. The green-eyed girl was about Y/N's age, a generously carved complexion, holding the hand of a tall Fjerdan.

Y/N inclined her head as a form of salute, "I never pegged you for the rebellious type, Mr. Van Eck. I never thought you hated music lessons that much to run away." she told him in a joking tone.

"And I never thought you were the type to sneak out at ungodly hours just to play detective. " Wylan replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.

"Well, I suppose everyone has secrets."

"You must be Y/N, Inej told me you were the help Kaz so desperetly needed. I'm Nina, he's Matthias and well you already know Wylan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Inej had briefly mentioned them, she knew now that Nina loved food, maybe next time she'll bring those exquisite truffles she had so eagerly talked about. If there is a next time Y/N reminded herself, she desperately hoped so, but now that her work was done she wasn't so sure Kaz Brekker would ever seek her again.

"Well, you have saved me the introductions." Kaz sarcastically glowered at the green-eyed girl, Nina kept talking as if she hadn't heard him.

It was one thing for Kaz to admire her intelligence, it did not mean he trusted her, though. Pieces were still missing to the intricate puzzle she was and until that changed Kaz did not like the way she rapidly befriended his crows, her intentions were still blurry to Kaz, and even though he would never admit it he cared deeply about their well-being.

"You should stay a little longer, we could go for waffles as a way of thank you." prompted Nina.

"Your offer is very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I should be returning home." Y/N declined, grinning at Nina, blissful someone had invited her for waffles.

Kaz stared at her and wondered how many times someone had done something similar, not to thank her but rather to use her, so that such a simple gesture put her in a joyful state.

"Scared of what your parents may do if they found out the truth?" Kaz quipped once his crows had left the two of them alone. A teasing tone masking true concern.

"Terrified. Someone may notice I've been playing the same four songs for the last couple of hours, always missing the same notes every time and they might get ideas of checking up on me," she confessed, mischief coating her features.

"Good night, Mr. Brekker. I'm happy I could be of assistance. Please, let me know if you find your killer or if my experience is needed again."

Kaz just bowed, signaling for his Wraith to get Y/N back to her manor in one piece.

Both girls disappeared into the night, leaving Kaz pondering what the hell she had meant with playing the piano.

___________

Y/N

Almost two weeks had passed, no signs of Kaz and no visits from the Wraith, well not that she was aware of. Y/N caught herself glaring at no point in particular, she readjusted her expression and plastered a well-practiced look of keen interest, trying to focus on Lady Stathos' rant about the attractiveness of the Viscount of Chagny.

Y/N politely excused herself, with no intention of making a fool of herself if Lady Stathos posed a question related to her gossip.

Too busy drowning in her own sorrow, knowing that Kaz had probably captured the culprit and was happily celebrating his success and no longer needing Y/N's help, that she stumbled forward, barely catching herself when someone bumped her from behind.

When Y/N turned back around, searching for that someone, she was met with a sight she had only seen once in an abandoned warehouse late at night. One that made her mind scream: Helianthus annuus.

Mercher Dupont's eyes were deranged, veins gruesomely popping and blood spilling from his lips, before toppling in the middle of the dance floor, taking his final breath.

[subbing-for-clones]

She Who Walks the Line Between Part 2

Maul x GreyJedi!Reader

Word Count: 2729

WARNINGS: pain, mentions of injuries, starting of some light fluff.

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       You led the crimson and black Zabrack past your small crop field, where a large wooden table and a few stumps scattered around it sat. You placed the basket of clay to your side and took a seat, with an open hand motioned for him to settle across from you. He took your que and rested his legs down beneath him unable to sit comfortably on the wood. You folded your hands under your chin, elbows resting on the table and looked into his eyes. He fidgeted in place, uncomfortable by your unblinking gaze. He wouldn't meet your eye for longer than a few moments and stared at the Meiloorun trees that grew not far from where you two sat.

    Following his eyeline you stood and picked a few of the fruits, bringing them back to your half-starved guest and watched as he quickly ravished the purple fruits. While he was otherwise occupied you stood behind him and looked closer where his body ended and the jumbled mess of scrap began. Not just his legs but he was severed through his torso. You reached a hand out and lightly touched the lowest part of his back before the metal formed. He jumped back shocked at the touch and you raised your hands to show him you weren't going to hurt him.

"I can give you your body back rather easily however your mind is fragmented and scrambled. It will be a process but I'd like to restore you to your original form."

He had finished the fruit you offered him and stared at you in disbelief.

"That... that’s impossible." He sat wide eyed. "There's nothing to connect, my other half is... gone."

"I don't mean to reconnect you but to recreate you. That's what the clay is for." You motioned towards the basket.

"How?" He asked shocked staring at the clay and turning back to you with narrow eyes.

"In my distaste for cybernetic bodies I've learned how to regrow limbs and various body parts out of the clay found on this world. It has special properties in it. It will require much physical therapy but it can be done if you allow it."

He thought for a moment, as clearly as he could anyway and looked down at the mess of limbs beneath him. His eyes continued their narrowed stare at you.

"What do I have to do? What do you want from me?"

"Honestly?" You started with a cocked brow. "I just want some peace. That’s why I live here in solitude, the search for peace. But your suffering has reached my mind all the way out here. I figure since your existence hasn’t upset the balance for the entirety of your life, if I put you back together, get you cleaned up, back into decent shape and do something about this." You motioned to his mind. "Perhaps balance will be restored again and I can continue on with my life and my studies. In peace. All you have to do is let me."

    He thought on this longer. All he could vividly remember was his survival on Lotho Minor but the longer he was away from that hell hole, smaller, fainter memories had started coming back. He didn't think anyone had offered him a kindness like this before. Even if it was for your own personal gain, he benefitted greatly as well.

"Alright." He snarled quietly still quite weary of you as you dumped the clay onto the table and started molding it into the shape of legs and hips.

    Once you were satisfied with the basic shape and proportion you instructed him to let go of the energy he was using to keep the scrap under him together. You left for a moment to find a large robe for him. When you returned to your makeshift work station you found him lying on his back, torso touching the clay and staring up at the midday sky. Wispy clouds decorated the bright blue, it was hard on his eyes now accustomed to darkness so he was squinting against it. You frowned at his wince and force pulled an umbrella that sat on your porch over to you, setting it up so it shielded the light but not the view. He looked at you in bewilderment at this small unnecessary kindness to him. You placed the robe down on the stump to your side silently and held your hands one above his body and the other above the clay.

You looked to him for a final approval, "this is probably gonna hurt just so you know." You warned.

He dug his claws into the wood table bracing himself and gave you a final nod.

    He wasn't prepared for what came next. You had closed your eyes and placed one of your hands on his chest, the other on the clay. Your cool touch cut through him like a knife and his hearts started racing. He couldn't remember ever being touched in a way that didn’t draw blood. His hearts pounded against your hand. You moved your hand down, tracing his body lightly until he no longer felt your touch. He fell into the bliss of contact when your hands left the clay and returned to his body. You were running your hands across his body, down to the clay and back up again, envisioning him whole. Urging the force to make him one again. You projected feeling of calm, peace and gentleness through the force unto him as you worked.

    His chest vibrated against his will, creating a purr that rumbled quietly every time you traced him but the purr turned to a growl that turned into screaming as his body seared. It felt like a fire burned violently where he had been severed and the flames licked at the rest of his skin. He left deep rivets in the wood beneath him in an attempt to hold still despite his instincts to run, he endured. As suddenly as the pain came, it left. He felt a breeze on his feet. He opened his eyes to find your back turned to him while holding out the grey robe. He didn't realize why you were turned away until he looked down. It wasn't a hallucination, he had feet, he had two legs that bore the same markings that he suddenly remembered he had. He was once again intact, including to his almost surprise he had his manhood back. He took the robe and quickly covered himself suddenly hyperaware that he lay naked in front of a woman.

"Are you decent?" You asked. You had averted your gaze so he could retain some semblance of dignity.

 "I am covered." Still distracted by the fact that it actually worked.

"Good." You replied turning around and studying your handiwork. His legs looked good; the tattoos lined up from what you could tell, lifting the robe slightly at his hips, keeping his groin covered. They were the same size same length and he wasn't in agony so the insides must be alright.

    You gripped his thighs which caused him to sit up quickly snarling at you. Without letting go, your eyes inches from his you practically whispered "I have to feel them to make sure your bone structure and joints are all in the right places. Let me know if you can't feel my touch at some point or if my touch hurts."

    His top lip curled in reluctance but he nodded. You firmly yet gently massaged his thighs moving up to his hips and down to his knees. You lifted each knee slightly making sure they bent the right way then continuing down his calves to his ankles. They rolled as they should. You spent a few minutes on each foot making sure all those little pieces were screwed in right so to speak. It took everything in his being to keep his eyes open.

"Could you feel me the whole time?"

"Yes." He whimpered slightly.

"Good. Now try to wiggle your toes. Yes, good just like that. Now bend your knees for me; wonderful. Lift your legs a little one at a time. Just try to get your heels a few inches off the table. Perfect. Can you spread and close your legs for me? Just a bit so I know those joints work well too. Magnificent." He grunted with effort but passed all your little tests.

You clapped your hands together. "Good! Wow, I've only ever done single limbs on wounded animals before, this was a job." His eyes widened in horror.

"You didn't know if this was going to work?!"

"Nope! First time for everything but hey it was a success so don't get yourself all worked up." Your hands were on your hips. "Now they won't be able to bear your full weight for a while so take it easy, I'll help you around but now..." you pulled out a large wood file. "I'm gonna take care of those claws and those horns. They are truly atrocious."

    The next three hours you spent carefully shaping his horns to a much more manageable length and rounding them just enough so they wouldn't slice on contact. His claws on the other hand now resembled human finger nails. He sat on the stump while you fussed over him while he ate a whole serving bowl of various fruits from your garden and dried meats. Every time you touched the base of one of his horns his eyes twitched in bliss and rolled to the back of his head.

     When you finished you set the file down and once again studied your craftsmanship. His face flushed with your eyes and mouth so close to him again, starting to realize now that his body was in one piece he had hormones to regulate. Satisfied with what you had done you handed him a makeshift crutch and wrapped your arm around his waist and his free arm over your shoulder.

    For the first time, you led him into your home slowly. He couldn't believe how good grass then carpet felt under his feet and he actually smiled. You made your way to the refresher where a large bath sat prefilled with hot water. You dropped a large sandalwood scented bath bomb into the waters. He watched mesmerized as it fizzled and placed a hand in the water out of curiosity. After verifying that the temperature was good you closed your eyes and helped him slide into the tub only opening when you could sense that he was submerged up to his chest.

“These wonderful little bath bombs have salts and oils that will help heal your smaller cuts and scrapes on the rest of your body as well as clean you.”

    You watched his eyes roll to the back of head and close, a low groan escaping his lips as he enjoyed the water and rubbed his legs together. You smiled at him; it truly did bring you joy to help this poor lost soul. Although he was still rather gaunt and his eyes still blown out with possible insanity, he had quite handsome features. You shook your head to drive the thought away from your mind and without a word you left the room, leaving him to soak in the steamy waters, not before calling over your shoulder, “I will be back with some clean clothes for you soon. Shout if you need anything.”

 ~~~~~

      The water on his skin was glorious. The heat on his body, the smell of the sandalwood and the steam he breathed overloaded his senses and put him in a state of euphoria. He reached up and felt his freshly groomed horns, enjoying the fact that he could touch them without cutting himself. He felt tears welling up in his eyes that he wouldn’t let fall at the thought of everything this woman had done to him, for him today. He had completely forgotten the fear he felt just this morning when he saw her for the first time. Her figure against the grasslands, strong and filled with a purposeful resolve that was also soothing. Eyes simply electric. Her hair, wild with the breeze. He felt something flutter in his stomach and he put the image of her out of his mind to stave it off.

    What did he do to deserve such kindness, such a sweet saving grace in his bleak existence? Nothing he was sure. As he relaxed, more of his memories came back to him as if he never forgot them. His fists clenched as he remembered how he got to this sorry state to begin with and a name rumbled out of his chapped lips almost silently. "Kenobi."

    Before he could fall into his rage, he heard a tapping on the door just before his savior reentered carrying black pants and a black tunic. A sweet and spicy smell wafted into the room and his mouth watered.

"I got a weird feeling when I passed these in the market on one of the populated planets I frequent on my last run so I bought them. Now I know why I got that feeling." His hearts pounded in his chest as she kneeled on the floor behind his head after setting them down on the counter. Using a glass, she scooped up water from the bath and ran it over the top of his head, following with massaging soap and scented oils into his scalp and around the base of his horns. Loosing himself completely he let out a moan. He couldn't see it but she smiled again behind him with a single raised brow.

 ~~~~~

      Once you had rinsed him off you closed your eyes once again and helped him out, allowing him to dry himself and dress while using you as a support until he gave you the all clear that you could open them again. Weary of his shaky legs you led him down a hallway, passing a few doors and back into the great room where a single couch sat facing an array of well stocked bookshelves. The only electronic in sight was a single radio on one of the shelves quietly playing lo-fi. A small table and chairs sat just beyond the couch in view of both the kitchen and the front door.

    After helping him take a seat you dished the two of you large bowls of the meat stew and a pitcher of water for the table. He ate and drank the broth down to the last drop before you had halfway finished. Getting up to serve him a second helping he stuttered "you don’t.. have to do that."

"Please." You retorted casually. "I will be stuffing you full until you're well again. You may have your legs back but you’re underweight for your species and size. You’ll need lots of calories to back to ‘fighting weight’." He ate much more slowly this time until he gathered the courage to speak again.

"I never asked you your name. I think... no, I know. I am called Maul." His eyes never left you as he waited for your reply.

"Well my name is Y/N. I am glad your ship landed here Maul."

"I am very thankful for that as well.. um.. Thank you. For everything."

    The two of you finished your meal in a comfortable silence. Humming occasionally at the savory and rich stew. He had asked to retire after dinner so you aided him to your spare bedroom. It was small only having a single sized bed, a night stand and yet another bookshelf properly filled with writings that he could reach from the bed if he wanted to. After rummaging around some drawers, you found a pair of com links and asked him to use it should he need anything to which he agreed. You placed a hand on his forehead absent mindedly, wishing him a good night before sauntering off. Sleep came slowly to the Zabrack, staring out the window to the field. He could just barely see the goats and a few chickens in the yard but it was you who filled his mental images before sleep finally took him long after the sun had set.

[siennahrobek]

Prompt

In a new attempt to turn Anakin Skywalker to the darkside, Chancellor Palpatine orchestrates the disappearances of heavily pregnant Padme Amidala and Master Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi. It backfired.

Nobody really won.

It had been ten years.

Knight Anakin Skywalker and Knight Ahsoka Tano were sent to a distress call far out in the outer rim, almost in wild space. Anakin didn’t mind the long journey. His former padawan was good company and sometimes, sometimes, it was nice to get away from the Temple for a while. Away from the sympathetic and pitying stares and lingering theories or rumors.

Things hadn’t been the same for many reasons.

Ten years ago, the two most important people in Anakin’s life disappeared, the man who raised him and his heavily pregnant wife. Eight years ago, they had found what was left of her body. Five years ago, the Order declared Master Kenobi one with the Force.

Anakin never truly stopped looking, but he was becoming dim in ability and stamina. It had been so long and there were no leads to follow. No trace or evidence of his old masters presence anyway. Nowadays, it was pretty much just research and keeping an eye out for anything that vaguely resembled him. He was trying to have the life Obi-Wan always wanted for him, balance and happiness. He tried to connect with others, with Jedi. He spent quite a bit of time mediating, walking the gardens, helping as many as he could throughout the galaxy. He was a good Jedi, he thought, at least on the outside. He was working on the inside. He had a jedi’s life.

It was all he had now. And he would do his best to make Obi-Wan proud.

But being happy, truly happy, Anakin wasn’t sure if he could truly achieve it anymore. Being balanced with that type of hole in your heart, it was difficult. He could accept loss better now; there was no stopping that sort of thing. When it was one’s time to leave the planes of this galaxy for the Force, it was something to rejoice. It was supposed to be home. It wasn’t so easy when there were no answers.

Ahsoka had been knighted several years earlier and Anakin could not have been more proud. Her friends had been there, had congratulated her and she was happy, he had to believe that. But even she missed the presence of another who should have been there. Obi-Wan would have wanted to be there, to witness such a great occasion. They did their best and afterwards, they had a good time, were happy with the rank that came with her knighthood. It wasn’t that either of them were mourning during the time. It was just, they could feel the missing piece. It has been a few years but lately, they had found themselves partnered up quite frequently for missions. He hoped Ahsoka didn’t mind too much but there was never going to be an easy way out of this. Around it. Because this was the type of thing he and Obi-Wan did. They were the Team. They did everything together, even after knighthood.

The Council was trying, he gave them that.

He didn’t know if it really helped, though. It was nice, though, that they cared. They kept an eye on him. Years before, he would have read that as they didn’t trust him. It took him a very, very long time to realize that wasn’t always the case. And partnering him up with someone he was close to, someone he trusted above most else, it was some way of caring. He still struggled with those thoughts, even years later, but he was easier now.

The mystery however, was not any easier. There was an abysmal void where his loved ones should have been. A tear in his heart from the mystery. The lack of answers. He still found himself grieving for Padme but it was easier now. Although no one was entirely sure exactly what had happened to her, at least they had found a body, they had a storyline about what had happened and how it happened. It wasn’t sometime Anakin liked to think about particularly, but it was easier to grieve knowing. She was gone and eventually, he had accepted that. Let go, so to speak. She was with the Force and Anakin could feel her in some of the things he did, some of the objects and people and actions he witnessed and saw. There was grief, but there was also knowing.

The same could not be said for Obi-Wan.

No one knew what happened to him. There were no clues, no evidence. He had disappeared one day, alongside Padme and no one ever could figure out how it happened or why or anything. Although they had found a body for her, they never did for him. Not even a glimmer of anything.

Some darker rumors, cynical beings, spread that he had abandoned the Order. That the war had made him go mad. That he had kidnapped the senator or worse, was the one who slaughtered her. Anakin had quickly put a stop to it. Everyone had felt it the moment he knew about these ideas and theories, diminishing and tarnishing Obi-Wan’s name that was atrocious. He was not the only one who felt this way, but he was the strongest and most determined and the most furious…

No one said anything now.

No one dared.

The Jedi kept him in high honors. He was mentioned in classes, with his thoughts and theories on the Force, his research on all the things he loved to learn; animals, plants, cultures, languages. His strategies from the war were taught. His negotiation fame was spread; everyone knew the stories of the Negotiator. He wasn’t just a war hero. He was a Jedi, and a great one at that. His faith in the Order, his faith in people, his faith in the Force, was incredible and Anakin hadn’t really come to realize how that was until years after.

Obi-Wan loved in such a way that Anakin hadn’t understood since he was a child. He wished that he could talk with him one more time, just to show his old master that he was right, that Anakin was okay. That Anakin knew how much Obi-Wan Kenobi loved him.

That Anakin was doing his very best to be the Jedi and person he knew he could be.

The clones continued to think of him; believe the best in their General Kenobi. They always had liked him. He was a high general, one that appreciated and valued their input and their lives. He was their finder, all the cadets – former and current – had been told the stories about how he found them like a true Jedi searcher. Even if it was by accident, it had jumpstarted their journey into being free. He had worked to help and protect them alongside other council members and the few politicians who saw them more as canon fodder. It amazed Anakin how long and intense the memories of the former soldiers were because he was still brought up.

Cody and a lot of the 212th had taken it hard; harder that most of the rest of the military. He was their direct general, someone they followed personally up until the very end of the war. Some of them had been friends, even. They had helped Anakin search for a long time, but it was getting harder for them. They had jobs now, they had to start lives, be citizens. Things were expected of them, like for some reason, they had to catch up to the rest of the citizens. It was a struggle and a fight but luckily, they did have allies for assistance.

Many clones got adopted into or employed at the Temple. There weren’t many force-sensitive ones, none enough that they would have made an actual Jedi knight, but the Order was loyal to them as they had been to the Jedi. Many troopers filled in other roles, of teachers, sparring partners, cooks, guards, and researchers. Waxer and Boil had made it from being aides to a creche master to being crèche masters themselves, with leading their own clan of initiates.

Obi-Wan would have loved that.

“Coming up to origin of signal,” Ahsoka announced from the pilot’s seat, flipping a few switches as she began the sequence for landing and attachment. In the middle of nowhere, Anakin noted. There wasn’t a planet near here, in sight or on the scanners. He wondered how they even got out here. Hopefully this wasn’t a mortis situation all over again. He did not want to deal with something like that again. The ship in front of them was small and broken down, floating aimlessly in the abyss of space.

He doubted anyone survived.

“You never know, master,” Ahsoka tried to keep herself upbeat as she shot him a grin, sharp teeth showing unabashedly. “Perhaps we will be pleasantly surprised,” she suggested with a bit of a shrug. The ship had made a thud as it hit the abandoned one and the latches untangled themselves to strike into the hull of the ship.

Oh. He had said that out loud. Oops.

“Latch engaged,” she added and turned to smile at him, tentatively once again. “Come on master. Let’s see what adventure awaits us.”

“I’m no longer your master, Ahsoka,” he reminded her, idly.

She shrugged once more. “Right,” she replied with a small smirk, her voice laced with sarcasm. It was practically oozing out of her. She remained him of his former master sometimes, with her humor and quick wit. With a mischievous side eye, she continued, slyly. “Let’s go, master.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and followed her out, making their way through their ship’s hatch and towards the abandoned one. He still didn’t think that anyone survived but this was their duty. And the calm silence of their journey and the nature of the mission was a bit of a relief from the fast-paced ones that he was normally sent on. Usually, it was a good way to keep his mind off of everything else. This was a nice reprieve.

As the two of them got into the derelict ship, Anakin started talking and he had absolutely no idea where it came from. It was like his mouth had started moving and his brain had not given it permission. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka.”

She glanced at him, curiously. “What for?”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes, as they waved a flashlight around, searching the cockpit for life or anything else that could give them an idea into what had happened and who may have been there. “I know I haven’t really been…the same since…”

“Since Padme and Master Obi-Wan disappeared,” she supplied with a frown. It had been ten years since it happened and several years since she had been knighted and she still remembered. It was almost always the reason.

He nodded and swallowed heavily. “I…I got through Padme, to some extent at least. I knew what happened to her. But Obi-Wan…I still wonder.”

“Wonder…?”

“What happened. I know everyone says he wouldn’t leave me, not like that but…” he drifted off, looking down, his light flickering towards the floor, near useless. “I was a pretty terrible person around the time he disappeared, unbalanced and in a bad place. Listening to the wrong people, making terrible choices,” Anakin shuddered at the thought of what Palpatine nearly got him to do in his desperation and fury. It had been a dreadful time and everyone else had nearly paid the price for his mistakes, for his foolishness. Ten thousand Jedi, millions of the clones, all the people in the galaxy. He feared now what would have happened if he had not been pulled from the edge, if he had made that leap into the dark side, into the fear and anger and hate. “Perhaps…. maybe it was just too much for even the great and infinitely patient Master Kenobi.”

Ahsoka scoffed good-naturedly as she rolled her eyes, finding the sliver of humor to work through. “One, Master Obi-Wan was not infinitely patient,” she pointed out, glancing at him pointedly. She wasn’t completely wrong. Obi-Wan had a lot of patience but even he had his limits, generally with those he didn’t care for. His patience with Anakin though, that was legendary. Not that he would ever really admit that. “And two, they are right. He would never leave you out of choice. I mean come on. Master Obi-Wan.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he replied half-heartedly and tried shooting her a smile. It wasn’t very convincing, but it was all he had at the moment. After a suggestion of splitting up, the two of them went to opposite ends of the ship, Anakin towards the living quarters and Ahsoka towards the cargo bay. Perhaps Anakin could find some clues with the former inhabitant’s belongings or Ahsoka with whatever they were travelling with.

It was a bust. There was very little there, aside from some blankets. Anakin imagined there were a couple of people stuffed within the quarters, perhaps a man and a child or two, with the toys he found. There were some handmade wooden carved ship toys laying on the bed and Anakin picked one up. It was a Jedi star fighter, he realized. It wasn’t the most amazing rendition of the ship, but he was probably a little bias, considering he had not only flown one of these during the war, he still had one.

What was really interesting about it was the feelings imbued with it. The signature felt familiar, like he should know it, but it was weak. Whoever made this toy was filled with so much love, for the recipient, for those in general, that he cascaded off the toy in waves.

He wondered if the former inhabitant had been force sensitive. It might explain the feelings in the ship and the toys, especially.

“I don’t see anything!” Ahsoka shouted from the opposite end of the ship. He could hear her just fine, even though she was on the other end, but Anakin was still a bit entranced with the toy and the feelings coming off of it. “You?”

There was a brief silence and a clatter. Not big enough to be her body but it had sounded like she had dropped her flashlight.

Anakin glanced back towards where she had headed. He couldn’t see her but it was more instinctive than anything. “Ahsoka?”

Silence.

“Ahsoka?! Answer me?” Anakin started to panic, his heart beating faster and faster as he moved towards the door, calling her name.

She sounded scared and small, like back in the early days of the war and casualties were high. When she was worried about those she cared about, troopers, jedi, citizens. She sounded like she was in tears. Anakin couldn’t really remember a specific time where had sounded so fearful, so worried, so sad. Not in a way that was as blatant as this. “Skyguy?” Her voice called out. That was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. “You…you have to come see this.”

Anakin raced across the ship, panicked, and leaping over crates and objects. She didn’t make it sound like she was in danger, and she didn’t appear to be, but he didn’t stop until he was right next to Ahsoka. He had nearly crashed into it. She was standing in front of a large gray slab, some kind of relief sculpture of some kind. At least, that was what it looked like, although he hadn’t gotten a very good look at it. His attention was on Ahsoka. But he could tell what it was made out of. He had never seen such a large slab of carbonite before.

“What is it?”

She was crying, he could see a multitude of silent tears. They were running down her face in a cascade and although he couldn’t hear them, he could almost hear her sobs in the Force. But she just pointed up and Anakin followed her hand and gaze.

The face was distorted, like it had been looking down when the carbonite had been applied. The slab was huge and only made bigger by the cloak the figure wore. It was sweeping and wide, like he was trying to cover, hide or protect large objects underneath. Possibly, he was. But even with the odd, defensive pose and the face not looking straight on, even after ten years, Anakin knew that face.

He always knew that face.

Frozen in carbonite.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

I'm into legend of the phoenix too! I'm happy you're taking request :') so...I would like to request hcs for fu heng, pan an and yin zhen finding out that reader is trying to take revenge from the crown prince :') I'm definitely addicted to this game xD

I don’t know who you are, but I love you so much for requesting for this fandom omg!! I never expected anyone to be into it tbh x And honestly, you got  Yin Zhen, who’s my babe, Fu Heng, who’s my friend’s babe, and then Pan An, that celestial cutiepie, for whom I fought and grinded so much in Royal Chaos to get, but I got so fast in LOTP xD

Also, I hope I won’t spoil anything from the story x I’m on chapter 100, almost done with it, and since you literally requested the first 3 confidants you get in the game, and the first half of the story, idk what chapter are you on <3

Hope you like it!! <3

---

FU HENG

As much as he is shy, he’s still a very perceptive warrior that wants to protect you with all that he’s got, so of course, he’ll keep close to you as often as he can, going as far as to question you and the reason you just can’t seem to get out of trouble.

He knows very well that most of the women of the palace are cruel harpies who’d do anything in their power to trample over others, just to get higher in rank.

So, one day, you explain to him your goal of getting revenge on the Crown Prince, letting the reason behind a bit vague, knowing very well that he wouldn’t believe something so insane.

But with a bit of proof and knowledge of the past, present and future outcomes, he’ll get persuaded that yes, you truly were reborn from your own ashes, and you just want to live a peaceful life, knowing that your tormentor, who’s also the one who ultimately killed the Emperor in a past life, was dead and could do you, and the Kingdom, no more harm.

You can imagine how incredibly pained he was when you told him about the assassination of the Emperor from your past life, which made him be even more on guard, but not even a triple amount of guards and incredible vigilance could protect him from his shattered heart, once the feast happened and his nightmares became reality.

It was just as you said, assassins were going to try to kill the Emperor, but he never expected them to swarm the place and to be so powerful.

So he wasn’t there to protect the Emperor.

But you were. 

And now, he held your bleeding, unconscious form in his arms, running to take you to the imperial physician, while all the other guards were making sure the Emperor was under no more threat, and escorted back to the Palace of Mental Cultivation.

He starts praying very hard and making offerings to the Gods so they will take mercy on you and keep you alive, all while never leaving your side and holding your hand in his.

That’s when he vowed that he will help you out with any plan and execution needed, just so the Crown Prince will finally be eliminated from the picture, and you’d be in no more mortal danger like that.

As soon as you wake up, he lets out a sigh of relief and confesses all his feelings for you, kissing your face, not even caring how embarrassed he was, how his heart was racing, or his face was red.

He just wanted you to be okay, by his side, and smiling.

PAN AN

Pan An isn’t really a man of the palace, but a constable, so of course, he always feels the need to protect others and make sure there is peace and balance in the city, no matter what.

He just can’t stand injustices.

It doesn’t take him long after you tell him about how truly vile the Crown Prince actually is, behind that royal facade of smoke and mirrors, so he starts looking into matters very carefully.

With some insight from your childhood friend, Murong Chong, you get some leads, and since you already had some pointers from your past life, you knew who the Crown Prince’s allies were, and what to do to avoid trouble, even while playing his ally.

When he heard about the numerous attempts on your life, including the Empress trying to poison you, he almost went livid, but since he has to keep his calm and collected composure, he started praising how shrewd and intelligent you are, being able to play the double agent role.

But he’s also very curious about your actual reason, knowing that keeping the peace in the Kingdom couldn’t be the only thing.

So you explain, making sure he keeps an open-mind, and despite all the skepticism, it kinda makes sense, and connecting all the dots, putting all the evidence together, and showing him there was actually another woman who was reborn, just like you, in the Hard Labour Camp, he accepts things as they are.

It’s a little sad that Pan An can’t always be in the palace and make sure you’re okay, that no more attempts on your or the Emperor’s lives are made, since he has his own job, but worry not, your cause is his priority and he’ll actually work with Murong to bring about more evidence of the Prince’s treacheries and won’t stop until he sees both him and his mother convicted for their atrocious crimes.

It’s a long journey, but when that happens, he swears to himself that he will ask you to marry him, since he can’t bear the thought of being away from you and not knowing you were protected all the time.

There is no greater force in the world, not even the earthly calamities or the Emperor himself, that could stop Pan An from loving you.

YIN ZHEN

This guy...OH, this guy is a true piece of work, I’m telling you.

He suspects something all the time, no matter how much he’s smitten with you, he still can’t help himself and will tease, mock, taunt and pressure you to hell and back, just to get you talking, or at least sketch some adorable reactions, since you seem to master them.

Of course, Yin Zhen is the 4th Prince, and the next best contestant to the throne, after that Crown Prince that everyone hates so much ( at least from the line of princes, that is ), so when he found out you want to bring him down, you better believe you’ve got yourself an ally for life.

Although he will claim it’s a mutual alliance, he still loves your presence around him, and won’t hesitate to tell you, even if you think he’s making fun of you...Again.

It won’t take long for him to find out that in a previous life, the Crown Prince gave you poison to drink and that’s how you died - Allegedly - So even if that’s true, or you’re just dreaming and need a reason to get rid of that guy, he’ll make sure that’s how his elder brother will fall.

Sure, you don’t believe him all the time, Yin Zhen is as mysterious as the dark side of the moon, so you automatically doubt him sometimes, but when he got himself in the crossfire, going as far as to forge things to incriminate him, just to get punished by the Emperor, it was enough proof for you that he’s all in with your alliance and will go at all lengths to kill that guy.

It’s kinda endearing how he can be so sharp, cold and determined, while also being able to be so soft, gentle and loving with you.

That makes you even more determined to catch that bastard, so you tell Yin Zhen exactly what happened, while bringing him some osmanthus cakes and rose tea, and this at least makes him understand why you’re so afraid of princes and love in general.

He won’t show it, but Yin Zhen is beyond angry and will make sure to hold you while you watch that jerk drink poison and struggle to breathe at least one more time, clinging desperately to his consciousness for one more second.

And when that happens, Eunuch Gui is there, at the jail the Crown Prince was kept in, holding him while you and Yin Zhen smirked triumphantly, pouring the poison in his mouth, watching with satisfaction as he was twitching on the ground, in complete agony, trying to live, like a fish on land.

It was then that Yin Zhen turned to you, a wave of calmness and peace obviously having splashed you, and he cups his face, kissing you passionately, and telling you how much he loves you, and that he will be there to support you no matter what.

He doesn’t care if he’s the Emperor or not, as long as he has you by his side, and you’re happy, he’s content with being just a Prince, very in love with you, and being able to drink wine outside, in the beautiful plum and cherry garden, by the lotus pond.

[sarriathmg]

Omega Jason Todd Week 2020 Day 7: Free day #2 - Historical AU - 1700s What happens if none of the prompts you wanted to do made it? Why, crunch them all on the free day, of course!

Pfft yall have no proof that I'm just looking for excuses to put Jason in various dresses AO3 link ----

“I despise this,” Jason whispered to himself as he ripped the elaborate powdered wig off of his head and threw it aside, “this is atrocious.”

He really didn’t understand the reason why he had to do this. The whole rationale behind having to use his omega charms to approach the Waynes completely evaded him. Not when he had to dress in these ridiculous red satins and side hoops, barely able to move with him tripping over his gown every second step. The tightly laced stays he wore made his torso stiff and the dainty shoes hurt his feet. Jason hated how demeaning the low laced collar was, practically revealing his breasts for all the world to see, evoking interested looks to shoot at him from alphas all around which Jason absolutely detested. He also hated the perfumes that he was made to wear. They were too sweet, too artificial. Too obviously omega.

“I will kill Roman for this,” he said through clenched teeth. And to think the bastard alpha had the audacity to suggest that he also powder his face white and rouge his cheeks. He missed his coat, his red-colored hooded cloak and his simple mask (not like the frilly one he’s forced to wear to the masked ball), and his boots (God, did he miss his boots). But most importantly, Jason missed his guns. He missed his belt and his firearms, and he wished he was anywhere but here, dressed in unisex habits wreaking havoc in the harbor near the Wayne’s ships instead of standing here pretending to be some vulnerable damsel wearing these demeaning pannier and bows and satins that dragged on the ground, trying to use his omega attractiveness against the supposedly unsuspecting Waynes.

Jason huffed out a frustrated sigh before looking around himself. And, after making sure that no one was staring, he quietly and stealthily took off the ruffled red domino mask to reveal his face. Jason wanted a break. He needed one.

The Waynes had three sons and only one of them was alpha, a rich kid who was more into playing around than any official courtship and more into forming his own pack of misfits than staying home and taking over the pack legacy like a responsible alpha son should. Jason had read all the files on Richard Grayson before Roman had made him prepare for the ball, and he wasn’t convinced one bit that this plan was going to work.

‘But wouldn’t it be easier if you used an omega with more finesse who is more experienced with higher society?’ he’d asked.

‘Son,’ Roman had answered, right before he helped lace on Jason’s stays, ‘you’re selling yourself short. Besides, your training made you the best omega for this job.’

Except it’s easier said than done. Trying to disguise himself as a fine omega who’s lived among aristocracy his whole life when he was in actuality but a street urchin found curled up in the gutter was bloody hard. Jason didn’t have a smidge of clue on how to act properly and pretend to be a respectable omega like the rich bastards he was finding himself amongst right now. Only making things harder was him trying to locate the couple of targets he was meant to seduce in a massive ballroom where every single alpha, omega, and even some betas had their faces hidden behind masks. Jason had no clue what either Wayne or Grayson looked like in real life, which meant it was almost impossible to locate them among tens of masked attendants.

And speaking of which, of course, someone just had to decide to speak to Jason the same moment he removed his.

“May I have this dance?”

The voice sounded behind him with a classy but seductive alpha timbre. Jason looked back only so he could yell at the pretentious male to get lost. But that’s not what ended up happening. As soon as he had his eyes set on the young man, Jason immediately forgot what he was going to say.

A young alpha - perhaps only a few years older than Jason and dressed in black and blue - was holding his hand out to him in a polite and gentlemanly way. His hair was raven black, wavy, and down to his shoulders. His coat had golden trims and decorations embroidered among the smooth surface of the bright blue satin, yet they didn’t look overly ornate in any way. If anything, they made the man’s cerulean-blue eyes stand out even more under his simple silken black domino mask.

“You’re not from around here, I presume?” the alpha asked, still holding out his hand, black silken glove with blue strips catching some of the light from the wall lamps surrounding them, “if there had been such a fine omega around Gotham before, I would’ve noticed.”

There’s something...fraudulent in the alpha’s mannerism. The smile on his lips did not reach his eyes, his words were practiced, and Jason was way too familiar with the look in the man’s eyes which showed an alpha’s inquisitive behavior that Jason had known from his days on the streets. The scents he wore were also artificial, smelling eternally of calm sandalwood and lime, not giving away anything about the alpha’s true emotions or intentions.

Jason swallowed. His eyes quickly darted towards his side, catching a glimpse of Roman walking by while sipping a glass of wine, eyes trailing to him unsuspectedly under the black skull mask he wore. And Jason immediately knew this was a dance that he’s not allowed to turn down.

“You have a keen eye,” Jason said instead, couldn’t hold down the almost sarcastic tone in his voice as he placed his own gloved hand onto the alpha’s fancily clad ones, “care to tell me more about this city?”

As he let the alpha lead him down to the dance floor, Jason was beginning to feel anxious. Roman did in fact hire a tutor to train him in the dances of the upper-class, but Jason didn’t know if he’s adequate enough to keep up. He still had his mask in his hand, so Jason restored it back onto his face.

They began an allemande, starting their tip-toed dance to the trendy orchestral music that had gotten quite popular in the past decade before holding hands and twirling around each other, their fake alpha and omega perfumes mixing in a chaotic whirlpool of imitation of courtship pheromones.

“There’s a lot about Gotham that I could talk about,” the young and beautiful alpha finally spoke up, his long hair softly bouncing and whirling around with his movement, a loose strand temporarily stuck to the side of his mask before falling away and joining the others. “I don’t know what could interest a young omega like you. Do you rather talk about the elite or the poor?”

“Anything interesting, I suppose,” Jason answered with barely-concealed boredom, “my interests are broad, despite my designation.”

“In that case,” the alpha held his hand and they twirled around, a wave of dizziness suddenly catching Jason by surprise, “I suppose you might have heard about the mysterious red-hooded rogue who’s been attacking the harbors?”

Jason put on his practiced impassive visage and lied, “No. Care to tell me?”

Another swirl, and this time the alpha caught a hold of his waist and his hand, and they swayed in the music like two bodies in one.

“Well,” the alpha said thoughtfully, “forgive me for mentioning such a dark matter in front of an omega. The man calls himself Red Hood, and seemed to harbor a hate for the rich. He had been sabotaging Wayne's shipments for almost a month. But it’s nothing someone like you should worry about...we town folks are generally safe, despite being the ‘rich’ that the fiend hates so much.”

“Doesn’t seem like a topic one would talk about with an omega they just met at a ball,” Jason deadpanned.

“You’re right,” the alpha said, an amused tone in his voice, “but it’s something that’s been happening to Gotham which a newcomer might find helpful. And, since it appears this is your first ball, I think it’s proper of me to help...break the ice, so to speak.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Oh, many things,” the alpha laughed, “like how your mannerism doesn’t match with someone educated in high society from birth, or how you look like you are struggling to move in those garments.”

He took Jason’s hand and they made a swirl, the orchestral music in the ballroom ringing fancily in the omega’s ears.

“Although,” the alpha then mused, “isn’t it strange, that no one truly knows Red Hood’s designation, even though most just assumed he is alpha, like most rogues? It does seem a rather rare coincidence that a lovely omega like you would show up suddenly at the Wayne’s ball around the same time their shipments are being sabotaged by an elusive red-hooded figure.”

Jason was so shocked that he didn’t know what to say. He was suddenly glad that the perfumes he wore were heavy-scented enough that it could hide his true anxiety. He almost fell by tripping on the side of his gown, but the mysterious young alpha caught his waist just in time.

The alpha supported him until Jason was able to balance himself on his heels again. Then, he held his hand in a gentlemanly fashion as Jason stared at him speechless and dumbfounded.

“Forgive my ill manners,” the alpha said, “I apologize for my intrusive words. It’s not every day one could find a lovely omega to talk to. You seemed to be someone with similar interests as me despite your designation, so I let myself speak more than I should have.”

And then he kissed his hand, soft lips feeling warm even as they were obstructed by silken gloves. The young alpha’s long hair dropped down and tickled him through the fabric, and for a moment Jason had the insane thought that even his fake sandalwood scents smelled pleasant.

“We will meet again, my lovely omega,” the alpha said as he began to step away, still holding Jason’s hand a while longer as their arms stretched a little to accommodate. There’s something in the alpha’s expression and tone that told Jason he wasn’t just speaking to be polite. He actually meant it.

Then, the alpha was gone, leaving Jason to stand and contemplate the situation by himself.

[kentonwrites]

“Anamnesis” - Project Update

Look, I know I only have 40 followers and like 38 of them are bots, but writing these updates is my only source of joy. If someone happens upon this, please enjoy.

My projects/writing life since 2017 have been utter chaos. I’ve started and abandoned probably over a dozen projects, had nightmarish problems in my personal life, and pretty much put writing as my last priority. For some odd reason though, returning to it now has given me a better perspective on the craft. I feel like taking a couple of years to simply live and observe and consume other media and suffer has actually strengthened my writing. 

A summary of my current projects:

1. Mispacha (Untitled): I used the placeholder title Mispacha because it’s the Hebrew term for “family,” which is what this novel revolves around. It’s about a dysfunctional family in the early 2010′s who simply live in constant disorder and end up degrading themselves. I love the characters and the plot points I have planned, but I’m only 16k words in and am not happy with what I’ve written. The dialogue feels awkward, the writing extremely sparse, etc. I want to see it through, but it’s hard to persist at it when 16k words worth of dead weight is just...hovering there on the page.

2. Blight 117 (formerly titled Potent). This was my last start-to-finish project, and the piece that I first introduced to @breefrankelwriting when we were CPs like 4 years ago. I recently reopened that document and read through a few scenes and was absolutely APPALLED at how atrocious it was (Bree I’m so sorry please forgive me), but I also feel like I’m somehow meant to tell this story and I eventually, someday, want to make it work. It was my first ever idea for a “real” novel--I’ve had the idea and characters with me since 7th grade. I feel like it’s supposed to be my magnum opus, but if I ever go back and re-attempt it, it’ll need an overhaul the likes of which have never been seen since the dawn of time. 

3. Short Story Collection: Literally last night I was just standing around and then suddenly got the inspiration to start writing short stories. I know, it’s literally so spontaneous and quirky of me. I’d attempted a few during the absolute deadzone of 2018-2020, but none of them truly worked out. Since I evidently suck at writing longer pieces (see Mispacha) I figured, maybe my strengths could be suited to a shorter medium.

So I decided to randomly draft a short story last night that played directly to my weaknesses!!!

This story is what the bulk of this update is about.

It’s called “Anamnesis” and I literally came up with the idea, wrote the first draft, and made revision notes all in a span of 5 hours last night, from 9 PM - 2 AM. It was exhilarating honestly--I hadn’t written like that in years. The first draft ended up being 5200 words (!!!) but I want to eventually buff it to around 6k since I think I majorly underwrote the final scene due to fatigue.

“Anamnesis”

TITLE: The title, “Anamnesis,” literally fits the story in so many ways I could cry. It operates on every level. All I can do is bow down to the person who created this word and thank them for its relevance to my story.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Sexual abuse, violence toward elderly

SYNOPSIS: A home health worker is assigned to an elderly woman whose memory resets each morning. He begins to take advantage of her illness, using her inability to remember the previous day in order to mistreat and abuse her. But when she is prescribed a new, promising treatment, she begins to remember more than just the abuse.  

AESTHETIC: This story has the most unpleasant aesthetic known to man. I’m talking old people, pills, mold, dust, stray cats, oatmeal, etc. I’ve been in a few hospice patient homes before and I wanted to capture just how uncomfortable and depressing it can be.

CHARACTERS:

Luna Lemin - the protagonist, an elderly woman with dementia whose memory resets every morning. Always confused. Pitiful. Sad. Dark secrets in her past??? 

Alex - the patient care technician assigned to look after Luna. An absolute piece of trash. A spectacular liar. Malicious yet curious. 

PROCESS: Like I said, this story played directly to my weaknesses. How? Because I simply cannot create compelling characters or pace a story to save my LIFE, and this story DEPENDS on the characters and the pace at which their relationship progresses. Furthermore, the setting in this is somewhat bland (literally just an old woman’s middle/lower-class house) which is a sin in terms of my writing. I thrive off of having a strong sense of setting and being able to describe specific, interesting details of that setting. In this piece I largely deprived myself of that. But it also helped me balance my flowery, poetic, overly-quirky writing style with a cohesive story and effective characters. Lately I had been putting my work on the crutch of having good writing, but it didn’t work because 1) my writing is not at a good enough level for that, and 2) sacrificing effectiveness is never a good idea. Sometimes it’s better to choose the clear, effective verb over the never-before-seen exotic one found in the depths of the Thesaurus under “archaic.”

I’m going to begin editing the story and might soon post excerpts/more updates! Though I literally wrote it in one long sprint and haven’t looked back at it since so I am PRAYING it’s not garbage. Thanks for reading!

[stingdragon]

Chaotic Malicious:

Peter Lukas voice upon seeing Martin lives below him "ah! Guess I'll just never leave this flat then"

Stingdragon:

Oh man...

Imagine Peter trying to live in an apartment. Avoiding all neighbors, checking the door to see if anyone is outside, listening for foot steps!

Chaotic Malicious:

DHDHSBD

Stingdragon:

And weasle his way out of community activities!

I don't know if you guys got them, but here you get things like once or twice a year cleaning of the gardens or the things around the building, summer barbecues and stuff like that.

Chaotic Malicious:

Peter just

Locks his door sjdhajdhshf

Stingdragon:

Peter squirming every time he needs to do his laundry in the joint laundry room! And he has to see the other tenants have booked time slots too!

Chaotic Malicious:

Obsessed with Peter being forced to live in a communal area 

sydhSHDHSHHD

Stingdragon :

Why doesn't he just move out?

Spite.

Or loosing a bet with Elias!

Chaotic Malicious:

Elias is the landlord

okay but this concept is fucking SENDING MEEE

In the context of the fic Peter is a quiet recluse who only ever comes out if the weather is gloomy, misty, or rainy who Martin sees and then goes "this is better than my mother" and proceeds to pester Peter

Stingdragon:

This would be the biggest crack fic!

Chaotic Malicious:

YEAH

Stingdragon:

Everyone get's an apartment!

Chaotic Malicious:

HSDHAHDHS

Stingdragon:

Jon always plays audio books or recite things in the room with the thinnest walls!

Chaotic Malicious:

to spite his neighbors

Stingdragon:

Neighbor Melanie constantly bangs on that said wall from her apartment because Jon holds atrocious sleep hours!

And Jon just forgets that it is 4am!

Chaotic Malicious:

But also AHDHSJDH

Stingdragon:

On Sasha and Tim's floor they might as well build a corridor connecting their apartment because they are constantly running back and forth to each other!

Stingdragon:

Basira and Daisy share an apartment at the ground floor and they have a very large dog that is very excited and barks a lot.

Chaotic Malicious:

Tim harassing the other tenants is great

Stingdragon:

Georgie is the only one standing between Jon and Melanie to keep it from turning into an all out war.

Chaotic Malicious:

SHDHAHDHSHD

Stingdragon:

Would... the avatars belong in our silly apartment complex?

Chaotic Malicious:

yes :)

Stingdragon:

Jude Perry organizing the yearly cook out.

Helen is the landlord of course! Only renting out apartment to the weirdest clients that comes knocking. Just for fun.

The old landlord, Michael, left. Something about a fall from a balcony. The details are unclear.

Chaotic Malicious:

AHSHAHDHHSDH OH NO

Stingdragon:

There might have been an old lady involved!

Horizon:

Galaxy brain take: Michael is Helen's deadname

Stingdragon:

Mike Crews has the apartment on the top floor. His weird old uncle comes to visit ever so often. They always enjoy their meals on the balcony. No matter what weather.

Chaotic Malicious:

Oliver lives in the basement but constantly goes up to visit Mike no I do not take any form of constructive criticism

Stingdragon:

We do not talk about the Prentiss incident. She is out now and her old apartment thoroughly sanitized and rebuilt.

WELL!

Naturally!

Oliver and Mike accidentally dropped a space ship model from the window up there once. It smashed Peter's car.

Chaotic Malicious:

THE FUCKING SNORT I DID!

Stingdragon:

Dominguez lives on the same floor as Sasha and Tim. They sometimes visit her to prod at her for details about her work. During one of these visits they might have all been having some wine. The whole complex was blacked out for hours!

Nikola always have visitors over. A lot of visitors and friends! Never the same people twice though....

Gerry has the other top floor apartment. Where he has a nice studio and a very cozy bedroom. He has books that are all nice and funny to read that lifts his spirits. He has large windows that let's in the light so well that he can paint without trouble. He is healthy and happy and have all the nice things in life that he can wish for. His mother has a restraining order.

Chaotic Malicious:

His mother will have a missing person's case if she messed with Gerry

Stingdragon:

Gertrude is his mom now.

Chaotic Malicious:

Good

Stingdragon:

Oliver can swear that he hears someone else living in the basement, but they never ever show. Which is odd because the only other room down there except the storage space and the laundry room is this room that on paper looks to be a tiny box of a room. Though someone is at least tending to the flowerbeds outside. They are always freshly freed from weeds and the soil perfectly balanced with nutrition and manure.

Let's see.... Who else is there.

OH!

Chaotic Malicious:

Breekon and Hope

Stingdragon:

Annabelle!!

Hmmmm

Oh Breekon and hope are the only two that comes to visit Nikola on the regular!

Chaotic Malicious:

Shshdhshd everyone just squints at them when they show up

Stingdragon:

I don't know what to go for with Annabelle.

I can't picture her living there.

But coming around at weird times whenever something truly crazy happens

Chaotic Malicious:

She visits and no one knows why and it scares them

Stingdragon:

People in the complex starts seeing it as an omen when they spot Annabelle there!

Her car in one of the parking spots one day when Jon looks out. He ducks back inside and quickly packs a bag and goes to visit his grandmother for the rest of the weekend!

Where does Martin fit into all of this?

Well... he was just handed his new keys by Helen.

Chaotic Malicious:

DHSHFHHS Martin just vibes

Stingdragon:

He is just now moving in!

POV character to the show!

Have I forgotten any of the fears?

Hm... well... The flesh.

Chaotic Malicious:

DHDHSHD jared lives in the dumpster and sustains himself on rats

Stingdragon:

Him and Trevor sharing the dumpster though!!

Chaotic Malicious:

and they were dumpstermates /j /lh

Stingdragon:

Oh my god. They were dumpstermates.

[brvdleymilligan]

HLO slinks in thru a bead curtain.......... truly sry this took me so long to concoct bt i’m here now, hand on hip, smiling coyly at u all...... i’m nai n i’m rly excited to b here so i’ll just dive right in!! u can find bradley’s pinterest board here n her muse tag here. like this or hmu for plots!

[ cis female, she/her, margaret qualley , twenty-four ] i can’t be sure, but i think i just saw BRADLEY MILLIGAN drive onto the parkway. don’t they know we’re not supposed to be driving on that haunted road right now? maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re so +RESILIENT and -VOLATILE that makes them feel UNPHASED about everything going on. i guess we could also chalk it up to the fact that they’re always reminding me of LEMON IN A FRESH CUT, THE AMBER BLINK OF AN ANGRY ALLEY CAT, GRINNING WITH BLOOD ON YOUR TEETH. either way, i hope they get back safely. [ nai, she/her, 24, gmt ]

aesthetics: singeing a hole in your fishnets with the cherry of a menthol, spitting a pistachio behind the bar just to hear it ping off the nozzle top bottles, lemon in a fresh cut, a war torn poppy standing alone in an empty field, pressing thumbs to yellow bruises, stomping over flowerbeds when there’s a path right besides it, dangling over ledges just to feel your chest jolt, a snarling rottweiler that needs muzzling, limp feet poking out behind a door, ‘I PROMISE I DON’T BITE’ scrawled on a name tag, slapping a bald head in front of you at the cinema like it’s a bongo, not owning a single jacket that isn’t stolen, driving a stranger’s car down the wrong lane against the screaming traffic, hair more feral than a wolf cub and eyes smudgier than a coal mine.  

BACKGROUND:

ok SO. her father owns a strip club in crescent hill named no angels. it’s kind of.... a seedy establishment i won’t lie. hs a red glowing sign like it’s lighting up a window in amsterdam. cigarette butts floating in oil slick puddles outside. unsavoury characters crawling all over like rats in a sewer. despite this it’s a legitimate business on the surface of things n it does pretty well in trade. it’s like.... that place people warn u NOT to have ur bachelor party at unless u fancy urself the type tht willingly enters a lion’s den bt tht almost??? adds to the allure in a way??? ppl r like wow so sketchy it’s the thrill of a lifetime........ i mean run while u still can bt go off i guess

it isn’t Confirmed Public Knowledge bt it’s pretty heavily implied thru the rumour mill that bradley’s father is the head of a gang of rly............ Not Nice people. all the ppl that work for him u would hands down NOT want to run into in a dark alley. while things seem legitimate on the suface it’s pretty clear they’re into shady dealings n the townsfolk that suspect that would indeed b correct! the club’s a front for a drug business n they’re also washing n running counterfeit cash thru it. they probably also have their hands dipped into a few other local businesses to run their cash thru these too n keep it all seemingly by the books so nobody comes sniffing around. they even r friends with a member of local law enforcement that’s working w them for a cut so they honestly have all bases covered to keep things airtight n foolproof. perhaps a business in reed too which bradley oversees bt i haven’t given this Too Much thought as of yet??

so ya she’s grown up fairly local most of her life n would maybe be known around town as such.................. the milligans r certainly Interesting as far as families go so like. it honestly wldn’t surprise me if ppl nudge elbows when they see one of them coming n immediately walk in the opposite direction. just quite an intimidating presence...... they’re like caged animals where ur specifically instructed NOT to stick ur fingers between the bars bc they WILL bite

on a more personal note her dad is pretty much the worst human being alive n bradley hs like….. a lot of issues with herself as a result of years of toxicity n abuse

in terms of more family bkground info her mum’s name was alyssa n she vanished when bradley was 12. jst like…. into thin air. nothing. no note. zilch. gan! n when bradley asked her dad abt it his response was essentially “guess she didn’t love us enough to stay”. as bradley’s got older tho n become (without intention) more involved in the business side of things, it’s become pretty clear there was far more to the story.

(abuse tw) they had a horrible marriage n tony ws emotionally manipulative at the best of times, violent at worst, which didn’t help the fact tht alyssa ws struggling a lot w severe depression n rly just… not in the mindset to b dealing w anything else, even where motherhood ws concerned. bradley p much… would look after her a lot n they’d both b scared of her dad n it was just a whole unhealthy mess.

(death implied tw) anyway im rambling bt basically tony (bradley’s dad) gt wind of alyssa sleeping w men tht worked fr him n he just… got rid. bradley’s kind of worked out over the yrs tht her mum didn’t jst leave on her own accord n tht something must hav happened to her bt she’s too scared of her dad to ever directly accuse him

when her mum went all of her dad’s cruelty pretty mch got channelled straight onto her. it ws diluted between two before bt as u can probably imagine her upbringing was jst…. a steep downhill decline

(drugs implied tw) she learnt ways 2 deal w the incurring trauma bt they weren’t healthy ones at all! bsically jst. will do or take anything fr the distraction. chases a thrill like it’s the only way to remind her she’s alive. has absolutely no regard fr her own wellbeing n often gets other ppl in trouble too bc she’s so insatiably reckless

(hospitalisation tw) she hd….2 separate stints of psychiatric hospitalisation n she never tlks abt it. like ever. acknowledging she’s been vulnerable is her worst nightmare n bc of the way her dad raised her she always thinks any sign of struggling within herself is weakness. truly does…. not kno how to properly emotion

CUT TO!!!! the present. she’s currently living at the motel which is like. the least homely place she cld ever live rly but bradley loves making her life uncomfortable n doesn’t rly believe in growing sentimentally attached to anything if she cn help it <3 probably gets into arguments all the time w her neighbours it’s a whole thing.... atrocious at feeding herself has breakfasts frm the vending machine like her organs aren’t screaming fr vegetables.... plays music too loud n sometimes vanishes for days at a time without a word. she’s a lot.

i honestly feel like the murders haven’t rly phased bradley too hugely....... i won’t lie she probably genuinely is like. oh maybe it’s smthn to do w my dad. n just blinks the other way not rly that phased. on some subconscious level i think she rly just thinks........ death follows her wherever she goes n is like. this is just life for me! kind of depressing. holds her hand bt then screams n pulls away when she inevitably bites me.

PERSONALITY:

the kind of sour cherry only certain people have a taste for

once drank a bottle of whiskey, insisted she could still do a cartwheel and accidentally kicked an old man’s front tooth out in the process. proceeded 2 collapse into a flower bed and laugh so much abt it that she cried

barely takes anything seriously 50% of the time and is angry the other 50%

if she was a coffee she’d be black with five grains of sugar that you couldn’t taste until the last sip

(alcoholism tw) high functioning alcoholic. if u ever see her w a coffee cup u jst kno tht one sniff will confirm high alcohol percentage. honestly idk hw she does it her liver must b yellin

loyal to a point of fault. if she cares abt u (rare) and u murder a man in cold blood (not so rare in the broad scheme of bradley’s life) she’ll brawl anyone that says ur guilty

honestly wld probably fight a person over anything. sometimes she’ll jst be having a bad day n she’ll burst n take it out on whoever says the wrong thing. minefield!

has the worst luck in romance…. ever. ALL her past bfs hav been absolute beasts n as a result she has the ‘romance is dead n love is a lie’ mentality. definitely NOT a romantic. very cut n dry abt these things. sex is mostly just sex n she’d kind of scoff at anyone that wanted more from her

mostly wears stolen clothes from strangers and jackets that swamp her. huge chunky stomping boots with steel toe caps that would RLY bruise if they gave u a kick. hair is p much always a wild mess n she usually hs kind of smudgy/smoky makeup bcos apparently she’s allergic to combs and generally looking presentable… relatable content. the only time she rly looks put together is when she has to do something/go somewhere/see someone on behalf of her father....... he kind of uses her as a sort of. honey pot sometimes fr shit his gang get up to it’s like. not! a way u should ever utilise ur daughter but :/ i cannot stress enough how much i wna drop kick him in the neck

she’s v sarcastic. blunt. kind of has a habit of…. assessing a person n she’s quite perceptive bc she’s been trained to b by the way she always has to monitor her dad’s expression fr the slightest emotion change. she’s very confident n can p much mke a conversation out of whatever if she feels like it. independent too like she hs a bunch of (predominantly surface connection) friends bt she doesn’t care abt going out places alone n does this often. she’s probably kind of known around town bt itd b a 50/50 balance between bein known as intimidating n bein known as that one girl tht always gets into anarchy

likes: drunken snow angels that drag on so long they flirt with pneumonia, stealing cars, throwing watermelons off rooftops to watch them explode, shooting pedestrian’s with bb guns from hidden spots on rooftops. 

dislikes: telling the truth, tulips so yellow it’s like they’re gloating, playing music loud enough to fry your brain and serve it on a piece of toast, going home.

PLOTS:

someone tht works at the ‘no angels’ strip club?? either as a dancer or bartender or whtever. just a forewarning it’s probably gna b a pretty….. seedy and Not That Pleasant environment bc it’s like. a crime hotspot inevitably bc it’s a gang hangout so. ur chara wld truly be in fr a rollercoaster ride to say the least

(drugs tw) she deals coke fr her dad’s gang so perhaps ur muse buys off her

anyone….. she’s brawled in the past like. she’s literally a menace i cnt express this enough. wil jst randomly throw a drink in someone’s face fr no reason bc she’s bored. she’s probably pissed off 1000 diff ppl in 1000 diff ways. the possibilities r endless n i jst think tht’s a sexy prospect!

fwbs perhaps??? exes??? (probably ws a tumultuous relationship honestly bradley is. a handful...... it’s also rly not often she ties herself down tbh so this would maybe have to b discussed/be circumstantial/kind of rare)

mayb someone tht she met at an aa meeting when she hd to go fr a court mandated thing one time after bein arrested fr public indecency. i feel like there’s probably a rly expensive statue somewhere thts fancily sculpted n she like. did a flying kick n broke the dick of it off n gt arrested fr it

ppl she……. Goes Wild Goes Crazy w. truly jst the most self destructive person alive so anyone w a similar mindset wld b a hellish bt fun combination

on the contrary a gd influence cld b nice perhaps? like someone tht genuinely cares abt her n she jst doesn’t kno hw to compute it

maybe people who r her neighbours that live at the motel too??

OH it could b fun if ur muse runs or works at a local business maybe like. a bar? idk? n bradley n ur muse have developed a rapport bc she frequents the place n is................ a Character

um. honestly the world’s our oyster. hmu n we cn brainstorm if none of tht catches ur eye!

[brooklynislandgirl]

It Gets You Coming and Going: Of all moral dilemmas, what's one that truly stumps you and why? {ginglymostoma cirratum}

Questionable Quotes || Accepting The question is posed in so very Anakin a way that it almost hurts for simply existing. There’s layers built up between the syllables that only someone who knows him well enough can pick out, and only the very rare amongst them that can tell you where they came from. The deepest is the bedrock of his anxiety, that deep down he believes himself so unworthy that it’s compressed down into the core of him and become the basic foundation of the rest of his personality. Closer to the surface is the silt of fear that he’s said the wrong thing and has reached the tether of her seemingly infinite patience with him. That she’s finally going to snap and savage him with tooth and claw, glutting on the softness of his emotional state until all that is left is something that once resembled the bones of his resolve. And she knows she’s mixing metaphors here but that’s how she conceptualises the things about Anakin she can’t pin to a board and press under glass. Not that she would ever do that, she finds it horrifying and cruel, especially when not that proverbially long ago collectors would do that to living specimens, murdering them with chloroform. Ether. She keeps from curling her lip.

And maybe for those few precious seconds when she can feel his gaze sliding off her and back to the edge of the water, so extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, she empathises with him. Finds it easier to make this about wanting to view himself through the prismatic lens he’s made of her, where every fractured splinter can be compared to the raw emptiness that sometimes fills his own mind and pushes everything out of the way. So he can lose himself in his perceptions ~and she can tell, so easily, when he is sinking in the stream of Time, which is almost always~ and escape for just a little while from the weight of everything resting on too fragile shoulders.

It’s entirely possible, too, and dangerously so that she interprets a good many of their conversations this way, focuses the spotlight on Anakin rather than herself because the idea of introspection makes her a little queasy. That she herself hides behind all the preconceived notions that people have of her that she twists and bends herself to fit into because without them she would be as shapeless as the infinite void of the darkness that lingers at the very edge of the Horizon in the deepest umbral reaches.

And of course she would also never admit to maybe spending too much time dwelling on the reasons why the question wounds her as a means of putting emotional distance and actual thought far out of the way ~out of sight, out of mine. Because it is not the easiest thing to answer. In fact she isn’t sure there’s one that would capture intent as much as interpretation.

The problem with morality as it would be defined by most people is that it is an arbitrary system. An socio-artificial construct that puts a distinction between right and wrong, or good and bad behaviour. And much like consensual reality, the guidelines of such behaviour are dictated by people. And all people are fallible. Even the Holy Father, though he’s not supposed to be.

There are other factors to consider as well. Does he mean specifically as the question relates to Sleepers? Does he mean as it relates to the Awakened as they, master and apprentice, are? If they are speaking about the masses, then are there certain cultural borders they’re straying across? What is good for one group of society is clearly not very often understood by others and so what might be wrong or atrocious in belief may have mitigating circumstances if viewed outside of one’s own group. Then of course there’s the difference between an individual's moral dilemmas and ethical ones, which are similar but still vastly different. Not unlike the Traditions versus the Technocratic Union. And this is obviously not what Anakin means because he’s never seen the heated debates that often took a twist at the dinner table between herself and her brothers.

She wants to tell him, that of course, there’s all of these factors to be taken into consideration. Wants to ask him what he means ~specifically~ in regards to whose morals are being questioned and she knows too that by doing so she will somehow manage to trample his self-worth because he’ll judge himself as not having spoken clearly enough, slowly or carefully enough. That he did not adequately set up the scenario and thus given her something incomplete to work with. There will come a stunning display of beautiful if heartbreaking physical manifestations of that internal grief and she might actually expire from the grief of it all. And she isn’t being nasty about it, she isn’t mocking him in that breath of silence as she considers all of this.  It is something that she’s come to experience in the almost year that they have spent bound together by practice and...funnily enough...tradition. And she likes to think she knows Anakin this well by now, that however hard he tries to hide it, she will see.

She reaches into the bucket beside her and takes a hold of another chunk of meat and tosses it out across the murky water. It lands with a specific and yet sad little plop before disappearing below the surface. She watches the way his cigarette smoke rises up to wreathe around his curls a little wild tousled today. It’s a little ironic that she could see him as a dragon, and maybe there’s some Mokolé blood in his family tree, as much as there is shark in hers. But he’s still reserved enough that he doesn’t stick his converse down over the side of the decrepit little dock they’re on. To be fair, his legs are far longer, far too close to the dark, algae choked surface. He’s never had his calf nearly torn right off the bone and probably doesn’t need that experience. Not with his hand in the state it’s in, the way cold and weariness make his bones and joints ache with nothing to compensate for it.

And that’s the point where she realises that now she’s just stalling, letting herself drift along the paths of thought, further and further away from the question asked. So she breathes out a sigh and allows a soft curve settle to her lips that is neither exactly a smile or even a smaller grin. It’s something along the lines of patience made manifest, her natural inclination toward indulging Anakin, and it’s also...tired. The kind of thing that appears when she’s worked herself to the bone and hasn’t slept for days but continues to push herself until she’s at the exact point of inevitable collapse. And how often does she do that more and more these days. Doesn’t even try to make it to her room when he’s just as comfortable as his bed and far warmer even if it’s a slightly unhealthy symptom of his body’s attempt to keep his extremities in life-giving blood. She leans back, wiggling her toes out in front of her, though her legs are still covered by the broom-skirt she’s wearing, arms bracing herself from behind, slick and red, sure to leave prints she’ll have to clean up before they leave.  “I don’ t’ink dis really a fair question, Anakin. I mean... dere’s factors. A precise synt’esis would define culture as a body of ideas; norms, rules, standards, values, an’ beliefs. So dat different cultures would derefore have different moral an’ et’ical impact. An’ mebbe even between one generation an’ anoddah, like dem boomers an’ millennials. I mean, you an’ me are kinda li’dat too, as technically I’m a millennial an’ you’re Gen Z. Between all people dere’s dis enforced, learned social norm dat are symbolically an’ practically reinforced an’ referenced in displays dat signal adherence to any specific system. Now, I know ya no talk story about all kine people, ya specifically aks me ‘bout my own issue an’ I guess...” She trails off trying to regather herself. When she speaks again she does that thing she does when she thinks something is important enough to give him the best chance of understanding her, but that slows her speech, gives it a brittle edge.

“Even as hapa ~being half Hawai’ian~ my mother taught me about kuleana. Loosely translated it means “responsibility”. It’s dis concept of reciprocal relationships between the person who is responsible, an’ the things or persons they are responsible for. As Hawai’ians, we have a kuleana to our ‘aina, our land. To care for it and to respect it, and in return... the land has the kuleana to feed, shelter and clothe us. Through that relationship we maintain balance within society and with the natural environment. But you look at the world and everything is for sale, raped by greed and the need to consume. To conform. This... this is a sign of what my uncle’s people call the Apocalypse, but not like in disaster movies. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll tell you all about that.

“Another concept is...Pono. There’s no real translation for it, it’s a concept that incorporates many things. But many people use it to imply righteousness, but not like the way it’s used in society today. For us, anyway, it’s a very strong cultural and spiritual concept for a state of harmony and balance. So you can see how they relate? By accepting your kuleana and making sure you act on them in the right way, you are living pono. Living pono means to make a conscious decision to do the right thing in terms of self, others, and the environment. And we make no distinction between human and animal or plant, in that way.” She slants that hazel gaze toward him via one eye slitted open to make sure he’s following along.  “And I don’t mean that cutting down a tree is the same as say murder. But in a way, it is. You are killing something that was alive. You are taking its mana. If you do it with proper thanks and reverence, if you ensure that you are doing it sustainably, to feed yourself or build a shelter for your family, then you’re behaving within your kuleana. But clear-cutting an entire rain-forest so you can build a luxury golf-course and resort, displacing thousands and thousands of indigenous wild life and polluting the waters and destroying layers and layers of earth, not to mention the risk of exposing entire tribes of people who have no natural resistance to what are common, immunised illnesses? That is no different than slaughtering those very same lives in a far more expedient way. And I don’t know if you think I’m crazy, or if I am over-simplifying the tragedy that we as an entire world of people are creating and contributing to but you can see...the earth herself is restless. She is angry. And those throes of agony ~the global warming, the spirits crying out, the violence and disease...they are all symptoms of that anger, because people as a whole have lost their way. They trust too much in technology and in coping mechanisms that only breed more trouble...”

She’s momentarily lost in the weeds, but there’s no denying the passion in her voice as it trembles with pure and unbridled rage at society’s ills. And not just the ones that have landed on the Sleepers whom they are, in their own ways, charged with protecting, but the ones amongst their own kind and those of the others. “So I suppose, the dilemma I just cannot begin to understand is...with so much happening, and the world around us vanishing with every breath...why are we unable to reach an understanding. Why do we have to fight this war about whose mana is bigger, is better than someone else’s. And not just the Traditions ourselves. Our infighting is bad but we can typically talk things out. I specifically mean this war with the Technocrats. Their science isn’t doing much to improve lives these days and more and more people are looking for alternatives, for the Old Ways. Why not work with us instead of trying to kill or imprison us? Or why can’t some of us... Verbena and Dreamspeakers... some of you Euthanatos- why can’t we make a pact with the Wolfkin. Or the last of the lizard kings-” She glances askance at him a second time in a very playful and knowing fashion. Which is disturbing considering the nature of the remains in the ice chest she was tossing into the water just moments ago. “It isn’t like some of us hasn’t been busy keeping their kin fed. So I think just like the Traditions coming together, or the Technocrats forming their union, maybe it’s time we put political and spiritual beliefs to the side and just work together for the things we want. We’re all really trying to fight the same enemy, and I promise it isn’t you, and it isn’t me and it isn’t Bil..it isn’t any one person. There is evil out there. Real, terrifying evil. Take this guy. What he did to those kids...He was a disease. And like the healer I am and like...like the man you will some day become, we did what was right, for everyone.” Beth shudders then shakes her head.  “I don’t even know how to answer your question, or if I did. All I can say is...there’s no part of me that has any shame for the way I live my life, and therefore there’s no moral dilemma. But if one comes up, I promise you’ll be the first line of defense for my understanding and sanity.”

[i-write-and-therefore-i-am]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Two)

Ugh! It’s been 3 whole months since I updated this story! This one is a bit long, so maybe it will make up for that? Anywho, in addition to this being a bit of a doozy, it’s kind of a filler chapter, which I hate to do but there ya go. I’m feeling a bit wonky about this part, but make sure to let me know how you feel about it. I hope you enjoy! (P.S.--Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!)

Previous--Next--First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Warnings: I don’t see any here!

Word Count: 2076 (!!For WhY?? Why can’t I write this much for my courses??)

It had been a few months since that first meeting, and it had become second nature for you to stop by his bookshop on the way home from work. You were grateful that Aziraphale didn’t actually want to part with any of his precious volumes, or else your poor bank account would definitely suffer. Because the shop was essentially the best sort of library you could imagine, it was incredibly easy to find a book to read. And because Aziraphale was the nicest man you had ever met, he was more than happy to let you find a comfy old chair to park yourself in whilst you read said book. This was how most of your days went recently, and it was, in fact, how this particular day had begun.

The door clicked shut behind you with the pleasant sound of bells that you had grown so fond of. You were in a good mood—you’d gotten a major promotion at work, which meant that although you’d have to work a few more hours, you’d be doing things that you enjoyed and getting paid more for them. Aziraphale had, for some reason unbeknownst to you, planned to cook dinner for the both of you today. You’d objected, not wanting him to go through all of the trouble of having to close his shop early to get dinner ready by the time you got out of work, but he’d persisted.

               “It’s a special occasion, Y/N!”

               “What is?”

               “Being alive, of course!”

You’d known that there was something more, but you ignored it in favor of relishing in the cozy affection that washed over you at how adorable this man could be. He could find wonder in the most trivial thing, which never failed to put a smile on your face. Even recalling moments like that, as you were doing now, could lift your spirits.

You wandered around the shop, browsing the shelves for any new additions. Aziraphale’s shop had quickly become your safe haven—a place that you could go and just relax with a good book and not have to worry about anything else. Soon, you had come to associate that feeling with the man himself. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a very long time, and it was refreshing, in an odd way, to feel like a teenager again. This was something new and unexpected, and perhaps it was just what you needed. Your inner monologue was cut off by Aziraphale calling your name from across the room.

“Y/N! You’re here! Just in time, everything is ready.” You turn and smile at him but frowned when you caught sight of the old grandfather clock standing by the sales counter.

“Already? I only got here a few minutes ago,”

“Oh, I wanted it to be ready for when you got here, so I started early—”

“But I got here almost an hour before I normally do! How are you finished already?” A flash of something unidentifiable crossed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a charming smile.

“I must’ve forgotten to set the clock upstairs and started earlier than I had thought. A happy accident, no?” Again, the doubts in your mind vanished, and you found yourself grinning back at him. Ever the gentleman, he gestured for you to walk up the stairs in front of him. The smells coming from the second floor had drifted down slowly and were weaving themselves around you, making your mouth water in anticipation. When you got to the top of the staircase, Aziraphale darted around you to open the door to his flat.

Despite all the time that you had spent in his building over the past couple of months, you had never ventured up here. You doubted that you would even notice if you had—the flat had the same eccentric-yet-cozy feel to it that the bookshop did, except in the place of books there were hundreds of different knick-knacks. Some looked rather new, and others looked as though they had jumped straight out of a history book.

“This is where I live. Pardon the mess, I haven’t been able to find a good system of storing yet.” He started fiddling with a set of Russian dolls that were sitting on a side table but gave up as quickly as he started and turned back to you. You realized that he was waiting for you to say something.

“I love it. It’s…homey.” You smiled genuinely at him. In some ways, it felt more like home to you than anywhere else, but that was a revelation for another day. After a few seconds of slightly awkward standing, your stomach chose that exact moment to growl. Loudly.

“Where are my manners? You must be starving! Here, let’s get some food in you, alright?” He led you to his dining room, where you were immediately greeted with the most delicious-looking meal of your life.

“You made all of this for me?” You asked incredulously, not believing your eyes. The table in the center of the room was positively groaning under the weight of all the food Aziraphale had cooked. Somehow, every single one of your favorites had made it onto tonight’s menu, making your heart grow warm with the knowledge that Aziraphale listened to and remembered the things you told him. You looked up at his expectant face, feeling silly for getting so emotional over dinner.

“It’s wonderful, Aziraphale. Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear. Anything for you.” He moved to pull out the chair closest to you, indicating that you should sit down. “Shall we?”

Dinner was divine. The food you ate on that day was the best food you had ever, or would ever, eat, period. You insisted that Aziraphale was secretly a world-famous chef, an idea that he quickly shot down— “How on Earth could I be a world-famous chef in secret? Wouldn’t everyone know? It wouldn’t be much of a secret, Y/N.”—but you weren’t too sure. You ate more than your fill, but when Aziraphale suggested that the two of you end the night with a cup of cocoa by the fireplace, you couldn’t refuse.

And so, you found yourself sitting on Aziraphale’s worn tartan sofa, sipping the rich chocolate and staring into the flames. Aziraphale sat beside you, his cup resting nicely on his knee. Together you sat in comfortable silence for quite a while, giving you time to reminisce over the evening and, more importantly, your thoughts about the man who had orchestrated the whole thing.

You knew that you had developed a sort of crush on him, and it had become increasingly apparent in recent weeks. Your heart would pound harder the closer you got to his shop, and the second he would look up from his work and focus his attention on you, you could feel your cheeks start to burn. It was highly unlikely that he hadn’t noticed anything different about the way you acted around him, but you knew he was too kind to say something about it. The trouble was that the friendship you had built with him, the easy companionship that you found in each other, was too precious for you to risk losing it by telling him what you truly felt. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he only wanted you to be his friend, nothing more? Oh God, what if he was gay? You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but quickly looked away. Your anxiety was spiking, and you had to do something about it before—

“AZIRAPHALE!!” Both of you jumped, but thankfully most of your cocoa was gone so none of it spilled. Aziraphale was not so lucky, and he cursed as he looked down at his chocolate-covered lap.

“Damn!” You looked around for something to wipe it off with, but you couldn’t find anything. When you refocused on him, your brain short-circuited for a second. Aziraphale’s pants were now completely dry, with no chocolate on them whatsoever. He seemed to have gotten some on his hand though, because he had part of his pointer finger in his mouth, trying to suck the pain away. Loud footsteps were coming from the stairway outside the door of the flat, and you stared at each other in confusion.

The door was kicked off its hinges in the singular most dramatic entrance you could imagine. The strange man at the door seemed to be other worldly, like his very presence upended the balance of the Universe. Space rippled around him, giving one the impression that he was swaying back and forth, almost snakelike. He had the air of someone who was much much older than they appeared, which clashed atrociously with his spiked, modern haircut and his skintight jeans. It hurt your eyes just to look at him, but, like a car wreck on the M-25, you couldn’t look away. Somehow, even though he was wearing glasses the color of a black hole, you could tell that he was ignoring you entirely. You watched as he made his way to stand angrily in front of your friend. Aziraphale opened his mouth, but he was cut off.

“I’ve been calling you for day, you useless blob! I thought something had happened to you, Aziraphale! In case you’ve forgotten, we are in this together. If we fuck up, it will be the actual end of the world. I—who the Heaven is this?” The man turned to peer at you through his sunglasses, frowning as if you were a spot on the sofa, and not a living, breathing person sitting there instead. Suddenly he turned back to Aziraphale, so you could no longer see his face, but his body language changed drastically—he looked dangerous, like an animal ready to pounce. When he spoke his voice was mocking, dripping with derision.

“Really? You mean to tell me that this pathetic waste of space is what has you tied up? Didn’t you learn anything from the last time you tried it on with a mortal? I knew you were dense, Angel, but not stupid—” Aziraphale was up before your brain could process that he had moved at all. He was now standing toe-to-toe with the stranger, which would have looked unimpressive if Aziraphale had not been so obviously full of rage that it practically radiated off of him. The taller man looked down his nose at Aziraphale but said nothing.

“Don’t you ever speak about her in that filthy way again.” Where the tall man’s voice had been unsettling, Aziraphale’s was downright terrifying. You had never heard him sound so threatening, and you’d seen someone try to buy his first edition of Gutenburg’s Bible. It sent shivers down your spine, and your instincts kicked in. You rose from your seat, backing away from the escalating argument in front of you. The two men fought back and forth, and your heart sank further and further into the pit of your stomach. The night had started out so well, you had no idea when things had gone so wrong. You located your purse on the coffee table and picked it up, clutching it to your body.

“I’m going to leave now,” you tried, but to no avail. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were on the brink of tears. “I said, I’m going to leave now!”

That got their attention. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide when he saw you holding your purse, not to mention the way you seemed to be unconsciously cowering away from them. He reached out to you but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“Th-thanks for dinner. I have an early day tomorrow and I should really head home.” You turned to leave. Your hand was on the doorknob when you heard Aziraphale’s voice from behind you.

“Will I see you tomorrow, then?” Your shoulders tensed, and you had to bite your lip against the—completely ridiculous—tears that spring up at the careful hope you could hear. You took a deep breath, and without answering, opened the door and left the little shop.

From the street, you could hear a tremendous noise coming from the second story window, like something quite large and heavy being thrown against the ground. You shuddered because deep down, you didn’t know if the stranger had done it, or if Aziraphale, sweet, loving Aziraphale had. You walked faster.

Tag List:

@chelsdub, @a-hoe-for-vanya, @lordbeezyprinceofhell, @ohfortheloveofchuck

[girlmeetsliv3]

Yandere Types

Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, and vivid descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

These are the characteristics of each of the boys or their yandere types

Kim Namjoon 

      He was the devil incarnate, no doubt about it. Namjoon would have his mindset about you the moment your eyes met and the moment you decided to give him a soft smile your fate was sealed. Life was a game of chess, but a man of his wits and intellect found playing just one game far too boring. His tactics were guerilla warfare: he would attack you physically, emotionally, and mentally until you finally surrendered. He knew which strings to pull to get whatever he wanted and you could swear he was psychic with the foresight this man had.

      His punishments were the worst since he inflicted wounds that never healed. A snide comment here, a backhanded compliment, a string of insults whispered so softly and daringly into your ear. It was like a snake that slithered into your conscious and made you doubt everything about yourself; everything you knew true.

       Namjoon is a modern man and would be bored with a trophy wife so you would be someone intellectual but a bit naive. Probably younger, but mature for your age. He doesn't want a doll, he desires for you to be his equal. That doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy having you break your spine to please him quite the opposite really. Overall, if you find yourself in a relationship with this man or “in love” with him. Expect it to play out like all the greatest Shakespearean love stories: an ironic tragedy entirely avoidable but one that will go down in history.

Kim Seokjin

    If Kim Seokjin was the embodiment of anything it was vain and all the implications that word held. He was a beautiful man and knew how the world responded to that beauty. Knew the things he could get from weaponizing it and he often did just that. If his beauty was the weapon, his words were the artillery. That man could charm virgin Mary into his bed and possibly Joseph too. The power that beautiful people held was one often exploited by society; why should he behave any differently. Had he desired it he could rule the world, simply be controlling those that did.

      You were not as beautiful as him. Nowhere close. Seokjin would never date anyone who could rival him. Still, it was the way in which you held yourself, the way you knew of the power you also held that intrigued him. He had seen it in action various times. When you wanted something, you went from being the shy recluse in the back to something entirely different. All you had to do was straighten your back and part your lips slightly and suddenly the world was on its knees. Seokjin knew plenty of people that had this ability, but what interested him was how scarcely you used it. Only for insignificant things. But his curiosity turned to full-blown obsession once you refused him.

         He felt that you needed to learn to hone of your skills to properly utilize them entirely to your benefit (and his). However, you blatantly refused his advances and stated you were disgusted by individuals like him. Him? Disgusting? Oh, darling, you have no idea what you've done. Seokjin will go into power mode with his charms, but he'll do it with the purpose of turning everything and everyone against you. It works so well, even birds don't sing in proximity to you. When you finally succumb and beg him to stop, he agrees but not before he's the bed you and marked you as his for the world to see. There's no escape now.

Min Yoongi

       Everyone needs company even those who blame to despise it entirely. Yoongi saw the world around him as hopeless and doomed; the individuals who resided in it is the perfect example of this. He was aware of how the world worked: everybody is somebody's whore. Something to be used to achieve an end goal and then tossed aside when no longer necessary or gratifying. He too participated in this ritual for he had no choice. Being one of the elite held certain responsibilities and if he was entirely honest, he found the other side to be much worse. Isolation, desperation, and distress plague those that live there.

     If Yoongi where ever to be listed in the dictionary, you would be listed under antonym. It wasn't that you believed the world wasn't cruel, but that not all of it was. Not that people weren't used and abused, but not everyone. You believed that every human being had good in them and that is what separated them from animals. Yoongi believed that what made human beings animals is that they could often choose differently but they never did. When the two of you met, you found yourself in the midst of heated arguments more often than not. People around you had developed a nickname for the two of you: the hippie and the war veteran.

       Though to you, it was all in good fun and a way to openly communicate differences in a healthy way. The obsession Yoongi began to form with you was anything but healthy. He actively sought you out, looking for any reason to prove you wrong so that you could try to prove him wrong. Things escalated one night when he claimed that humans were entirely selfish and took whatever they wanted with little thought. When you disagreed, Yoongi proved you wrong by drugging you, taking you to his car, driving you to his house and locking you up so you could never escape.

Jeon Hoseok

      A wild card. This man can go from being an angel to falling down from the heavens in a matter of seconds. Hoseok is a smart man but doesn't see the point in wasting time with complicated plots and extreme forms of manipulation. He's old school. If you disobey him, Hoseok has no qualms about hitting you, breaking a few bones, or even permanently paralyzing you. He has suffered too much under the pressures of life and finds it unfair that others have not.

       You would likely come from a tragic background like him. However, you refused to learn. Refused to give up hope that a rainbow comes after the rain. Hoseok would see it as his responsibility to protect you, devote himself to you. He would be your knight in shining armor and defend you against the cruelties of the world at whatever cost. Even if that meant subjecting you to them so you would learn. All that could be handled if not for the fact that under that armor could be found a dragon hiding far more dangerous than the one you were being protected from.

        As an outgoing man, he would enjoy someone on the calmer side to balance him out. Hoseok grows attached extremely fast; it's more of imprinting than love - but don't you dare tell him that. Unfortunately for him, every bone in your body could be broken but never your resilience. Meaning that even if you never escape, you'll never truly belong to him. Unless of course, external force your hand.

Park Jimin

     Appearances can be so deceiving. Park Jimin looks like a giant ball of fluff and acts like one too. He's that elementary crush you had on the boy who was extremely nice to everyone and everyone seemed to like; up until you realized he wasn't actually all that nice. You'd always know of him. His looks and talents always gave him a spot among the elite in school and life, but he also knew of you. Though his voice might be quieter and softer pitched, his body was crafted meticulously. You were also aware of his reputation as a ladies man or a man's man whenever it piqued his interest.

          The two of you would never outright approach each other, it was fate that was responsible for bringing the two of you together and all the tragedy that ensued. As polite as you attempted to be at the beginning the bluntness of your personality created a riff. It wasn't until the project both of you were working on got more complex that things began to develop. After spending so much time together, it became clear that there was something between the two of you. Neither could really pinpoint what it was, not until an argument the two of you had about the presentation; which resulted in you being bent over a table, wrists trapped as Jimin attacked your lips. You agreed to go on a date because you assumed the man might realize the lack of chemistry between both of you.

    The exact opposite happened. Every time you bickered with each other, he assumed that it was because there was so much passion it couldn't be helped. When he asked you what kind of movie you wanted and the response was, “anything that isn't romantic”, he’d taken it to mean that no love story could ever live up to your own. The date had been a failure, but the second you walked onto campus the next day everyone was talking about Park Jimin's new girl - their words weren't all that nice. Putting up with Jimin was a lot easier said than done: the man followed you around more than your imaginary friend had when you were six. Finally, after a month, you had enough and marched straight into Jimin's apartment to end things with him. That day you learned that for as much light as someone may seem to possess there must always be a balance. You weren't able to walk or wear short-sleeved shirts for two weeks, but it was okay because now you were stuck by his side and would never leave him. The ends would always justify the means.

Kim Taehyung

       Peculiar was the perfect word to describe Kim Taehyung; perhaps it was even made for him. His peculiar actions and behavior often drove others to distance himself from him, but not you. He eventually learned to disguise his stranger impulses and how to appear like a normal part of society. It also helped that the older he got the more handsome he became. People are willing to overlook the most atrocious things if they are done by beautiful people. None of that ever mattered to him though, he was content living in his own little bubble - with you of course.

      Being a little strange yourself, you were attracted to Taehyung from a young age. It was more of a child's curiosity and your parents have taught you that everyone deserves a friend. You became his friend instantly. His only friend. He didn't care for the outside world or what it thought of him, but your opinion and affection was worth everything. He would always be glued to your side and more often than not it felt like the two of you shared a soul. Something you wanted to severe when his odd habits were exposed. Something he would never allow.

       Despite everything, he could always be pacified - unless you tried to leave him. Then you would find yourself dealing with a man so crazed, nothing would seem extreme to him. You were his and he was yours. In life and death. Rest assured that if the first one didn't work out he wouldn't hesitate to attempt the latter. Taehyung would never lock you inside forever, he wanted you to live and love the way you had before. Wanted everything to be the same as it was before; with the added benefit of you sharing not only his heart but bed. For the sake of you and everyone you love, submitting to this crazed man is the best option out there. If you don't well, don't say you weren't warned.

Jeon Jungkook

   A God among mere mortals and he behaved that way. Nothing existed above him: no societal standard, no law, no moral. He was the embodiment of them. It was he who was responsible for exerting his will over the world, and the world seemed quite fine with that. There were words that didn't exist in his vocabulary, but the most recognizable one was “no.” That was a word that could never be uttered in his presence or God bless your soul. Actually, considering who he was, Jungkook bless your soul. The man held no regard for those that lived under his rule and took pleasure in torturing them whenever he was bored. Not that it was very entertaining as they were far too eager to please most of the time. You, however, were not.

       It must always be noted that it is the atypical maiden that captures the god's attention and that the events that ensue are anything but sweet. Maybe it was because you always spoke your truth, you didn't believe yourself to be superior to anyone, and you looked him in the eyes when you spoke. Though it was probably because you were the first to utter that infamous word to him. Had you been anyone else, he might have had your head. But it was the way in which you said it, with no rude intent, that had the man obsessing over you for weeks. There is a negative thing to be said about gods and that is that they can be quite delusional. Jungkook believed you were trying to play a game of cat and mouse. That whenever you would glance at him, smile politely, and wave you were truly confessing your love to him. Jungkook being the gracious man that he was accepted your confession and began a relationship with you - entirely without your knowledge.

     You would realize soon, however. When wherever you looked he was there. Whenever you needed something only he could provide it. When a nice transfer student had asked you out to lunch and he ended up in the back of an alleyway dead. God's will should never be tested and there was little you could do to refuse. If you attempted to escape, he would trap you in his home permanently. Trying to resist would result in your loved ones being threatened. He was not against beating the resistance out of you. Besides, all you needed was him. It was he that allowed you to live, to love, to experience things; all through him. God was inescapable and not even death will do you part.

[flying-elliska]

HS Reunion AU pt. 2

Elu future! fic pt. 2/? This one is in Eliott’s POV. Not the reunion yet but we’re getting there !

MERCREDI 2:30, 27/06/30

Eliott can’t sleep. Next to him, Lucas is hogging most of the bed as usual, doing his best impression of a drunken starfish. His breathing is a little on the loud side, but it’s never disturbed Eliott. If anything, it grounds him. It’s like his own  little white noise machine, except more cuddly.

His own tendency to wake up at night used to scare him, but he’s learned to work around it. He doesn’t immediately jump to conclusions anymore. He just makes sure that he goes to bed early enough and that his overall schedule stays steady. And when it occasionally does happen, he’s learned to occupy himself, not to stay alone with his thoughts in the dark. This is often his most creative time, now.

He kisses his husband’s forehead softly before getting up, as silently as possible, and makes his way to their shared working room. Lucas needs his sleep. Eliott is actually a bit worried - these last few weeks, as the date of the high school reunion started to loom closer, he’s clearly been stressed out. He hasn’t seen his husband’s pricklier side this much in quite some time. It’s never something he directs at Eliott either, but he has been going on an abnormally high number of oddly specific rants against his colleagues, the news, and the Parisian public transport system. Not that it’s in anyway deserving of praise, but still.

As his computer boots up, Eliott is considering working a little on the scenario for his next project, but he’s suddenly struck by the need to go check on some of his old files.

It’s still there. Polaris.

As he was applying to film school, he’d tried to go back to it, but it hadn’t worked out, and he had even less luck the next times he tried. It didn’t just exist in his head anymore ; it was something that belonged to him and Lucas. He didn’t want to show it to other people. It had become too intimate, too charged.

It still feels like the most special thing he’s ever done. But…They’ve been together for more than ten years now. And they have so many other memories to build off from, so many memories that are so uniquely theirs. Nobody will ever know the private details of those moments. So maybe he could finally bring this to life, as a celebration instead of a pure expression of yearning. As a recognition of how important it was and still is.

And he has so many talented people around him now. One of his friends has been experimenting with a new way of capturing light on film, that gives this surreal glow to everything to the point where they can work with dust motes and flow… Well, the point is, he’s not alone anymore, and he’s got experience now, enough to make his lonely teenage self’s vision into something solid and beautiful.

Isn’t that what he has done with his life, against all odds ?

He grabs his graphic tablet and archives his latest project - something about giant mythical beasts ambling through the city at night with old school techniques like models, shadows and cut paper - to sketch some new storyboards. He’s got a whole new lease on how to do angles and transitions now. He wants to incorporate a flashlight, a moment of flickering where boundaries are blurred and everything hangs in the balance. Scary, but magical. Those are the moments of transformation, where most important things happen in life.

He gets so lost in the process he doesn’t even notice Lucas entering the room until he has sneaked in and rested his chin on Eliott’s shoulder.

“Polaris, huh ?

- Yeah.

- You gave your creature hair this time,” Lucas mumbles.

Eliott stares at his latest drawing. It’s true. Short fuffy hair standing up, a little bit like a spiky puff. He laughs softly. He’s never going to find an actor with eyes the right kind of blue.

“Of course I did. Well, that’s fine. I’m drawing from memory now anyway”

Lucas muffles a noise in Eliott’s shirt, half-yawn half-embarassed protest.

“You married a filmmaker, babe. Did you honestly believe you would escape being a little bit of a muse someday ?

- Shit, I can’t with you. How are you still so romantic at 4 in the morning ?”

Eliott laughs and keeps drawing, Lucas wrapped around his back and watching as the grey light of pre-dawn slowly fills the room through the curtains.

After a while, Lucas whispers :

“How’s the weather, my love ?”

It’s their way of checking in with each other, developped after many mishaps. In the years after they first got together, Lucas was so worried about him at times it lead to several breakdowns in communication, the worst of it culminating in a six-months break when they were in their second year of university. He was never patronizing or smothering, like his first girlfriend Lucille. But he had a tendency to go overboard when caring for others, neglecting his own health and studies. He knows, now, that Lucas was overcompensating for his past, desperately trying to extend the love and care he’d sorely missed himself. But at the time, Eliott hated the way it made him feel like a burden.

They’ve come a long way since then, feeling around in the dark past clumsiness and shame and earnest mistakes, to a place of deep honesty and comfort.

“It’s okay, I think. Mostly sunny, a few rain showers. Probably rainbows. Might take an umbrella. What about you ?

- Cloudy with a chance of meatballs ?

Eliott snorts.

- Does that mean I’m finally getting pasta ?

Lucas groans.

- You’re lucky I love you so much, because that was the most atrocious movie reference I have ever heard.

- I’m sorry, but seriously, this HS reunion thing is kinda freaking me out.”

There’s a moment of silence. Eliott gives him time to come forward.

“It’s like…our lives are great now. But when I think about the past, there’s this insecurity that comes up like…it makes no sense. I’m out, I’m happy, I have my own family. But it’s still there.

- I get it. I’m an award winning director with an amazing, beautiful husband who’s well on his way to eradicate the most awful virus known to mankind. Life is good. But those people, they knew us when we were vulnerable and completely unfinished…I feel like the moment I step back in that courtyard, I’ll be that weird kid again, who failed his bac twice and created all that drama and isn’t right in the head. Because that’s what they’ll remember me as. The more I’ll see it in their eyes, the more true it will become again.”

He feels Lucas flinch against him at his harsh words, and unfold his arms to wrap them around Eliott’s waist, squeezing him tight.

- I...don’t want you to feel like that, Lucas says. And me, I just...well, those weren’t my proudest moments. I still feel it’s important that we go, I just...it’s weird how much this is affecting me.

- It’s going to be fine, my love, Eliott continues. We can deal with a few flashbacks. I know I’m at a place in life when I can face it now. Yeah we were a mess, back then. I wouldn’t relive it for the world. But we owe so much to those kids we used to be, you know ? They got us here, and they had nobody to guide them a lot of the time. They deserve us to be proud of them, even if they weren’t proud of themselves. And I mean. Meeting you was magic. The rest was all worth it, only for that.”

At that, Lucas leans forward to kiss him, softly, before bumping their cheeks together softly.

- We really did all that, huh, Lucas muses. Man, we were a bunch of truly brave little morons.

- Yeah, we were. Eliott laughs softly as he keeps sketching. Makes for great cinema, though.

[grigori77]

2018 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10.  BLACK PANTHER – remember back in 1998, when Marvel had their first real cinematic success with Blade?  It was a big deal on two fronts, not just because they’d finally made a (sort of) superhero movie to be proud of, but also because it was, technically, the first ever truly successful superhero movie starring a black protagonist (the less said about the atrocious Steel movie the better, I say).  I find it telling that it took them almost twenty years to repeat the exercise – there have been plenty of great black superheroes on-screen since Wesley Snipes rocked the fangs and black leather, especially in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but they’ve always been in supporting roles to the main (so far universally WHITE) stars (the now-cancelled Luke Cage was a notable exception, but that’s on-demand TV on Netflix). All of this makes the latest feature to glide smoothly out of the MCU mould so significant – the standalone star vehicle for Civil War’s OTHER major new success story (after 2017’s Spider-Man: Homecoming), Prince T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) of Wakanda, finally redresses the balance … and then some. Picking up pretty much RIGHT where the third Captain America film left off, we see T’Challa return to the secretive, highly-advanced African kingdom of Wakanda to officially take up his new role as king and fully accept the mantle of protector of his people that his role as the Black Panther entails. Needless to say, just as he’s finally brought peace and unity to his homeland, an old threat reappears in the form of thuggish arms dealer and fugitive-from-Wakandan-justice Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis, gleefully returning to his blissful scenery-chewing Avengers: Age of Ultron role), leading T’Challa to travel to Busan, South Korea to bring him back for judgement, but this is merely a precursor to the arrival of the TRUE threat, Erik “Killmonger” Stevens (Michael B. Jordan), a mysterious former Special Forces assassin with a deeply personal agenda that threatens Wakanda’s future.  This marks the first major blockbuster feature for writer/director Ryan Coogler (co-penning the script with The People V. O.J. Simpson writer Joe Robert Cole), who won massive acclaim for his feature debut Fruitvale Station, but also has good form after sneaky little sleeper hit Rocky-saga spinoff Creed, so this progression ultimately just proves to be another one of those characteristic smart moves Marvel keeps making these days. Coogler’s command of the big budget, heavy-expectation material is certainly impressive, displaying impressive talent for spectacular action sequences (the Busan car chase is MAGNIFICENT, while the punishing fight sequences are as impressively staged and executed as anything we saw in the Captain America movies), wrangling the demanding visual effects work and getting the very best out of a top-notch ensemble cast of some of the finest black acting talent around.  Boseman brings more of that peerless class and charisma he showed in Civil War, but adds a humanising dose of self-doubt and vulnerability to the mix, making it even easier for us to invest in him, while Coogler’s regular collaborator, Jordan, is absolutely spell-binding, his ferociously focused, far-beyond-driven Killmonger proving to be one of the MCU’s most impressive villains to date, as well as its most sympathetic; Oscar darling Lupita Nyong’o is far more than a simple love interest as tough and resourceful Wakandan intelligence agent Nakia, The Walking Dead’s Danai Gurira is a veritable force of nature as Okoye, the head of the Dora Milaje, Wakanda’s elite all-female Special Forces, Get Out’s Daniel Kaluuya muddies the waters as T’Challa’s straight-talking best friend W’Kabi, and powerhouse veteran actors Angela Bassett, Forest Whitaker and John Kani provide integrity and gravitas as, respectively, T’Challa’s mother Ramonda, Wakandan religious leader Zuri and T’Challa’s late father T’Chaka.  Martin Freeman and Andy Serkis have joked that they’re essentially the “Tolkien white guys” of the cast, but their presence is far from cosmetic – Freeman’s return as Civil War’s bureaucratic CIA agent Everett Ross is integral to the plot and also helps provide the audience with an accessible outsider’s POV into the unique and stunning land of Wakanda, while Serkis is clearly having the time of his life … and then there are the film’s TRUE scene-stealers – Letitia Wright is a brilliant bright ray of sunlight as T’Challa’s little sister Shuri, the curator of Wakanda’s massively advanced technology and OFFICIALLY the most intelligent person in the MCU, whose towering intellect is tempered by her cheeky sense of humour and sheer adorability, while Winston Duke is a towering presence throughout the film as M’Baku, the mighty chief of the reclusive Jabari mountain tribe, despite his relatively brief screen time, his larger-than-life performance making every appearance a joy.  This has been lauded as a true landmark film for its positive depiction of African culture and presentation of a whole raft of strong black role models, and it certainly feels like a major step forward both culturally and creatively – it’s so rewarding to see a positively-charged black intellectual property enjoying the almost ridiculous amount of success this film has so far enjoyed, both critically and financially, and it’s something I hope we see far more of in the future.  Like its predecessors, this is a fantastic superhero movie, but under the surface there are some very serious, challenging questions being asked and inherently powerful themes being addressed, making for a deeper, more intellectual film than we usually receive even from a big studio that’s grown so sophisticated as Marvel. That said, this IS another major hit for the MCU, and a further example of how consistently reliable they’ve become at delivering great cinema.  Very nearly the best of the Phase 3 standalone films (that honour still belongs to Captain America: Civil War), and it was certainly a spectacular kickoff for the year’s blockbusters.

9.  BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY – I’ve been waiting for this movie for YEARS.  Even before I knew this was actually going to happen I’d been hoping it would someday – Queen were my introduction to rock music, way back when I was wee, so they’ve been one of my very favourite bands FOREVER, and Freddie Mercury is one of my idols, the definition of sheer awesomeness and pure talent in music and an inspiration in life.  Needless to say I was RIDICULOUSLY excited once this finally lurched into view, and I’m so unbelievably happy it turned out to be a proper corker of a film, I could even tentatively consider it to be my new favourite musical biopic. Sure, it plays fast-and-loose with the historical facts, but remains true to the SPIRIT of the story, and you know what they say about biographical movies and their ilk: “if it’s a choice between the truth and the legend, print the legend.”  That’s a pretty good word to describe the man at the centre of this story – Queen frontman Freddie Mercury truly was a legend in his own lifetime, and watching the tale of his rise to fame alongside fellow musical geniuses Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon is a fascinating, intoxicating and deeply affecting experience, truthful or not, making the film an emotional rollercoaster from the humble beginnings with the formation of the band, through the trials and tribulations of life on the road and in the studio, the controversies of Mercury’s personal life and the volatile personal dynamics between the group themselves, to the astonishing, show-stopping climax of their near-mythic twenty-minute performance slot at 1985’s Live Aid charity concert at Wembley Stadium.  Needless to say it takes a truly astounding performance to capture the man that I consider to be the greatest singer, showman and stage-performer of all time, but Mr Robot­ star Rami Malek was equal to the task, not so much embodying the role as genuinely channelling Mercury’s spirit, perfectly recreating his every movement, quirk and mannerism to perfection, right down to his famously precise, deliberate diction, and he even LOOKS a hell of a lot like Mercury.  Sure, he’s come under fire for merely lip-syncing when it comes to the music, but seriously, there’s no other way he could have done it – Freddie had the greatest singing voice of all time, there’s NO WAY anyone could possibly recreate it, so better he didn’t even try.  (Honestly, if he doesn’t get an Oscar for this there’s no justice in the world.)  Malek’s not the only master-mimic in the cast, either – the rest of the band are perfectly portrayed, too, by Gwilym Lee as May, X-Men: Apocalypse’s Ben Hardy as Taylor and Joe Mazzello (yup, that kid from Jurassic Park, now all grown up) as Deacon, while there are equally strong supporting turns from Sing Street’s Lucy Boynton as Mercury’s lover and lifelong friend Mary Austin, Aiden Gillen as the band’s first manager John Reid, Tom Hollander as their lawyer and eventual manager Jim “Miami” Beach, Allen Leech as the Freddie’s scheming, toxic personal manager Paul Prenter, and New Street Law star Ace Bhatti as his stoic but proud father, Bomi Bulsara.  This is an enthralling film from start to finish, and while those new to Queen will find plenty fo enjoy and entertain, this is an absolute JOY for fans and geeks who actually know their stuff, factual niggles notwithstanding; it’s also frequently laugh-out-loud HILARIOUS, the sparky, quick-fire script from The Theory of Everything and Darkest Hour writer Anthony McCarten brimming with slick one-liners, splendid put-downs and precision-crafted character observation which perfectly captures the real life banter the band were famous for.  The film had a troubled production (original director Bryan Singer was replaced late in the shoot by Dexter Fletcher after clashes of personality and other difficulties) and has come in for plenty of stick, receiving mixed reviews from some quarters, but for me this is pretty close to a perfect film, chock-full of heart, emotional heft, laughter, fun and what was, for me, the best soundtrack of 2018, positively overflowing with some of the band’s very best material, making this one of the very best times I had at the cinema all year.  They were, indeed, the champions …

8.  MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT – while Bond may remain king of the spy movie, and Jason Bourne still casts a long shadow from the darker post 9-11 age of harder, grittier espionage shenanigans, I’ve always been a BIG fan of the Mission: Impossible movies.  This love became strong indeed when JJ Abrams established a kind of unifying blueprint with the third film, and the series has gone from strength to strength since, reaching new, thrilling heights when Jack Reacher writer-director Christopher McQuarrie crafted the pretty much PERFECT Rogue Nation.  He’s the first filmmaker to return for a second gig in the big chair, but he’s a good fit – he and star Tom Cruise have already proven they work EXTREMELY well together, and McQuarrie really is one of the very best screenwriters working in Hollywood today (well respected across the board since his early days co-writing The Usual Suspects), an undeniable MASTER at both crafting consistently surprising, thoroughly involving and razor-sharp thriller plots and engineering truly JAW-DROPPING action sequences (adrenaline-fuelled chases, bruising fight scenes, intense shootouts and a breathless dash across the rooftops of London all culminate in this film’s standout sequence, a death-defying helicopter dogfight that took the prize as the year’s BEST action beat), as well as penning some wonderful, wry dialogue.  Anything beyond the very simplest synopsis would drop some criminal spoilers – I’ll simply say that Ethan Hunt is faced with his deadliest mission to date after a botched op leaves three plutonium cores in the hands of some very bad people, leading CIA honcho Erica Sloane (a typically sophisticated turn from Angela Bassett) to attach her pet assassin, August Walker (current big-screen Superman Henry Cavill), to the team to make sure it all runs smoothly – a prospect made trickier by the resurfacing of Rogue Nation’s cracking villain Solomon Lane (Sean Harris).  Tom Cruise is, of course an old hand at this sort of thing by now, but even so I don’t think he’s EVER been more impressive at the physical stuff, and he delivers equally well in the more dramatic moments, taking superspy Ethan Hunt to darker, more desperate extremes than ever before.  Cavill similarly impresses in what’s easily his meatiest role to date, initially coming across as a rough, brutal thug but revealing deeper layers of complexity and sophistication as the film progresses, while Rebecca Ferguson makes a welcome return from RN as slippery, sexy and very complex former MI6 agent Ilsa Faust, and it’s great to see Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg back as series keystones Luther Stickell and Benji Dunn, who both get stuck into the action far more than in previous outings (Benji FINALLY gets to wear a mask!); Jeremy Renner’s absence this time could disappoint, but the balance is maintained because the effortlessly suave Alec Baldwin’s new IMF Secretary Alan Hunley gets a far more substantial role this time round, while Sean Harris tears things up with brutal relish as he expands on one of the series’ strongest villains – Lane is a thoroughly nasty piece of work, a monstrous zealot with a deeply twisted but strangely relatable agenda, and method man Harris mesmerises in every scene.  McQuarrie has cut another gem here, definitely his best film to date and likewise the best in the franchise so far, and strong arguments could be made for him staying on for a third stint – this is the best shape Mission: Impossible has been in for some time, an essentially PERFECT textbook example of an action-packed spy thriller that constantly surprises and never disappoints, from the atmospheric opening to the unbearably tense climax, and if ever there was a film to threaten the supremacy of Bond, it’s this one.

7.  THE SHAPE OF WATER – one of the most important things you have to remember about my own personal mythology (by which I mean the mishmash of 40 years of influences, genre-love and pure and simple COOL SHIT that’s informed and moulded the geek I am today) is that when it comes to my fictional heroes, I have a tendency to fall in love with the monsters.  It’s a philosophy shared by one of my very favourite directors, Guillermo Del Toro, whose own love affair with the weird, the freakish and the outcast has informed so much of his spectacular work, particularly the Hellboy movies – the monster as a tragic hero, and also the women who love them despite their appearance or origins.  Del Toro’s latest feature returns to this fascinating and compelling trope in magnificent style, and the end result is his best work since what remains his VERY BEST film, 2007’s exquisite grown-up fairytale Pan’s Labyrinth.  Comparisons with that masterpiece are not only welcome but also fitting – TSOW is definitely cut from the same cloth, a frequently dream-like cinematic allegory that takes place in something resembling the real world, but is never quite part of it.  It’s a beautiful, lyrical, sensual and deeply seductive film, but there’s brooding darkness and bitter tragedy that counters the sweet, Del Toro’s rich and exotic script – co-authored with Hope Springs writer Vanessa Taylor – mining precious ore from the fairytale ideas but also deeply invested with his own overwhelming love for the Golden Age of cinema itself.  This makes for what must be his most deeply personal film to date, so it’s fitting that it finally won him his first, LONG OVERDUE Best Director Oscar. Happy Go-Lucky’s Sally Hawkins thoroughly deserves her Oscar nomination for her turn as Elisa Esposito, a mute cleaning woman working in a top secret aerospace laboratory in Baltimore at the height of the Cold War, a sweet-natured dreamer who likes movies, music and her closeted artist neighbour Giles (the incomparable Richard Jenkins, delivering a performance of real sweetness and integrity). One night she discovers a new project in the facility, a strange, almost mythic amphibious humanoid (Del Toro regular Doug Jones) who has been captured for study and eventual vivisection to help create a means for men to survive in space.  In spite of his monstrous appearance and seemingly feral nature, Elisa feels a kinship to the creature, and as she begins to earn his trust she develops stronger feeling for him – feelings which are reciprocated.  So she hatches a plan to break him out and return him to the sea, enlisting the help of Giles, her only other real friend, fellow cleaner Zelda (The Help and Hidden Figures’ Octavia Spencer, as lovably prickly and sassy as ever), and sympathetic scientist (and secret Soviet agent) Dr. Robert Hoffstetler (a typically excellent and deeply complex performance from Boardwalk Empire’s Michael Stuhlbarg) to effect a desperate escape.  The biggest obstacle in their path, however, is Colonel Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), the man in charge of security on the project – the rest of the cast are uniformly excellent, but the true, unstoppable scene-stealer here is Shannon, giving us 2018’s BEST screen villain in a man so amorally repellent, brutally focused and downright TERRIFYING it’s absolutely impossible to take your eyes off him – who has a personal hatred for the creature and would love nothing more than to kill it himself. He’s the TRUE monster of the film, Jones’ creature proving to be a noble being who, despite his (admittedly rather bloody) animal instincts, has a kind and gentle soul that mirrors Elisa’s own, which makes the seemingly bizarre love story that unfolds so easy to accept and fulfilling to witness.  This is a film of aching beauty and immense emotional power, the bittersweet and ultimately tragic romance sweeping you up in its warm embrace, resulting in the year’s most powerful and compelling fantasy, very nearly the finest work of a writer/director at the height of his considerable powers, and EASILY justifying its much-deserved Best Picture Oscar.  Love the monster? Yes indeed …

6.  DEADPOOL 2 – just as his first standalone finally banished the memory of his shameful treatment in the first X-Men Origins film, Marvel’s Merc With a Mouth had a new frustration to contend with – Wolverine riding his coattails into the R-rated superhero scene and outdoing his newfound success with the critically acclaimed and, frankly, f£$%ing AWESOME Logan.  It’s a fresh balance for him to redress, and bless him, he’s done it within the first five minutes of his own very first sequel … then again, Deadpool’s always at his best when dealing with adversity.  There’s plenty of that here – 2016’s original was a spectacular film, a true game-changer for both Marvel and the genre itself, unleashing a genuinely bankable non-PC superhero on the unsuspecting masses (and, of course, all us proper loyal fans) and earning one of their biggest hits in the process.  A sequel was inevitable, but the first film was a VERY tough act to follow – thankfully everyone involved proved equal to the task, not least the star, Ryan Reynolds, who was BORN to play former special forces operative-turned invulnerable but hideously scarred mutant antihero Wade Wilson, returning with even greater enthusiasm for the material and sheer determination to do things JUST RIGHT.  Working with returning co-writers Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, he’s suitably upped the ante while staying true to the source and doing right by the fans – the script’s another blinder, a side-splitting rib-tickler liberally peppered with copious swearing, rampant sexual and toilet humour, genuinely inspired bizarreness (a grown man with baby balls!) and an unapologetically irreverent tone nonetheless complimented by a f£$%load of heart. Original director Tim Miller jumped ship early in development, but the perfect replacement was found in the form of David Leitch, co-director of the first John Wick movie, who preceded this with a truly magnificent solo debut on summer 2017’s standout actioner Atomic Blonde.  Leitch is a perfect fit, a former stuntman with innate flair for top-notch action who also has plenty of stylistic flair and strong talents for engaging storytelling and handling a cast of strong personalities.  Reynolds is certainly one of those, again letting rip with gleeful comic abandon as Deadpool fights to overcome personal tragedy by trying to become a bona fide X-Man, at which he of course fails SPECTACULARLY, winding up in a special prison for super-powered individuals and becoming the unlikely and definitely unwilling protector of teenage mutant Russell Collins, aka Firefist (Hunt for the Wilderpeople’s Julian Dennison), who’s been targeted for assassination by time-travelling future warrior Cable (Josh Brolin) because he’s destined to become a monstrous supervillain when he grows up.  Deciding to listen to his “better” angel, Wade puts together his own superhero team in order to defeat Cable and start his own future franchise … yup, this is as much a platform to set up X-Force, the Marvel X-Verse’s next big money-maker, as it is a Deadpool sequel, but the film plays along to full comic effect, and the results are funny, explosive, blood-soaked and a magnificently anarchic joy.  Brolin is every inch the Cable we deserve, a world-weary, battered and utterly single-minded force of nature, entirely lacking a sense of humour but still managing to drive some of the film’s most side-splitting moments, while Atlanta star Zazie Beets, originally something of an outsider choice, proves similarly perfect for the role of fan favourite Domino, a wise-cracking mutant arse-kicker whose ability to manipulate luck in order to get the better of any situation makes her a kind of super-ninja; Dennison, meanwhile, is just as impressive as he was in HFTWP, turning in a performance of such irreverent charm he frequently steals the film, and the return of Stefan Kapicic and Briana Hildebrand as stoic metal-man Colossus and the world’s moodiest teen superhero, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, mean that the original X-Men get another loving (if also slightly middle-fingery) nod too.  But once again, this really is Reynolds’ movie, and he’s clearly having just as much fun as before, helping to make this the same kind of gut-busting riot the first was with his trademark twinkle, self-deprecating charm and shit-eating grin.  He’s the heart and soul of another great big fist up the backside of superhero cinema, blasting tropes with scattergun abandon but hitting every target lined up against him, and like everything else he helps make this some of the most fun I had at the pictures all year.  I honestly couldn’t think of ANYTHING that could make me piss myself laughing more than this … the future of the franchise may be up in the air until the first X-Force movie gets its time in the spotlight, but Reynolds, Leitch, Reese and Wernick are all game to return, so there’s plenty of life in the un-killable old lady yet ...

5.  BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE – my Number One thriller of 2018 is a cult classic in the making and the best work yet from Drew Goddard, co-writer/director (with Joss Whedon) of Cabin in the Woods (one of the best horror movies ever made, in my opinion) and screenwriter of Cloverfield and The Martian.  It’s an intoxicating, engrossing and somewhat unsettling experience (but in a very good way indeed), a gripping, slippery and absolutely FIENDISH suspense thriller to rival the heady best of Hitchcock or Kubrick, and, as his first completely original, personal creation, Goddard’s best opportunity to show us JUST what he’s truly capable of.  Wrapped up in multi-layered mystery and deftly paying with timelines and perspective, it artfully unveils the stories of four disparate strangers who book a night’s stay at the El Royale, a “bi-state” hotel (located on the California/Nevada border) that was once grand but, by the film’s setting of 1969, has fallen on hard times.  Each has a secret, some of which are genuinely deadly, and before the night’s through they’ll all come to light as a fateful chain of events brings them all crashing together.  Giving away any more is to invite criminal spoilers – suffice to say that it’s an unforgettable film, fully-laden with ingenious twists and consistently wrong-footing the viewer right up to the stirring, thought-provoking ending.  The small but potent ensemble cast are, to a man, absolutely perfect – Jeff Bridges delivers one of the best performances of his already illustrious career as seemingly harmless Catholic priest Father Daniel Flynn, Widows’ Cynthia Erivo makes a truly stunning impression as down-on-her-luck soul singer Darlene Sweet, John Hamm is garrulously sleazy as shifty travelling salesman Seymour Sullivan, Dakota Johnson is surly but also VERY sexy (certainly MUCH MORE than she EVER was in the 50 Shades movies) as “dirty hippy” Emily, Lewis Pullman (set to explode as the co-star of the incoming Top Gun sequel) is fantastically twitchy as the hotel’s troubled concierge Miles, and Cailee Spaeny (Pacific Rim: Uprising) delivers a creepy, haunting turn as Emily’s fundamentally broken runaway sister Rose.  The film is thoroughly and entirely stolen, however, by the arrival in the second half of Goddard’s Cabin leading man Chris Hemsworth as earthy, charismatic and darkly, dangerously seductive Charles Manson-esque cult leader Billy Lee, Thor himself thoroughly mesmerising as he swaggers into the heart of the story (particularly in a masterful moment where he cavorts, snake-hipped, to the strains of Deep Purple’s Rush in the lead-up to a brutal execution).  This is thriller-cinema at its most inspired and insidious, a flawless genre gem that’s sure to be held in high regard by connoisseurs for years to come, and an ELECTRIFYING statement of intent by one of the best creative minds working in Hollywood today.  One of 2018’s biggest and best surprises, it’s a bona fide MUST-SEE …

4.  AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR – is it possible there might be TOO MUCH coming out all at once in the Marvel Cinematic Universe right now?  What with THREE movies a year now becoming the norm, not to mention the ongoing saga of Agents of SHIELD and various other affiliated TV shows (it seems that Netflix are culling their Marvel shows but there’s still the likes of Runaways and the incoming Cloak & Dagger on other services, along with fresh, in-development stuff), could we be reaching saturation?  My head says … mmmmm … maybe … but my heart says HELL NO!  Not when those guys at Marvel have gotten so good at this job they could PROBABLY do it with their eyes closed.  That said, there were times in the run-up to this particular release that I couldn’t help wondering if, just maybe, they might have bitten off more than they could chew … thankfully, fraternal directing double act Antony and Joe Russo, putting in their THIRD MCU-helming gig after their enormous success on the second and third Captain America films, have pulled off one hell of a cinematic hat trick, presenting us with a third Avengers film that’s MORE than the equal of Joss Whedon’s offerings.  It’s also a painfully tricky film to properly review – the potential for spoilers is SO heavy I can’t say much of ANYTHING about the plot without giving away some MAJOR twists and turns (even if there’s surely hardly ANYONE who hasn’t already seen the film by now) – but I’ll try my best.  This is the film every die-hard fan has been waiting for, because the MCU’s Biggest Bad EVER, Thanos the Mad Titan (Josh Brolin), has finally come looking for those pesky Infinity Stones so he can Balance The Universe by killing half of its population and enslaving the rest, and the only ones standing in his way are the Avengers (both old and new) and the Guardians of the Galaxy, finally brought together after a decade and 18 movies.  Needless to say this is another precision-engineered product refined to near perfection, delivering on all the expected fronts – breathtaking visuals and environments, thrilling action, the now pre-requisite snarky, sassy sense of humour and TONS OF FEELS – but given the truly galactic scale of the adventure on offer this time the stakes have been raised to truly EPIC heights, so the rewards are as great as the potential pitfalls.  It’s not perfect – given the sheer size of the cast and the fact that there are THREE main storylines going on at once, it was INEVITABLE that some of our favourite characters would be handed frustratingly short shrift (or, in two notable cases, simply written out of the film altogether), while there are times when the mechanics of fate do seem to be getting stretched a little TOO far for credibility – but the niggles are largely overshadowed by the rich rewards of yet another MCU film done very well indeed. The cast (even those who drew the short straw on screen time) are all, as we’ve come to expect, excellent, the veterans – particularly Robert Downey Jr. (Iron Man/Tony Stark), Chris Hemsworth (Thor), Mark Ruffalo (Bruce Banner/the Hulk), Chris Evans (Steve Rogers/Captain America), Benedict Cumberbatch (Doctor Stephen Strange), Chris Pratt (Peter Quill/Star Lord), Zoe Saldana (Gamora), Bradley Cooper (Rocket Racoon), and, of course, Tom Holland (Peter Parker/Spider-Man) – all falling back into their well-established roles and universally winning our hearts all over again, while two characters in particular, who have always been reduced to supporting duties until now, finally get to REALLY shine – Paul Bettany and Elizabeth Olsen, as the Vision and Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, finally get to explore that comic-canon romance that was so prevalently teased in Civil War, with events lending their mutual character arcs particularly tragic resonance as the story progresses … and then there’s the new characters, interestingly this time ALL bad guys. The Children of Thanos (Gamora and Nebula’s adopted siblings, basically) are showcased throughout the action, although only two really make an impression here – Tom Vaughan-Lawlor is magnificently creepy as Ebony Maw, while Carrie Coon (and stuntwoman Monique Ganderton) is darkly sensual as Proxima Midnight … but of course the REAL new star here is Brolin, thoroughly inhabiting his motion capture role so Thanos GENUINELY lives up to his title as the greatest villain of the MCU, an unstoppable megalomaniac who’s nonetheless doing these monstrous things for what he perceives to be genuinely right and moral reasons, although he’s not above taking some deeply perverse pleasure from his most despicable actions. Finishing up with a painfully powerful climax that’s as shocking as it is audacious, this sets things up for an even more epic conclusion in 2019’s closer, and has already left even the most jaded viewers shell-shocked and baying for more, while the post-credits sting in particular had me drooling in anticipation for the long-awaited arrival of my own favourite Avenger, but in the meantime this is an immensely rewarding, massively entertaining and thoroughly exhausting cinematic adventure. Summer can’t come fast enough …

3.  UPGRADE – in a summer packed with sequels (many of them pretty damn awesome even so), it was a great pleasure my VERY FAVOURITE movie was something wholly original, an unaffiliated standalone that had nothing to follow or measure up to.  But Blumhouse’s best film of 2018 still had a lot riding on it – they’re a studio best known for creating bare-bones but effectively primal horror (even The Purge series is really more survival horror than dystopian thriller), so they’re not really known for branching out into science-fiction.  Going with one of their most trusted creative talents, then, was the kind of savvy move we’d expect from Jason Blum and co – Leigh Whannell is best known as the writer of the first three Saw movies (a fully-developed trilogy which I, along with several others, consider to be the series’ TRUE canon), the film phenomenon that truly kicked off the whole “torture porn” sub-genre, but he’s become one of Blumhouse’s most well-regarded writers thanks to his creation of Insidious, still one of their biggest earners.  Once again he wrote (and co-starred in) the first three films, even making his directorial debut on the third – admittedly that film wasn’t particularly spectacular, but there was nonetheless something about it, a real X-factor that definitely showed Whannell could do more than just write (and, act, of course).  Second time out he’s definitely made good on that potential promise – this is a proper f£$%ing masterpiece, not just the best thing I saw all summer but one of THE TOP movies of my cinematic year.  It’s also an interesting throwback to a once popular sci-fi trope that’s been overdue for a makeover – body horror, originally made popular by the cult-friendly likes of David Cronenberg and Paul Verhoeven, and the biggest influence on this film must to be the original Robocop.  Prometheus’ Logan Marshall-Green is an actor I’ve long considered to be criminally overlooked and underused, so I’m thrilled he finally found a role worthy of his underappreciated talents - Grey Trace, an unapologetically analogue blue-collar Joe living in an increasingly digital near future, a mechanic making his living restoring vintage muscle cars who doesn’t trust automated technology to run ANYTHING, so his life takes a particularly ironic turn when a tragic chain of events leads to his wife’s brutal murder while he’s left paralysed from the neck down.  Faced with a future dependent on computerised care-robots, he jumps at the chance offered by technological pioneer Eron Keen (Need For Speed’s Harrison Gilbertson), creator of a revolutionary biochip called STEM that, once implanted into his central nervous system, can help him regain COMPLETE control of his body, but in true body horror style things quickly take a dark and decidedly twisted turn.  STEM has a mind of its own (and a voice that only Trace can hear), and an agenda, convincing him to use newfound superhuman abilities to hunt down his wife’s killers and exact terrible, brutal vengeance upon them. There are really strong performances from the supporting cast – Gilbertson is great as a twitchy, socially awkward genius only capable of finding real connection with his technology, Get Out’s Bettie Gabriel is subtly brilliant as Detective Cortez, the cop doggedly pursuing Trace’s case and, eventually, him too, and there’s a cracking villainous turn from relative unknown Benedict Hardie as sadistic but charismatic cybernetically-enhanced contract killer Fisk – but this is very much Marhall-Green’s film; he’s an absolute revelation here, his effortlessly sympathetic hangdog demeanour dominating a fantastically nuanced and impressively physical performance that displays truly exceptional dramatic AND comedic talent.  Indeed, while it’s a VERY dark film, there’s a big streak of jet black humour shot right through it, Whannell amusing us in particularly uncomfortable ways whenever STEM takes control and wreaks appropriately inhuman havoc (it helps no end that voice-actor Simon Malden has basically turned STEM into a kind of sociopathic version of Big Hero 6’s Baymax, which is as hilariously twisted as it sounds), and he delivers in spades on the action front too, crafting the year’s most wince-inducing, downright SAVAGE fight sequences and a very exciting car chase. Altogether this is a simply astonishing achievement – at times weirdly beautiful in a scuzzy, decrepit kind of way, it’s visually arresting and fiendishly intelligent, but also, much as we’d expect from the creator of Saw and Hollywood’s PREMIER horror studio, dark, edgy and, at times, weirdly disturbing – in other words, it’s CLASSIC body horror.  Whannell is a talent I’ve been watching for a while now, and it’s SO GOOD to finally see him deliver on all that wonderful promise. Needless to say it was another runaway hit for Blumhouse, so there are already plans for a sequel, but for now I’m just happy to revel in the wonderful originality of what was the very peak of my cinematic summer …

2.  SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE – oh man, if ever there was a contender that could have ousted this year’s Number One, it’s this, it was SUCH a close-run thing.  Sure, with THREE major incarnations of Marvel’s most iconic superhero already hitting the big screen since the Millennium, we could AGAIN ask if we really need another Spider-Man “reboot”, but I must say his first ever blockbuster animated appearance leaves virtually all other versions in the dust – only Sam Raimi’s masterpiece second Spider-feature remains unbeaten, but I’ve certainly never seen another film that just totally GETS Stan Lee’s original web-slinger better than this one.  It’s directed by the motley but perfectly synced trio of Bob Perischetti (a veteran digital artist making his directorial debut here), Peter Ramsay (Rise of the Guardians) and Rodney Rothman (writer on 22 Jump Street), but the influence of producers Christopher Miller and Phil Lord (creators of The Lego Movie) is writ large across the entire film (then again, Lord did co-write the script with Rothman) – it’s a magnificent, majestic feast for the eyes, ears and soul, visually arresting and overflowing with effervescent, geeky charm and a deep, fundamental LOVE for the source material in all its varied guises.  Taking its lead from the recent Marvel comics crossover event from which the film gets its name, it revolves around an unprecedented collision of various incarnations of Spider-Man from across the varying alternate versions of Earth across the Marvel Multiverse, brought together though the dastardly machinations of criminal mastermind Wilson Fisk, aka Kingpin (a typically excellent vocal turn from Liev Schreiber) and his secret supercollider.  There are two, equally brilliant, “old school” takes on the original web-slinger Peter Parker on offer here – Chris Pine impresses in his early scenes as the “perfect” version, youthful, dashing and thoroughly brilliant but never ruining it by being smug or full of himself, but the story is dominated by New Girl’s Jake Johnson as a more world-weary and self-deprecating blue-collar version, who can still do the job just as well but has never really been as comfortable a fit, and he’s all the more endearing because he’s SUCH a lovable slacker underdog.  The main “hero” of the film, however, is Dope’s Shameik Moore as Miles Morales, a teenager who’s literally JUST acquired his powers but must learn FAST if he’s to become this universe’s new Spider-Man, and he’s a perfect lead for the film, unsure of himself and struggling to bring his newfound abilities to bear, but determined to find his footing all the same.  There are other brilliant takes on the core character here – Nicolas Cage’s wonderfully overblown monochrome Spider-Man Noir is an absolute hoot, as is anthropomorphised fan-favourite Spider-Ham (voiced by popular stand-up comic John Mulaney) – and a variety of interesting, skewed twists on classic Spider-Man villains (particularly Liv, a gender-bent take on Doctor Octopus played by Bad Moms’ Kathryn Hahn), but my favourite character in this is, tellingly, also my very favourite Marvel web-slinger PERIOD – Earth-65’s Spider-Woman, aka Gwen Stacy (more commonly known as Spider Gwen), an alternative version where SHE got bit by the radioactive arachnid instead of Peter, very faithfully brought to life by a perfectly cast Hailee Steinfeld.  It may sound overblown but this is about as close to perfect as a superhero movie can get – the script is an ASTONISHING piece of work, tight as a drum with everything lined up with clockwork precision, and instead of getting bogged down in exposition it turns the whole origin story trope into a brilliant running joke that keeps getting funnier each time a new character gets introduced; it’s also INSANELY inventive and a completely unique visual experience, specifically designed to look like old school comic book art brought to vivid but intriguingly stylised life, right down to the ingenious use of word-bubbles and textured printing dots that add to the pop art feel.  This is a truly SPECTACULAR film, a gloriously appointed thrill-ride with all the adventure, excitement, humour and bountiful, powerful, heartbreaking emotional heft you could ever want from a superhero movie – this is (sorry MCU) the VERY BEST film Marvel made in 2018, and maybe one of their very best EVER.  There’s already sequel talk in the air (no surprise there, of course), and I can’t wait to see where it goes.  PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me a Spider Gwen spinoff.  I’ll be good, I swear …

1.  A QUIET PLACE – the most unique and original film of 2018 was a true masterpiece of horror cinema and, for me, one of the best scary movies I’ve seen in A VERY LONG TIME INDEED. It’s a deceptively simply high-concept thriller built around a dynamite idea, one that writer/director/star John Krasinski (co-writing with up-and-coming creative duo Bryan Woods and Scott Beck) has mined for maximum effect … Krasinski (still probably best known for the US version of The Office but now also gaining fresh traction for killer Amazon Original series Jack Ryan) and his real life wife Emily Blunt are Lee and Evelyn Abbott, a mother and father who must protect their children and find a way to survive on an isolated farm in a world which has been decimated by an inexplicable invasion/infestation/whatever of mysterious and thoroughly lethal creatures that, while blind, use their incredibly sensitive hearing to hunt and kill ANYTHING that makes a sound.  As a result, the Abbotts have had to develop an intricately ordered lifestyle in order to gather, scavenge and rebuild while remaining completely silent, a discipline soon to be threatened by Evelyn’s very advanced pregnancy … there’s a truly fiendish level of genius to the way this film has been planned out and executed, the exquisitely thought-out mechanics of the Abbotts’ daily routines, survival methods and emergency procedures proving to be works of pure, unfettered genius – from communication through sign language and slow-dancing to music on shared headphones to walking on pathways created with heaped sand and painted spots to mark floorboards that don’t squeak, playing board games with soft fruit instead of plastic pieces and signalling danger with coloured light-bulbs – while the near total absence of spoken dialogue makes the use of sound and music essential and, here, almost revolutionary, with supervising sound editors Erik Aadahl and Ethan Van der Ryn becoming as important as the director himself, while composer Marco Beltrami delivers some of his finest work to date with a score of insidious subtlety and brazen power in equal measure.  The small but potent cast are all excellent – Blunt has rarely been better in a performance of impressive honesty and a lack of vanity comparable to her work on The Girl On the Train, affecting and compelling as a fierce lioness of a mother, while Krasinski radiates both strength and vulnerability as he fights tooth and nail to keep his family alive, regardless of his own survival, and their real-life chemistry is a genuine boon to their performances, bringing a winning warmth to their relationship; elsewhere, deaf actress Millicent Simmonds (Wonderstruck) effortlessly captures our hearts as troubled, rebellious daughter Regan, delivering a performance of raw, heartbreaking honesty, while Suberbicon’s Noah Jupe impresses as awkward son Marcus, cripplingly unsure of himself and awfully scared of having to grow up in this terrifying new world.  There’s great power and heart in the family dynamic, which makes us even more invested in their survival as the screws tighten in what is a SERIOUSLY scary film, an exquisitely crafted exercise in sustained tension that deserves to be remembered alongside the true greats of horror cinema.  Krasinski displays a rare level of skill as a director, his grasp of atmosphere, pace and performance hinting at great things to come in the future, definitely making him one to watch – this is an astonishing film, a true gem I’m going to cherish for a long time to come.

[gracie383]

Last Week

Wow!! Time really flew by! I can’t believe that this is the last week here in Spain! This will be my second-to-last blog post (the last one will be post-return). For me, the purpose of this blog post will be to make sure that I’ve covered all my bases and given all advice that I think is necessary for would-be travelers. In previous blogs, I’ve talked mostly about culture shock, transportation (both international and local), and my experience living with a host family. Therefore, this post will cover three main topics: 1) budgeting while traveling, 2) Spanish foods/drinks, and 3) balancing academics with tourism.  

1) Budgeting: Oh my G-d… the first advice I have about budgeting: actually have one!! I came to Spain thinking that I would just spend and spend, and if I go “over-budget,” I’ll just work extra hours when I come home to make up for it. Hahahaha no. I have spent so much money that I’ll probably only break even this summer. I’ve bought 25 souvenir gifts for family/friends and sent out 15 post-cards. I lost track of the clothes, souvenirs, foods, and drinks I bought for myself.

I ran the numbers this morning, and it’s atrocious. I have spent over $1000 USD in three weeks. This does not include train tickets or baggage fees. This was just money that I mindlessly spent on food, drinks, clothes, and gifts. Even worse, I don’t regret anything I’ve bought. I can list every material good I purchased, and none of it was overpriced- the one time I bought a cute dress for $30 USD, I spent two weeks mulling it over before buying it.

If you are traveling on a budget, you actually have to budget. Buying a $3 gelato doesn’t sound like much, but if you buy one every day for a month, that’s $90. If you send 15 postcards, and don’t consider the cost of postage ($8 for 5), then you wind up spending $40 on nothing but paper. An $8 mojito every Friday/Saturday night for four weeks adds up to $70. So to recap, indulging in gelato, postcards, and mojitos costs $200. It isn’t hard to see how I spent $1000.

I recommend downloading a wallet app to keep track of everything you spend. I have my bank text me every time I make a purchase, but it’s not like I frequently scroll through my texts to keep track of everything. Plan to spend 2x as much as you think and download a wallet app.

2) Spanish foods/drinks: I did not do very much research on Spanish food before I came here. Like most other people on the trip, I assumed it was all paella, churros, and sangria. It’s so much more than that.

Spanish food is very different from American food- there’s much less spice/sauce and more variety in the actual foodstuffs. For example, a salad in America usually consists of lettuce, croutons, cheese, and a heaping of fatty dressing. Meanwhile, a Spanish salad will have lettuce, tomatoes, hard-boiled egg, onions, and maybe a sprinkling of olive oil. Since the vegetables are fresh from the market, it tastes delicious even without dressing. I’ve never liked plain salad before coming here, but I get it now.

Another thing that’s very unique about Spanish food is that there’s practically no spice (as in burn-in-your-mouth spicy). I actually started to have some minor stomach problems around week two- I was so used to my diet of peppers, hot sauce, and curry that I was struggling in a country where pepper (as in salt and pepper) is considered spicy. I asked my host mom for advice, and she bought a bottle of hot sauce at the market. It was very clearly “hot sauce” since it was labeled pica pica and had two peppers on the label… but it was easily the mildest hot sauce I’ve ever had in my life. My mouth didn’t burn up at all and I used 1/4 of the bottle. I’m not complaining, though- my stomach problems stopped almost immediately, so I assume the hot sauce really did contain hot peppers.

For the rest of Spanish food, there’s honestly too much to go into to write about it in this blog. There’s 2000 years of culture in this food and it’s all unique to Spain. I’ll just list them here, and if you’re interested, you can do some research yourself: Paella Valenciana - Gazpacho - Patatas bravas - Tortilla Española - Jamón - Croquetas - Albondigas - Churros - Arroz con huevo - Empanadas de Atún - Gelato - Crema de Zucchini - Tostadas.

Spanish drinks are relatively quick to describe. Juice is fresh-squeezed (especially orange juice) and rarely processed. Coffee is called “café” and is made torrefacto-style rather than natural. Tea is not super popular here, but it’s still very easy to find. In restaurants, water is given in bottles and charged for, so you have to ask for “agua grifo” to get free water. But since restaurants make their profit from drinks (food is cheap here), it’s polite to get a drink. Some popular drinks here are cerveza, tinto de verano, and sangria. If you’re like me and semi-addicted to energy drinks like RedBull and Monster, you can find them here at most corner-marts, although they’re not all that popular. I recommend trying the “Burn” energy drink- they’re unique to Europe and taste like a sweet Monster.

3) Balancing academics with tourism: … Just do it. Don’t daydream- pay attention in class. Don’t procrastinate- do homework immediately. Don’t wait until the night before the test to study- review class materials daily. If you succeed in schools in America, you will succeed in schools while studying abroad. If you don’t, you won’t. It’s that simple.

I thought the “language barrier” would be more complicated, but if you’re studying abroad, it’s likely that you already comprehend more of the language then you think you do. I recommend watching some Spanish movies and tv shows before leaving so you get used to listening to people talk in Spanish, but that’s all the prep you really need to do before stepping foot in a classroom.

As for “balancing” between academics and tourism, it hasn’t been a problem. Most of my afternoons were “free time” which I could use for studying. Weekend trips were fun and exciting, but they usually involved a 2-3 hour bus ride. I get motion sickness, so I couldn’t do anything but listen to audiobooks and stare straight ahead, but quite a few people did homework on the bus. I’m pretty sure I’m going to end the semester with an A, but I still had time to go to Madrid, Sevilla, El Puerto de Santa Maria, Granada, Tarifa, Bolonia, Vejer de la Frontera, and Caminito del Rey. Some girls even made time for Rota and Cordoba.

These weekend trips were truly unforgettable. I took pictures, bought souvenirs, smiled a lot, laughed like crazy, and had a wonderful time. I saw Guernica, El Catedral de Sevilla, a winery, and the Alhambra. I swam in the Mediterranean Sea, climbed a mountain, and walked through Roman ruins. I learned how to surf, cook paella, and dance salsa. And I did all of this while working hard in my classes.

Since this is my last week here, I’ll end with some final thoughts. Writing about everything I’ve done in Spain has helped me to remember how much I truly love this country. I’ve written at length about my homesickness and culture shock, but at the end of the day, I really did have an amazing time.

I plan to incorporate more Spanish food into my diet back home, and I want to travel more when I have the time/resources to do so. My Spanish speaking skills have improved, and I feel like I have a broader perspective on the world.

Honestly, I’m not ready to leave yet. There’s still so much that I haven’t seen and experienced yet. I want to go flamenco dancing, explore Barcelona, meet a cute Spanish boy, and finally drink a cubalibre (hopefully not all at the same time, but actually these could all be at the same time lol).

This is what I will do when I come back to Spain. I’m looking forward to returning to America, because I miss my family, but I know I will return here someday. :)

[remainseatedatalltimes]

And the decade ends with a...

So concludes another year, and with it, another decade as well.  Now, I wish I could sit here and reflect on what a game-changing, exhilarating and revolutionary year 2019 was in the world of cinema.  But I can’t.  In fact, in my 8 years of writing this one time annual blog, there has never been a year that was as insipid as this past year was.  So much so, that unlike in previous years where I have always started this blog highlighting some of the greats of the year that was, this year I’ve decided to start with the bottom of the barrel. But don’t fret, there are a few glasses of the good stuff left.  Not many, but a few.  

To set the scene, my least favourite film of 2019 is a movie (and no, it’s not the one you’re thinking of), that will likely go on to be nominated for several Academy Awards in just a few short weeks’ time.  And it should be nominated. There is plenty to praise about this film.  But incredible performances, stylish directing and a story centered around one of the most fascinating events in modern history does not always a good film make.  Not when it’s told in such an obnoxious, pretentious and self-indulgent way.  So, to kick things off, I present to you, my least favourite film of 2019 – Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.

I should say straight off the bat that I am only a moderate fan of Quentin Tarantino’s work.  I love his film knowledge and his passion for making unique, and also highly nostalgic films.  But I’m also a firm believer that storytelling is at the heart of great cinema, and I often feel Tarantino sacrifices storytelling for brilliant, but often bloated camerawork and cinematography.

I had high hopes for Once Upon A Time In Hollywood however.  This was Tarantino working with an incredible cast, telling an original story set within one of Hollywood’s most infamous eras – and when the wonderfully retro and charming trailer dropped, I couldn’t have been more excited. This should have been the perfect canvas for Tarantino to shine.  

But instead, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is a frustratingly tedious, hedonistic film that almost feels like it’s mocking its audience with its in-jokes and smarmy blurring of lines between real events and fiction.  In just shy of 3 hours, Tarantino essentially conveys 3 things: actors are self-doubting creatures that need constant re-assurance (no surprise); Hollywood is a game of relationships where not rocking the boat is paramount (again, no surprise – most industries are the same); and that shocking audiences is apparently very easy when you take a non-fiction story and completely change the ending (1 plus 1 equals 7).  I know what you’re thinking.  How can that possibly make for a near 3 hour film?  Well, I refer you back to Paragraph 2 of the Remain Seated At All Times Tumblr blog post titled “And the decade ends with a....”, where I stated that this film is “obnoxious, pretentious and self-indulgent”.  Just like that entire last sentence is superfluous…well…you get the point.

So to prove that moving on once you’ve made a point IS achievable, let me then proceed to the other atrocity of 2019:  Roadkill.  Sorry. I mean, Cats.

Now before anybody jumps up and down and complains that a movie that is – in fact – so much worse than Once Upon A Time In Hollywood isn’t my worst film of 2019, I offer you this one short piece of commentary.  Cats is the kind of epic, unequivocal, indescribable disaster that actually transcends awful into a place of almost fascination and reverence.  You know what I mean.  Like watching a YouTube video of someone mixing paint. You know it’s ridiculous to sit there and watch it – but you can’t look away.  You’re transfixed.  And I will take that over boring arrogance any day.

Cats is NOT boring.  It’s far from it.  Much like the musical that inspired it – which so happens to also be one of the worst musicals ever created – Cats is a bold, daring attempt to deliver something no one ever wanted to see.  Humans behaving like cats singing boring ballads.  Add to it an insipid score that needs serious remastering, awful special effects, and an enhanced story-line that makes zero sense (yes, I know, they’re dancing humans dressed as cats – why am I surprised by a ridiculous story-line?), and you have 90 minutes of sheer bewilderment.  The only saving grace:  Hopefully the movie has sufficiently taken the last of nine lives from this atrocious musical so that we never have to endure another performance – either in film, OR on stage.

So now that we’ve taken out the kitty litter, let’s look at some of the brighter sparks of 2019. Because, whilst there were actually NO films last year that I reviewed higher than 4-stars, there were still a few gems that warrant some attention.  These include last year’s Best Picture winner, Green Book; the dark and twisted take on one of DC’s greatest villains, Joker; the hilarious and earnest original whodunit, Knives Out; and the epic end to the greatest movie franchise in history, Avenger’s Endgame.

But taking the spot of my 3rd best film of the year was the latest film in the franchise that constantly delivers the impossible – a better film with each and every sequel.  In its simplest form, Toy Story 4 is a beautiful romantic comedy featuring two stand-out lead characters.  But whilst the lovely romance of Woody and Bo Peep take centre stage, it’s the gobsmackingly clever new characters including the show boater with no self-confidence – Duke Caboom– and my absolute favourite new character of 2019 (and spirit utensil) – Forky – that ultimately steal the show.  Pixar never ceases to amaze, and Toy Story 4 is no exception. The idea of creating a kids movie positioned around a romantic comedy, where a core character is made of trash, thinks of himself as nothing more, and needs to learn self-worth from scratch, is something truly extraordinary.  So thank you Pixar for giving me Forky.  A character that taught me so much, even at my age!

Speaking of education, slipping into 2nd place is Olivia Wildes glorious directorial debut – Booksmart.  This joyous, hilarious and utterly original coming of age story is spearheaded by stellar performances by its two leads.  But it’s the way the film manages to use its often absurd humour to elevate its very sincere reflection of growing up in today’s day and age that really set this film apart.  Booksmart continues the trend of unique, smart coming of age stories where young love is not the focus.  Instead, it simply heroes its two smart and strong female leads and showcases that there’s no one more important than your best friend.

And so we come to my favourite film of the year – although, favourite is probably not the best word to use given how uncomfortable I found this film to watch.   But it’s precisely that discomfort that elevates this harrowing and heartbreaking film to my number one spot.  That film:  Hotel Mumbai.

I understand that putting a dramatized version of a horrifying real-life event at the top of my list may seem odd – and for many reviewers, this movie felt exploitative. But I couldn’t disagree more.  For me, Hotel Mumbai deftly balances the fears and bravery of its protagonists with a dismaying reflection of the motivations (or often lack there of) of the terrorists.  Add to that some social commentary on the political failures that made the tragedy far worse, and you have an uncomfortable to watch, but ultimately poignant reflection of just one of recent history’s most horrifying incidents, and my number 1 film of 2019.

Now, to avoid ending this recap of 2019 on such a dire note, I should point out that there are a large number of additional films I feel should be included in this list including Roma and The Irishman.  However – given I don’t review movies I see outside of cinemas (how can I honestly review a film I watch on a plane the same way I do on a giant immersive screen), I’ve intentionally left these off the list.  Likewise, there’s a number of films I missed this year – including the well-reviewed Parasite, and the latest from the genius that is Taikia Waititi – Jojo Rabbit – that I feel would likely have been quite high up in my rankings had I seen them in cinemas earlier in the year.   Although, given Once Upon A Time In Hollywood was my least favourite film – and yet it just walked away with a Best Picture award at the Golden Globes – then perhaps not.  Which is probably why I shouldn’t give up my day job.  Call me old fashioned, but I like my movies to have a plot.  And a point.

But for now, that’s a wrap on 2019.  Lets home this new decade brings with it more reasons to return to a cinema near you.  See you next year!