#if I could master this style I would feel unstoppable

[drum-cu-naluci]

Your December 1st post, Ileana or Romania as minimalist as I could

[romerona]

The Worm

Surviving the game and losing yourself in the way.

"Don't go underestimating the power of a small force, it may be the only thing that can slip through the cracks."

ROSEMARY BLACK X OC!SNOWMALE.

ROSEMARY BLACK X PRIMROSE EVERDEEN.

"Rosemary Black, district 10, the youngest ever victor in the Hunger Games. Don't let her age fool you, she a force to be reckoned with, known for her cunning wit and speed she managed to-"

"I remember her… I found it hard to believe it then and still find it hard to believe it now."

"Well, then you know that with the right motivation, she's unstoppable."

Rosemary Black × OC!SnowMale? // Primrose Everdeen?

A/N: There would be a few inaccuracies but please, remember this is a fanfic. I'm unsure If I will match Rose with anyone yet but I'll think about it as the story goes.

Masterlist.

Next

[BLAZE RAFFERTY]

Rosemary has always liked horses, despite their ferocious power and wild nature, they were graceful and beautiful. As a poor girl, Rose was confined to watch them from afar whenever a wealthy folk decided to take them out for a walk, Rose used to think that she’d probably never be able to interact with one, but here she is, gently offering her hand to the horse, waiting to see if it allowed her to touch it which it did.

Gently caressed the coat of the chariot horses, which stood proudly with their fancy and shinny decorations waiting for the parade to start. Rose was unaware of its breed, but she could not help but appreciate its beauty and how different it was from the horses in her district.

She thought of how the horse was there to be part of the spectacle made for the Capitol elite, just like her, and the comparison struck her deeply. Like the horse, her ‘beauty and grace’ if she has any, can be appreciated by the people of the capitol, but at the end of the day, she was ripped away from her home to be just an accessory meant to entertain the masses.

As she looked at the horse, she felt a sense of kinship and empathy towards the creature, realizing that they were not so different after all. They are pawns, used and abused by their masters to fulfil their own agendas, they both share the same fate, with no control over their own lives.

“Are you ready?” Asked Eugene coming next to her to pet the horse. He was wearing a similar costume to hers only his a tad more masculine. He looked good, and the costume made his styled red hair stand out, no doubt he’d catch some attention.

Even if I’m not it doesn’t really matter, does it? Rose wanted to say that, but instead, she sent her tribute partner a smile saying, “As I’ll ever be,”

Rose was trying to stay somewhat positive in her gaze of nervousness not only for herself but for him as well because even if he looks calm she knows he is just as nervous as her.

Eugene smiled, he looked down at her and nodded, motioning to the cockpit of the chariot before offering his arm in an overly theatrical manner with a grin, to which Rose couldn’t help but laugh. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Rose intertwined her arm with his and let him lead her. Once on top, Pearl and Lennox came to tell them how to act when they were making their debut, as they spoke to them Rose let her eyes travel along the other tributes, each looking as… dazzling as the next one. Rose felt slightly lightheaded as a thought struck her mind; they all looked incredible… at least for the Capitol standard, so how the hell was she supposed to stand out? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey,” Eugene squeezes her shoulder forcing Rose to snap her head in his direction. He takes hold of her hand, something is coming to learn that is a thing he does often, and sends her an understanding look. “Together, right? No matter what?”

Before Rose could even mutter an answer or even think about it, the horses began to move causing Rose to momentarily lose her stability as the tributes enter the streets of the capitol.

Rose feels a mix of emotions as people cheer and wave around her but if she has to describe it with one word It would be overwhelming, knowing that all eyes are on her and that this is her time to make the Capitol's elite take interest in her makes Rose feels out of her element… But as the cheers grow louder and she oddly feels the excitement of the crowd, her nerves are replaced with a sense of determination and importance.

Rose went to use both her hands to wave at the crowd when she noticed one of those hands was still latched with Eugene’s, Rose felt slightly embarrassed but she chuckled when Eugene grinned and winked at her before using their interlaced hands to wave.

It was goofy but definitely something that would grab attention, so, she decided to play along and faux her ‘joyful’ laugh as if she was enjoying herself, as if she was enjoying being there. Both are untrue but the audience doesn’t have to know that.

As the chariot goes on, people get louder some pointing at them and chuckling, others cheering their names, Rose, in between her waves and fake laughter, saw a few that ‘Aww’ them. Rose only hopes this reaction stays for as long as she’s in the games.

At some point, Rosemary caught sight of herself on a large screen, and for a moment she was awestruck. Not to be pretentious but goddamn! She’s never looked this good in her life. Pearl deserves praise for this look, even her wild hair complemented her form. She wonders if her family likes it, and she wonders if maybe her friends like it too... Rose quickly shakes her head, no time for that now...

Soon, the parade was coming to an end. And Rose and Eugene as well as the other 22 tributes found themselves in the City Circle. Rose looked about at the prestigious-looking citizens as the horses stopped right up to President Snow's mansion.

Snow stands to make his welcoming speech, just like he had for the past games. Rose hardly listened to him, she only regarded him, his presence was weirdly perilous. At long last, the chariots were making their final rounds before disappearing into the Training Center.

The doors had only just shut when Rose and Eugene were engulfed by the prep teams, all of whom excitedly praised them about their debut.

Leto smirks proudly at Rose, or rather at her hair as he takes one wild curl pulling it softly. “This hair of yours was the main character, wasn’t it?”

“And you wanted to cut it off,” Rose couldn’t help but say back.

Leto looks at her, a small smile shoving away the smirk, “Why yes, but only because I believe it has a mind on its own… good thing your hair and I came to an agreement.”

“You seem to be the only one who can actually manage it, my grandfather would be jealous.” Rose smiles back, feeling comfortable for the first time around her prep team.

“Please, keep the compliment coming, I adore it.” Leto smirks and comes back as he helps her out of the chariot while Lennox, who was sporting a similar smirk, helps Eugene.

“I think it is us who deserve the praise,” said Lennox, making Pearl nod in agreement as she helped Rose out of one of the ornaments.

“Yes… but the person is what makes the outfit,” Pearl gives Rose a comforting squeeze and a wink.

Caine comes up, his own excited smile on his face, “Oh, my Panem. It’s wild out there. I swear I heard at least a dozen people talk about the cuties from 10. If not more.”

“Definitely more,” mutter Allen coming up to them however his eyes were roaming the other tributes making Rose do the same, unsurprisingly no one was looking at them for more than a couple of seconds. As if they were only curious about the two tributes that cause that uprise only to discover it’s just two youngsters barely worth their attention.

“Let’s continue this conversation In the penthouse, okay?” Caine swiftly took Eugene and her by the shoulders and ushered them to the luxurious elevators with one last goodbye to her prep team Rose let herself be guided away.

“Good job out there, that’s what I was talking about,” said Allen as soon as they stepped foot into the glass elevator.

Rose was slightly nervous as the elevator began to make its way up because she felt as if she was going to fall off at any moment. She refused to look at anything other than the metal door because heights, while not a big weakness it's surely a sensitive spot for her.

“I’ve been conversing with a few influential people and they seem to like you, of course, there’s a lot of hesitation and restraint so you’ll have to work their sympathies to get them to be fully convinced to bet on you,” Allen continues leaning against the crystal window, “After that, I’ll try and do miracles,”

Rose scoffs, sparing him a glance.

Much to her relief, they arrived at District 10 suit, their home for the next week. Much like everything else in the Capitol, the suits were as large and luxurious as everything else, however, all Rose wanted to do was lay down and sleep which unfortunately didn’t seem to be coming in a while. After her much-needed shower and change of clothes, Caine was knocking on her door telling her to come have dinner.

As Rosemary makes her way into her meat, which is the most delicious thing she has ever eaten, she listens to Allen, Caine, Pearl and Lennox go on about their strategies. In a way, it was comforting to know that even now people can care for her survival, genuine or not. While drinking her green juice, because Allen wouldn’t let her have Wine, Rose regards the servers, this were young people dressed in white tunics, they move wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full without even having to ask them to.

These are Avox. Rose only knows that because one time, when Hugo had taken her to the edge between 10 and 11 to fish, (an illegal spot) she had spoken on a fantasy of just leaving District 10, about taking everything and going about free only for her grandfather to snap at her saying that her fantasy was a crime in the eyes of the capitol and if someone were to hear her speak like that she’ll be turned into a tongueless puppet, or better known as an Avox.

“Oi, put on the opening ceremonies,” Lennox tells one of the Avox offhandedly gesturing to the screen in the living room. Lennox was slightly annoying for Rose but whatever it’s not like he’s her Stylist, she really lucked out with Pearl who was calmly taking a slice of cake.

Wordlessly, the Avox do as told, and soon they were watching the replay of the ceremonies. They all look as good as Rose originally thought but honestly, her and Eugene's performance, not to mention outfit, was really outshining everyone else.

Good. She only has to keep this goofy, joyful persona up for the games, can’t be too hard, right?

“You know what you should do?” Pearl says to Rose quietly as Lennox and Caine ramble about the other tributes' outfits.

When Rose turns to her expectantly Pearl continues, “You should watch the past interviews of the past victors, like Finnick Odair, people love him, watching his interview perhaps can help a little.”

Maybe it will.

———

The next morning was the first day of training out of three, after a hearty breakfast, Allen told them what to do once they were with the other tributes training which was basically ‘Don’t show many skills until the last training day, the private session that’s when it counts, instead try to learn something new, try and learn basic survival skills if you don’t know any’ before sending them away to be eaten by the wolfs.

Lovely. As if she’s not nervous enough to meet face-to-face with the others. As they (Caine included) were ridding the elevator down, Rose couldn’t help but take Eugene’s hand, it was the first time she had initiated the hand-holding thing, and as much as she was embarrassed about it, she didn’t really care either. Eugene didn’t seem to be pushing her away so that’s a relief.

The doors open into the one and true training center, stepping out, Rose looks at the enormous gymnasium filled with various weapons and obstacle courses and then her eyes settle on the circle of tributes, 1,2 and 4 career districts, looking healthy as ever while the other 9 district tributes look malnourished, nothing to be surprised about, they were all wearing clothing with their district number pinned on their shirt. The tension could be cut with a knife.

A few tributes turn to them but just like the night before no one really spared them a second glance and Rose doesn’t know if that is good or insulting.

Suddenly a tall and athletic woman named Atala steps up and begins to explain the training schedule. Experts in each skill will remain at their stations. They will be free to travel from area to area as they choose, per their mentor's instructions. Some of the stations teach survival skills, others fighting techniques. They are forbidden to engage in any combative exercise with another tribute. There are assistants on hand if they want to practice with a partner. It sounded as if she had made the same speech over and over… perhaps she has, who knows just how many games she has seen through.

As soon as Atala let them go train it was no surprise when all the career districts chose the deadliest stations, showing just how good they were at it. Show-offs.

Rose looked around the stations, she noticed most tributes went for easy ones, climbing, some chose camouflage, and the most daring chose the gauntlets and sparing.

Rose turns to Eugene who has his eyes on the climbing station, she nudges him, “Go on, I’ll try hammocks making or something,”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” said Eugene before leaving her.

It was really odd to Rose that she felt a bit disappointed when he left, it was odd because Rose had only known him for two days time and she already formed some sort of dependency on him.

She shook herself off and swiftly made her way to Edible insects where she learned that when it has a hooked-tale, bright colours or more than eight legs it’s probably not consumable. Then, she first thought that maybe she could improve her fish hook-making, then she figured knot-tying could be a good one but Rose felt she knew enough… she wanted to try sparing but backed down when she saw the tribute from 1 and 2 laughing at a boy who just got thrown down by the trainer, so instead, she decided to try something she had never before done, slingshot.

When she arrived at the station she was glad that not many tributes were there, only the girl from 7 and a boy of 5. She smiled at both of them and waved a shy ‘hello’ The boy from 5 greeted back, a bit stiff but at least he said hi, the girl only spared her a glance.

After being told the instructions, each took a slingshot and began to practice. Rose remembers all the instructor's movements, the arm and hand positions, keeping her wrist straight but not stiff, after her first five shots, Rose came to the conclusion that she was surprisingly good at it and just how much she enjoyed it, definitely not the best, (like the guy from five who had great pulse), but not bad either (unlike the girl from seven who had giving up after the first three shots,) or at least that’s what the trainer said.

Still, even after the two tributes were gone, Rose remained there, practising. She came to learn the importance of using different types of slingshots, such as their size, shape, weight, and materials. The instructor kept helping her when needed, which after two hours was hardly needed. All she had to do now was practice.

After another hour or so, Eugene found her and dragged her away when it was time for lunch much to her dismay but she figured she couldn’t stay there forever…

“How did it go?” Rose asks sitting on one of the long tables, just in between the tributes from 4 and 11.

Eugene shrugs, his eyes settled on his tray “It was hard but I figured it out, and then I moved to Axe’s.”

“And how did that go?” Rose asks, taking a bite out of a tasty-looking apple.

“Could be better if it weren’t for the watchful eye of the Gamemakers,” Once again he shrugged, before asking. “What about you?”

Rose frowns at him in confusion, “What Gamemakers?”

“Those Gamemakers,” Eugene points at the open doors of the gymnasium, where a few men and some women dressed in deep purple robes were speaking with an instructor.

“They have been watching us this entire time?” Rose asks loud enough for a few tributes to turn their head, Rose simply smiles at them before turning to Eugene in confusion and surprise.

Eugene huffs a chuckle as he nods, “Yeah, they’ve been sitting on in the elevated stands that surround the gymnasium taking notes and whatnot… did you seriously not notice?”

“Obviously not,” Rose rolls her eyes, she eyes the Gamemakers laughing at something an instructor said.

“Don’t worry much, if Allen didn’t tell us maybe it’s not that important,” Eugene said as he sipped his juice.

Rose looks back at her half-eaten apple, all hunger gone. “Or maybe it is, why are they here in the first place?”

“I…listen, I don’t-"

“Obviously because they are here to assert us, you dumbasses," Said a voice from behind Rose.

Rose's head snapped to where she heard the voice, there, at another table, was the boy from 1, Blaze Rafferty, with a shit-eating grin, sitting with his district partner, Xury Ashbluff who snorted.

"Honestly, 10 I know not to expect much from lower districts but fuck!" Blaze scoffs brassily, "There's really not much of a competition this year, isn't it?"

"Maybe just like the usual ones," Xury shoots a glance at 2, who just like the rest of the districts have been watching before sending Rose yet another condescending look, "But other than that not at all,"

Rose pursed her lips, it'd be smart to just turn back and ignore them, not to engage, not to put herself on their bad side and simply be laying low until the arena, "Y'all can go shut yall's trap, ain't no one talking to you."

"What?" Scoffs Xury, she seems slightly confused but Rose knows that it's not because she didn't understand her more like she wasn't expecting backtalk.

Eugene was quick to say "Nothing-"

"No, no. This is quite interesting," Blaze, with a smirk, stood up from his seat and Rose watched him walk towards her and hold back a gulp when he took a seat to her side, facing her, it was then that she noticed just how massive he was. "I've never seen an animal talk before, and now I'm curious about what it got to say, so, go on, bark!"

At first, Rose couldn't help but look away from him as he continued to stare at her, his eyes holding mirth and arrogance, but his words ticked her off. She could feel Eugene's eyes pleading with her not to, a part of her brain was also loudly yelling to back down and get into a fetal position, and another part wanted to just cry and cry but ultimately, her mouth and brain didn't connect.

"I meant to say..." Rosemary gazes up at him sporting a grin of her own, "Is that y'all sure do talk a bunch for someone who looks like your mama gave birth to out her ass!"

There was a stunned silence, a pin-dropping quiet, and for a few moments, no one made a sound. The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable. But then, someone let out a nervous laugh, a small sound that broke the stillness. A few more chuckles followed, and soon the air was filled with muffled giggles.

However, before Rose could even react, she was being lifted into the air by her shirt, like a doll by a giant, which was almost comical. But there was nothing funny about Blaze's grim expression, "You weak little worm, just wait---"

The peacekeepers were quick to intervene, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. They removed Rosemary from Blaze's iron grip as they pushed him away, with his face red with displeasure he grunted in annoyance. "Let's see if in the arena you have just as much bite as bark, 10."

Well, shit shit shit.

"Alright, lunch's over let's go back to training," Atala announced, causing the group of tributes to stand and walk into the gymnasium again.

As they walked, Rose could feel the stares of a few tributes, but the ones who just seemed to burn her were the stares of the Gamemakers, the ever-penetrating inquisitive stare was practically making her skin sizzle. But she wouldn't for the life of her glance back up at them.

"I done messed up, ain't I? Rose mumbles as Eugene all but drags her the farthest away from the careers.

Eugene hums in agreement as they arrive at Edible Plants station before he turns to look at her, his eyes echoing the exasperation of his tone, "Why the fuck did you do that for?"

"I... I don't know," Rose mumbles, she glances at Blaze and Xury, both glaring right at her from the Axe’s station. Blaze's glare, however, seemed like he was planning her death to be a slow painful one. "I just couldn't let him talk to me like that,"

"Fuck, Rose, the careers will have us on their kill list now, no doubt 'bout that,"

Rose groans, she is well aware of her life-threatening fuck up.

A/N: Blaze’s face claim is Alex Høgh Andersen.

[postalvalhalla]

Nine Sack Master

I’ve been reading a martial arts manhwa (or manhua, can’t tell) called “The Strongest Male Lead in History”.  This promised to be one of those stories where the hero was unstoppable and possibly arrogant and boring to read about, but that’s not the case.  Our hero is quite powerful, and his power is still growing, but he’s a kind of idiot-savant who has no idea how powerful he actually is.  Also, he’s kind of “all power, no technique” as he’s only been studying martial arts for a few months and hasn’t been taught anything yet.  He can punch like -- well, like Saitama in One Punch Man, to be honest.  But he doesn’t know most of the special tricks that everyone else knows.  He’s still convinced he’s a hopeless case who is *this* close to being kicked out of the sect.

So that’s entertaining.  But one of the things that I’ve enjoyed the most is just the weird world of Asian martial arts storytelling.  I feel like I’m reading science fiction for the very first time and don’t understand most of the conventions or tropes -- I mean, I’ve read a lot of Japanese martial arts manga, but this Chinese/Korean stuff is different.

First there’s “cultivation”.  I didn’t know what this was, but it was clear that the characters would meditate and increase their spiritual power -- the blue glowy stuff that allows them to do extraordinary things that no normal martial artist could do.  At first I thought this was just this one storyteller’s gimmick, but then I noticed another story that was titled something like, “The Greatest Cultivator’s Journey” or somesuch.  So I Googled the term, and found that it’s basically what the story claims:  it’s like a wizard meditating to regain mana, only, you know, it’s not magic, it’s MARTIAL ARTS.  But it’s still not real, just in case that wasn’t clear.

But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.  There’s the whole power structure -- or lack thereof, because there’s never any context given for anything.  Our hero can cultivate up to 9 levels, and then 30, and then... well at some point he’s over 3,000.  He’s on the level of a top student, then a master, then a grand master, then he’s as strong as a Martial Arts General, then he has a Spiritual Body, whatever that means.  It’s the “Over 9000″ meme in spades -- there’s always a higher level he can achieve, and it’s never put into context.  I think after Spiritual Body there was a Solid Gold Spiritual Body or some crap of that sort.  All it means is he’s stronger than before.

In the most recent chapter we meet members of the Beggar Sect, because in a martial arts story there are a million different sects that teach different styles, all of them dangerous.  One of these Beggar Sect monks is a “Nine Sack Master”.  No context what that means -- apparently it’s something big, but you’re left to assume that a Nine Sack Master is much better than one with  three sacks.  Are there Ten Sack Masters?  Is there something better than a sack master, such as a baggage master or a satchel or haversack master?  Maybe a Strongbox Master is the top level?

Also, I just want to note that no matter how obscure a particular skill is or how far the hero ascends into the stratosphere, the elite of the elite, where there can hardly be anyone who can touch him -- the world is CRAWLING with martial artists who appear to be as strong or stronger.  Because of course it is, our hero has to fight someone doesn’t he?  There are hidden cults and secret sects and all manner of dark and mysterious and evil groups chock-full of badass martial artists who can do most of the things he can, or match him in almost every way.

Anyway, it’s been entertaining so far and there are tons of chapters so I’ve been having fun.  ^_^  But I still want to know what a Nine Sack Master really is.

[nowen422]

Bleach tybw ep9 : As an asexual I did not know I could be this thirsty for two murderers.

So we have reached the part where I truly become “anime review white guy”……very well, let’s do this.

Ok so there are tons of fights in tybw but there are in estimation about 10 or more that are major fights with major significance. We’ve seen one with Yamamoto vs Yhwach (Royd Lloyd) and arguably two more with Ichigo vs Quilge and Yhwach. Now we are on the verge with two HUGE moments in the series with Ichigo’s experience in Ouetsu Nimaiya’s palace and the fight between Unohana and Zaraki. Now I know what happens during both parts, and Ichigo’s story is great, but my focus is on Xaraki and Unohana right now. If it were up to me I’d have at least four more episodes of them talking, fighting, exploring backstory and just drowning me in exposition and symbolism. But I’m not and that’s for the best. That being said, I hope we get some exposition from Unohana on how she met Zaraki and I hope we get some explanation on her shikai and( if we see it) her bankai. Oh yeah, Shunsui had some cool stuf and we learn about Kirov hikifune or whatever.

Shinigami deaths: 7?

Sternritter deaths: 6

Times I questioned if I should be feeling this intensely about a fictional fight between two fictional people: 0

Spoilers below

—————————————————————————

Things I liked:

Shunsui putting central 46 in their place. “I’m not asking for 2 lieutenant’s, I’m telling you I’m having two lieutenants.” Which makes sense cause he has two swords, so why not two assistants?

I liked that they kept in the explanation about Tenjiro’s hot springs. I was wondering if they’d just state it outright or if they’d make you think on it. The twitching muscle animation and clothes bursting into flame were good touches though.

Kirio is an interesting character with her abilities and design and I’m glad we get to see her cooking. I’m hoping we will get to see her do more than in the manga

Ok the rest of this is about Unohana vs kenpachi so brace yourself.

Everything has been super faithful to the manga, from Unohana’s expressions to the words she speaks.

The line, “I much prefer you when you are silent”, is perfect. Unohana hasn’t come to the place where they stuck Aizen for nothing. She hasnt come to play.

The way they both stand is so symbolic of who they perceive themselves to be. Zaraki stands tall like a mountain that cannot be conquered while Unohana is hunched over with her sword angled out from her sash almost looking like some kind of mantis.

The narration of kyoraku as he reads from the book is on point, and exactly as the Manga details. It’s really hammering Home the fact that he is now the leader of everyone in the Seireitei, and more importantly, he is the keeper of all of the old stories, and all of the horrible things that the soul reapers have done over the millennia.

Our first flashback of little kenpachi!

One of the things I especially like about this fight that I think is really prevalent in the anime versus the manga, is the difference in style between Zaraki and Unohana. Zaraki is a powerhouse who swings like a animal, his style is overwhelming power, because he is overwhelmingly powerful. Unohana on the other hand, chose to name her self yachiru which we learn means 1000 styles, because she mastered every single style of sword fighting. It is a literal battle between raw, unstoppable talent versus hard earned skill and passion, and I think it’s more seen here than it was in the manga, even though the lines are practically the same in both.

The cuts during the fight between Isane and Yachiru are just like the manga, just given a few more seconds. We really see how important both captains are to their lieutenants. Yachiru just saying Zaraki’s name is so moving and watching Isane bawl her eyes out makes me seriously want to see how she would interact with Zaraki post fight.

Zaraki crying after he gets beaten the first time. In the entirety of the series, we only see two emotions from Zaraki. Boredom and excitement. Watching him break down and effectively bare his soul to the only person he thinks could understand him, the only person who he could admire, it’s haunting.

The first stab and Zaraki’s resurrection, is such a jump and already will be making the audience ask WTF! But I’m hoping we will get more explanation of how Unohana’s healing him and maybe and explanation of her bankai. 

Things I didn’t like:

I knew they were gonna jiggle Hikifune’s boobs in her slim form. I knew it and the tonal shift hit me like a freight train.

When they did the reveal of Hikifune’s skill that got her into the Royal Palace, I kind of expected Kon to have more of a reaction than just being a background piece to illustrate. This is what she made. It might be my own head cannon, but I would’ve liked for him to interact with her and she would’ve been like oh I remember you I remember making you“. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.

They’ve done a first flashback with Zaraki and Unohana, so I’m really really really really really hoping that they don’t cut the second flashback, which has a more flushed out fight between Young Zaraki and younger Unohana.

Next week is gonna blow your god damn minds

[noforkingclue]

Hello how are you today? I would like to request a dhawan!master x reader where he and the reader are both stuck in an escape room and they both are not happy but they realise they need to work together to escape.

Yeah I'm alright. Enjoying the bank holiday but not looking forward to the next two weeks at work (yay restructures!)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic! :D

Title: Working Together

Doctor Who tag list: @v4n1r, @queerconfusionthings, @yourneighbourhoodclown, @love-of-fandoms, @emilythezeldafan, @fabulous-jj-style, @theseeker945, @pleadingeyes, @kjaneway1, @truthbehindthemysteries, @im-a-muggleborn, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @mythandmagik, @geocookie21, @zerocanonlywriteshit, @thewinterpoet2, @anteroom-of-death, @night467

Dhawan!Master tag list: @agentmalfoy24601, @b-bae27, @praxeus-13, @sessa23

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian

“You’re not very good at this.”

“Seeing as we’re both currently stuck I can say the same thing about you, dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But the name suits you so well.”

You looked over your shoulder and glared at the Master who had his back to you. His coat was flung into the corner of the room and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked over his shoulder and smirked at you as you quickly looked away.

“The more time spent staring at me the longer it’ll take to get out of here. Unless you want to spend more time with me?”

“And why would I want that?”

The Master shrugged as he turned back to inspecting the wall. He tapped a random spot and grimaced when nothing happened.

“Oh what do you humans call it? Closure?”

“Why the fuck would I want closure from you of all people?”

“We did travel together.”

“And then you dropped me back off on earth without as much as a goodbye.”

The Master was silent for beat, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were determined not to look at him again, only needing to get out of this room and then you could go back to your normal, peaceful life. You had forgotten how nice it was to have days where you weren’t running for your life or plotting on how to destroy a planet. It was relaxing.

“I know.”

You jumped at the Master’s voice. You heard him sigh as he turned around and started walking towards you. You stiffened and looked around but no exit magically appeared. You were stuck with him.

“Letting you go was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make, dear.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said, “And you still made it.”

“I had to. It was for your safety, love.”

“Don’t call me that either. Then why did you do it.”

“Because if I didn’t you would’ve been killed, pet.”

“Or that. You could’ve told me. We’ve been in life threatening situations before.”

“Nothing like that. If you came with me you would’ve died, darling.”

“Especially don’t call me that! You could’ve told me why you left me. Why didn’t you.”

“Because,” the Master was right behind you, you could feel his body heat against your back, “If I told you, you would’ve insisted on coming with me, human.”

“That’s just what I am. Then why didn’t you tell me.”

“Because I didn’t know how long my business was going to take,” the Master pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades, “I didn’t want you waiting for me for what could’ve been years. I’m not the Doctor. I’d rather have you being alive, hating me and moving on in your life then staying with me and being dead, my love.”

“You just repeated that one.”

The Master put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. You tried to keep up your mask of indifference but when you saw his face you felt it crumbling. You were used to seeing the Master being almost manic, either in glee or with unstoppable rage, but this was different. You weren’t used to seeing the pain that shone in his eyes and the Master pressed his forehead against yours.

“I meant ever word I said, y/n.”

“I know.” You said

“So forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

The Master’s grip on your shoulders tightened and you gasped as he backed you against the wall. You were trapped between his body, something that you hated that you missed as one of his hands came to rest by the side of your head.

“You can trust me,” he said, his lips brushing teasingly over yours, “You know that.”

“How can I trust someone who can’t even get us out of this room?”

“My precious human,” the Master pressed himself further against you, “Who says that I want to get us out?”

You breath hitched and you felt your eyes fluttered shut and his lips grazed against yours. You wouldn’t exactly call it a kiss and your hands few t his shoulders. Whether to push him away or pull him close, that you didn’t know. The Master smirked against your skin and you jumped when you heard a mechanical whirring. The Master had pushed a panel next to your head as the wall opposite the two of you slid open. The Master stepped away and you scowled at him, immediately missing the warmth from his body. The Master held out his hand and said,

“Come on y/n, one more adventure.”

You pushed passed him, forcing yourself to ignore the flash of hurt that crossed his face.

“I’m still pissed at you,” you snapped, “But tell you what, if somehow we manage to survive I’ll consider your offer.”

[teyvat-imagines]

Hello! May I ask a hc about Childe or Zhongli with an s/o who uses a scythe as a weapon?

Hey there, thanks for the request!! ^w^ I hope you like it!

S/O Who Uses a Scythe

Childe:

○ First of all, you know this man is absolutely HYPED to see your weapon. He'd immediately wanna spar with you, or at least get a demonstration of what you can do with it!

○ Childe also of course wants to try and master the scythe as well. Sure he could study by himself or try some trial and error, but why do that when he's got the best possible teacher right here! As long as you don't mind teaching him anyway. If you had any issues with it he would respectively back down.

○ Childe's quick to adapt to your fighting style and adjusts his own whenever the two of you are working together. It makes for an utterly deadly combination and the two of you are unstoppable together, taking down enemies swiftly and making sure you've both got each other's weak spots covered!

○ Being as flashy as he is with money sometimes, Childe ends up buying you a new handcrafted Scythe just for you as an anniversary present one year. It's sleek, deadly and the weight of it feels just perfect in your hands. It might be an odd gift to some, but you adored it.

"I'm so glad you like it, Comrade~! To be honest, it actually took me a while to find a good enough smith to craft that for you. But, now that you have it, why don't we test it out~? Let's go (Y/N), show me what you can do!"

Zhongli:

○ As a polearm user, Zhongli is pleased to see you've mastered a weapon similar to his own. Of course there were bound to be differences in your overall fighting style, but still he was curious to see what you could do and how you handled yourself.

○ Considering he's been alive for centuries, you were honestly feeling a little bit sheepish about the idea of demonstrating your skills to him. He's probably seen some amazing warriors over the years, could you really compare?

○ Still, you persevere and by the end of your demonstration you're glad that you did. Zhongli's watching you with a fire in his eyes you hadn't seen before, and his applause is sincere as he compliments your fighting style. Everything from the way you move to the speed at which you adapt to the fight at hand was absolutely incredible and he's determined to make sure you know this!

○ Of course, as a result you'd better be ready for early morning sparring sessions with the God of Geo himself now! Come rain or shine, Zhongli will be ready for you, shirt off and polearm in hand, already poised to fight. The glowing gold coating the skin of his hands tells you everything you need to know as you let your eyes travel along the black gradient adorning his arms before snapping up to meet those piercing glowing eyes.

"Ready to spar my love? Rest assured, while I would never harm you, with your skill level I cannot afford to take things easy. So come at me with all you've got my dear (Y/N)~"

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 5

Ladybug and Chat Noir made their debut on a sunny Monday of September. Just as her master had feared that intense energy they felt was only the beginning. Hawkmoth started his reign of terror, releasing his akumas on unsuspecting civilians, using their strong negative emotions, and creating his champions. It was a vile move, attacking someone when they were vulnerable. But Marianne had to admit that he was good. She was trained to do exactly the same thing, to manipulate and exploit someone’s weakness, but at least she had the decency to never use her abilities for personal gain unless extremely necessary. She was a soldier, everything she did was by the order of someone. Her whole training so far had been preparing her for this moment. 

So when Stonehart appeared, she was ready. 

She knew everything she needed to do, she had been trained since birth for this. Her Master was confident that she had what it took to take down these akumatized people, and allied with the one he had chosen to wield the Cat Miraculous they would be unstoppable. He didn’t tell her the identity of the person he has chosen, but she knew he wouldn’t. For safety reasons, only the Grand Guardian would know the identities of the wielders. But she didn’t need to know his identity in order to work with him. 

Chat Noir surprised her a lot. She knew he couldn’t possibly have the same training she had, but he still knew how to fight. He’s trained in fencing from what she can tell by his style of fighting, and he’s very good. After some time they became the perfect duo, always in synchrony and ready for anything. It’s nice to have someone on her side, in the League she mostly acted alone, so having someone that had her back full time was new. 

It took two years to defeat Hawkmoth. In those two years that she lived in Paris, a lot changed. First was her name. In order to live completely off the radar of the League, she needed a new name. They had lost contact with the League after the attack, so they never discovered what exactly happened, or who won in the end. She was glad the Mayor of Paris decided that it would be better to ban any rumors of a supervillain in the city from the outside world, fearing that that would cause the tourism to diminish. That allowed her some security, but one could never be too careful, the League was known to have spies everywhere. So she changed her name. In the documents that her godmother forged, she was called Marinette Dupain but preferred to be called Mari because that was closer to her real name. Daughter of a kind baker and his traveler wife, her backstory was that she spent most of her childhood traveling the world with her mother, but now her parents decided that it would be good for her to stay in the same place for more time. She would be homeschooled by Sabine, which was enough for social security to allow her to be kept from attending school. It was kind of funny that she lived so close to a school but didn’t study there. 

Another thing that changed was that for the first time she had people she could rely on. Before it was only Damian. He was the only one that she ever told about her fears and insecurities, confiding in him was something she missed in those years apart. They were very close before the attack, and after two long years of thinking she was dead, she wasn’t sure what would happen when they finally reunited. But she hoped it would go well.

When she first transformed, she felt invincible. It was something she would never forget, feeling that kind of power was memorable. It was normal for the suit to incorporate traits of your personality, but it still was a surprise when she saw herself as Ladybug for the first time. She wore a black skin-tight suit that covered her entire body from the neck down, in her torso making the illusion a corset, a part of the suit was red with black spots. She also had boots and a jacket to complement her look, also in red with dots. Her hair tied back in a ponytail was rather practical and allowed her better motion. On her right leg strapped to her tight was a knife holster with a small dagger that served for surprise attacks, her specialty. Around her waist was where she tied her yoyo when she wasn’t using it. To conceal her identity, she wore a domino mask also in red.

In the beginning, she wanted to use another name for her superheroine self, one that paid tribute to her Arabic roots, but Master Fu thought it better to go with a more generic name, that way it would be harder to obtain any type of information about her. In the end, she relented and went with Ladybug. 

When Ladybug and Chat Noir first appeared, most of Paris newspapers and tabloids started to question the origin of their superheroes. Some believe them to be aliens, which her Master thought hilarious. Others were certain they were metahumans, born with their powers, and their Miraculous just served as an amplifier, and Hawkmoth wanted all Miraculous to increase his power to the maximum level, in Mari’s case they were partially right about the part of the powers. The one that came closer to the truth was the writer of the Ladyblog, the amount of research she had was impressive for someone so young. She discovered that the Miraculous were older than they thought, dating back all the way to the ancient Egyptian Empire, other than that she was way off. She had this theory that the Miraculous holders were a group of immortal entities that always appeared in ties of need, but recently one of them must have gone bad, tired of centuries in hiding, and the others are trying to defeat them and restore peace. It was a good theory that had some truth behind it, but still very exaggerated. It didn’t help that Ladybug was obviously experienced and that only served to fund this theory even more.

It became a game for Ladybug and Chat Noir to find the funniest theories and share them during patrol. Chat was really good in that, normally he just asked one of his friends what they thought. Mari, not having friends to ask just bought stuff the media printed. These kinds of games helped them relax a little after a tiring battle.  

After two years of fighting evil forces, it was impossible for the two superheroes not to be close. Their kind of relationship always reminded Mari of her brother, and she often felt guilty for not being able to reach him. But that only motivated her more in defeating Hawkmoth. Only then she would be able to leave Paris. 

Living in Paris was nice, for the first time in her life she created a routine for herself. She had training with Master Fu in the mornings and she helped at the bakery during the afternoons. Every other day there would be an Akuma attack and she would step into her role as Ladybug. Other than that her life became pretty calm compared to what it was at the League. She even got the time to explore her creative side, drawing and sewing became her favorite hobbies.

But nothing ever stays the same for long, not for her. 

It was about one year and a half after the attack on the League, just as her Master was getting close to discovering the exact location of origin of the source of evil energy. They knew the owner of the Butterfly Miraculous knew how to read energies, being that what alerted him of the Ladybug Miraculous being activated after Mari was brought back from the dead, but they weren’t expecting him to be able to track them. Her Master energy was easier to locate, even with him being the Grand Guardian, because of his old age. 

To this day she wasn’t sure what exactly happened, only that one afternoon she felt as if the energy around shifted and became unbearable. Fearing the worst she went to her Master in search of guidance, but when she was nearing his house she saw him. Hawkmoth in the flesh. Around him were five Akumas previously defeated.

He was at a rooftop engaging Master Fu, who at the time had already transformed with the Turtle Miraculous, in a heated duel. At the side was Mayura, trying to reach the Miraculous Box that was secured inside a green dome. Not wasting one minute she transformed in a nearby alley and went into action attacking the Peacock wielder. She was ruthless in her blows, never leaving space for the other woman to attack. Chat Noir arrived a couple of minutes later and went for the akumatized people, but at that point it was already too late. Master Fu knew that would be his last day on earth, he didn't have the strength to fight and maintain the Box inside the safety dome, so he did the only thing he thought possible. He relinquished his position as the Grand Guardian of The Miraculous to Ladybug. 

The box immediately disappeared from the dome and appeared in Mari’s arms. Without wasting a second she used her hidden weapon and stabbed her opponent in the thigh in order to subdue her. Her cries of pain were enough to attract Hawkmoth's attention from Chat Noir, with whom he had just engaged in battle. He immediately went to comfort his partner, using his champions as a barricade to protect them. He escaped. Or rather Mari let him escape. Because she couldn't stop looking at her Master’s body. He was dead. Died protecting the Miraculous. Inside her she felt some piece of her break. Death wasn’t new for her, but it felt surreal to believe the man that saw her grow and taught her almost everything she knew was dead. But there was no time to mourn, a soldier only mourned after the war, and this war was far from being over. But at that moment, looking at the lifeless body of her Master she made a vow to herself. 

She would not rest until Hawkmoth perished.

And she would make sure that before he did, it hurt

Next

Another fresh capther for all of you. To be honest I had planned this chapter to be compleatly different, but I was inspired and just lost myself, and when I realised I couldn’t finish this chapter anyother way. Hope you all liked it! Fell free to leave a comment with your theories of what’s going to happen next! (Also, the taglist still open)

WARNING: Major character death; description o violence.

Ladybug suit was inspired by this drawing from Eden Daphne 

Taglist:  @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13  @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @blackroserelina @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie @meismu @dorkus-minimus @a4-machete @arty-shadow-morningstar @catthhay @sizzling-fairy-oil @poodapup @charme-de-malchan @jayjayspixiepop @fusser90 @adrestar @iloontjeboontje @buginetye @macncheesemonster

[heretherebedork]

Liveblog of Gen Y2 ep 2

Screw it, why not?

Starts about 10 minutes into the episode.

Tell me if you want me to keep this up, lol.

Oh, look, it's sad Wayu hour. Shocker, that. Wayu, being sad? Never. That never happens. Who would have expected him to be moping in his room? I mean... at least he's not actively crying? I guess?

Thanu. I'm fairly sure you can act. Why are you so boring in this relationship?

I don't care. Like, I'm watching this but mostly talking to @absolutebl about Stage of Love and thinking of adding a little note to my master post about it not being a good starting V-BL because it's VERY much in what I'd consider the V-BL style and needs a little understanding to appreciate. Unless you're me and V-BL turns out to be your favorite and then you love it instantly.

... I still don't care about Yu and Thanu aka tears and the piece of wood.

Yu, just go and be single for like a DAY and you'll feel better. I promise.

Yay, back to Mark and Kit! Awww. But seriously, darling, you're still a med student and you're going to just... figure out a way to cure your friend? Good luck, boo, I guess?

At least they're cute AF still. And Mark is just darling and the love each other so much. I love how understanding Mark is of everything Kit does and doesn't do. He's just so sweet with him and so loving and so patient. Ugh. Babies. And Kit showing his love in his own ways as well! Love them! And casual little kisses. Yay!

JACK AND KOH, CHAOS BABIES. Now make out!

Do I know that actor? I don't know! I can't tell! DAMNIT.

Oh, dramatic sad staring. Definitely... definitely needed that?

POK AND TONG. MY BABIES. THEY EXIST.

He walks over specifically to share the mirror, oh Pok, my tiny little darling in love, I adore you. You can't even stop staring at Tong for like a second. UGH. My cuties. MY CUTIES.

YES HOLD HANDS MY CUTIES. Damnit my cutie idiots, I love you so much but wtf is your relationship.

If I roll my eyes much harder, they might actually see me roll my eyes from Thailand.

Awww, Sab is a good boy.

I'm real tired of listening to cheering.

The way Tong smiles at him... ugh, these two are shockingly domestic despite their issues. All we need is for them to actually TALK and everything would be better. I bet that'll happen... never.

Ugh, Pok staring at Tong over his shoulder and Tong smiling back, I could just DIE.

Did not need to go back to Thanu staring at Yu, much less interesting.

dfk;ls the way these boys look at each other and just keep staring despite everything else going on around them. BABIES.

Chaos boys! Please just flirt with each other and get together. A+ choice. Oh, wait, actual choice? Yes please. I love the background music. What cuties. CHAOS CUTIES.

lol Matchmaker Mark

Back to MY BABIES.

ALL THEY DO IS FLIRT.

Goddamn yes please. My boys and their flirting and their kissing weirdness and their failure to communicate on every possible level.

Tong, we all know you already fell for Pok. Why are you trying to deny this? He's been very clear about his feelings! What is the POINT of denying it?

I love these two so much. Just SO MUCH.

And back to sad Yu. Just what I expected. It was too good to last.

Yu, he literally already said he was choosing you, wtf is this whole 'will you choose me' bullshit about?

Thanu, you are in fact a blank piece of wood whenever you think about Yu and I don't care. Sorry, boo. Hey, you know, maybe you weren't meant to be together if neither of you can manage a single conversation?

BACK TO BEST BOYS.

They tease and play. Seriously, if Pok and Tong could just get a step more communication, even just a single serious conversation, they'd be unstoppable. "Wear my shirt so it's like I'm with you all the time." sjdgkldfn BABIES.

Tong challenges Pok for... no reason whatsoever? What is this romance between these two idiots? They're both obviously in love and Pok is SO open about it and Tong keeps semi-denying it but is obviously in love too.

Oh, that comment hit a little close to home. Baby Kit.

DARTH SANDEE. Man, Darth Sandee is definitely on your side of the soulmate issue, @leofiat-bunny.

I love Pok so much.

Or, poor Phai. He's just doing his best to give up on his love because he wants Yu to be happy. Phai is tiny angel. Boy deserves the best.

Ugh, Phai and Yu running next to each other is painful because this really isn't a race at all. Thanu literally made his choice last season this is just Yu fighting with himself. And that's what makes it so dumb. Like, it''s not even a real triangle of any sort. Phai gave up on this! Thanu said he wasn't picking him!

DARTH SANDEE STRIKES AGAIN.

Ugh, Phai is basically perfect. Will this get through to Yu? Probably not.

Phai deserves his own love interest, seriously. Poor boy.

YU STOP IT. For fuck's sake, Yu, STOP IT. Just accept that Thanu picked you and GET OVER YOURSELF. /grumbles

I genuinely don't think I could care less about a couple than I do about Yu and Thanu.

Oh, look, the end of the episode! Wow.

Please talk some sense into Yu, Mark, seriously. Maybe he'll listen to you. MAYBE.

Awww, no preview of poktong. booo.

[unmaskedagain]

Daddy’s Little Villain

So this prompt I think I got months ago. I meant to work on it for quite some time but I never got around to it. I got inspired yesterday so I decided to take a shot. I went completely off memory for this. Its been a while since I watched Young Justice or any of the DC animated shows; apart from the new Harley Quinn one. So sorry about what I got wrong.

A clown with a killer punchline.

A lantern of terror.

The king of Metropolis.

The master of shadows.

A destroyer of worlds.

Different faces, powers, histories but all categorized under one name.

Supervillain.

           Ruthless, intelligent, powerful, charismatic, tempting; villains reflect just how easily and quickly this planet, if not the universe could fall under their might. However, none of them started out evil. None of them were born evil. No one is born to be evil.

           Marinette, however, came very, very close.

           Her biological father was one of the first that came to mind when anyone thought of a Supervillian. He personally had killed thousands, and arranged the deaths of tens of thousands more. He conquered kingdoms, destroyed dynasties, annihilated empires, controlled governments, and used presidents, kings, any old politician as puppets on strings.

           And he was a good dad.

           He made sure Marinette had the best of everything. The best tutors, the best trainers, the best bodyguards (though Marinette had only ever seen them out of the corner of her eye; hiding in the shadows).

He was even okay with Tom Dupain being a father figure to his daughter. Tom had married Sabine when Marinette was four. However, the acceptance of this came after several failed assassination attempts after the first time Marinette called Tom Papa. Sabine hadn’t been happy that to have protect her new husband from assassins sent by her jealous baby daddy.

Marinette spend most of her days pretending to be a normal girl. The rest of the time she was being trained by near unstoppable assassins in every manner of fighting style her body could handle, learning how to speak various different languages ranging from Spanish to whatever the hell Atlantians’ spoke, hacking and computer skills from former spies, and being taught strategy from some of the greatest military minds that could be bought. (And this was one top of her duties as Ladybug because her dad was still a bit of an asshole.)

He just wanted what was best for her. And he made sure Marinette knew she was loved. He sent her presents every week, letters every day, and she woke to fresh roses in her room every morning.

           The presents ranged from diamond tiaras to ancient samurai swords; anything she so much as mildly expressed an interest in was always found at the foot of her bed the next day. The letters were always thoughtful and kind; always wanting to know about her day, and how she was doing. They would appear in her desk sometime during the day. Marinette would leave a reply via email because she was a sane person of the year 2020. She’d wake to red roses every morning to remind her she was special to him. Sometimes she handed them out at school. Other times she gave them away to any pedestrian who looked like they needed a pick me up.

           He was a good dad, even if he was never actually around. They talked on the phone and over video chat as much as they could.

           He was busy. She understood that.

           Trying to take over the world wasn’t easy. It certainly wasn’t the average 9 to 5 job. The Light needed him.

           She forgave him for that; just like she forgave him for all the things he did to… ensure the future he envisioned became a reality. They were distasteful, immoral, and most of the time she didn’t have the stomach to listen to 1/12 of all the things he did or orchestrated.

           Marinette was always fine with staying out of it. Unlike most Supervillian kids, she never had any interest in taking her place in the family business. Or doing the opposite and doing everything she could to take their villainous family down. No, she had better things to do.

           And her father was just fine with that. He could forgive Marinette for wanting a normal life. He just wanted her happy, safe, and well cared for. He kept the Light and Cadmus out of Paris as best as he could.

           He could even forgive his little girl when she adorned a mask and became the Hero Ladybug. Though it did prevent him from recruiting Hawkmoth into the fold; he wouldn’t have been more than cannon fodder but still. As long as Ladybug kept out battle between good and evil that encased the rest of the world, the city of Paris, France could be hers. Hell, he would even give it to his baby girl as a birthday present should her desire for it arise. It would be good preparation should he need someone trustworthy and loyal to rule the rest of Europe.

           Still he was quick to stop any admiration for the heroes of Justice League. Or at least make sure his daughter didn’t put them on a pedestal like the rest of the world did.

“But they’re the good guys,” She remembered her seven-year-old self protesting. At the time Marinette hadn’t really understood that her father was considered one of the ‘Bad Guys.’ “The heroes.”

“I believe the Justice League’s actions leaves humanity weak,” He told her. “However, even if I didn’t find fault in them, they are only people. They make mistakes. There is good and evil in them; few realize just how easily one side could win over the other.”

           Marinette frowned, “You mean go bad. They won’t go bad. They fight for justice and what’s right.”

“What’s right is subjective,” He warned her. “And justice is in the eye of the beholder.”

“But-but they’re superheroes!”

“You know what’s more dangerous that a villain?” He asked her. “Someone who refuses to acknowledge that anyone can become one.”

           He would say more on the subject later until he was sure Marinette understood.

           He loved his daughter with all of his heart. And Marinette returned the favor.

           So when rumors spread, not long after Hawkmoth’s permanent defeat, that the Light’s founder had fallen; was dead, killed in action, murdered by superheroes, Marinette’s heart broke. She always knew the risks of her father’s job, the dangers this world had in it; it was survival of the fittest after all, that was what he taught her.

           Nevertheless, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt; that it didn’t burn. And for the first time, the darkest part of her, the part of her that was all her father’s daughter, wanted to make the world feel her pain. However, Marinette was better than that. She wouldn’t blame the world for her sorrows.  She refuse to set fire to everyone and everything just because she wanted to vengeance.

           No, she was smarter than that. Her father, had he still lived, would expect better from her.

           Marinette blamed the Justice League; wonder woman, superman, the Green Lantern. She blamed. Artemis. She blamed Aqualad. She blamed Miss Martian. She blamed Superboy. She blamed Kid flash. She blamed all of Young Justice who set up the plan to bring down the light. (Apart from Batman and Robin who been in Gotham because Robin had all but on his death bed after a fight with DeathStroke.). And they would burn for taking her father from her.

           …The only problem was that Marinette wasn’t a killer. She didn’t want to be one unless she had no other choice. So she had to think of another way to get her revenge.

           The plan had started out very simple. Slowly the hero Ladybug would start being seen outside Paris; fighting random villains’ here and there; captain cold one day, the cheetah next. Never seen in the same place twice. Rumors spread that she was looking for someone; her partner, Chat Noir. It helped that Chat Noir had been seen in months.

           It was just a rumor, of course. Chat Noir had been officially retired. All kwami were taken back. Marinette wasn’t using Tikki to power herself up. No, she refused to use them like Hawkmoth had done. Instead, they were put away and were very well cared for; like well pampered, spoiled pets.

           Marinette used her money to buy a replica of her Ladybug suit; better armored though. She used her private plane to travel around wherever she needed to go. The more villains she fought, the more the rumor of the heartbroken Ladybug hunting down the Light to find her partner grew.

           The only downside was that Ladybug was rapidly gaining enemies left and right. It wasn’t long before The Light sent people after her. Ladybug was quick to send their minions back to them all but in a body bag.

           She had been approached multiple times be members of the Justice League; even teamed up with them multiple times to save the day. They never even feel the near microscopic camera she puts in them. It degrades three hours after but it’s plenty of time for Marinette to get the information she needs.

           It took two months for Marinette to learn the identities of nearly every member of the Justice League. She’s quick to destroy any secret identity evidence for anyone who didn’t wrong her. The batfamily was spared. The Green Arrow and his family was spared. (One day soon Oliver Queen would thank his lucky stars that Speedy went solo instead of joining Young Justice. And that Cheshire, who had a thing for the redhead, was an old friend of Marinette’s, whether the older girl remember the bluenette or not.)

           The family of Steal would burn though. As would fastest family alive. The king of ocean and his sidekicks. The “human” identities of the worlds’ favorite Martians. Woman Wonder and her sidekick. The Green Lanterns.

           The Justice League never saw her coming. All they saw was a pretty fourteen-year-old girl with tears in her big blue eyes as she swore it was her duty to right this wrong. She would fight the light on her own. A young hero, they thought, who did realize just how over her head she really was. Pity was always clear in their eyes. Every time Marinette refused their offer of help, said she could handle it herself.

           Marinette was just biding her time. She still needed the identities of Young Justice. When she got that, she would strike. Hard.

           It only took three months, and Cadmus capturing little Miss Martian.

           By the time, Young Justice arrived Ladybug had already been on the scene. Marinette had already freed an injured Miss Martian and they were trying to fight their way out. The bluenette was beaten, battered, and bleeding.  The two girls did their best to fight the bad guys that seemed to come in a never ending storm. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded.

“Go,” She whispered to the green girl. Marinette had always placed the cameras. She didn’t need to alien any longer. “You can fly. Go. I’ll hold them off, okay.”

“I won’t leave you,” Miss Martian shook her adamantly.

           Marinette frown, “You have to. You know what Cadmus. You know what these monster will do to you. You have go before it’s too late.”

“I will not!”

“Don’t be a hero!” Ladybug snapped.

“Why?!” A new voice called. Robin landed in front of them. The rest of the Young Justice was “It’s our job.”

           The fight was epic. And Marinette could admit that the members of Young Justice were skilled. But they had to be to take down her father, so it wasn’t surprising. Still, she managed to put a camera on each and every one of them.

           When it was over, and it was clear more of Cadmus’ henchman were arriving, Young Justice made moves to flee…

           Until they realized Ladybug had no intention of coming with them.

“He’s not in there,” Miss Martian told her gently.

“You don’t know that,” Ladybug murmured.

“I do,” Again the pity was clear in redhead’s eyes.

           Ladybug shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t give up. I won’t!”

           Robin put a hand on her shoulder, “Chat Noir isn’t in there.”

“Getting yourself killed will not help him,” Aqualad stated.

           Ladybug nodded, gave them a small smile, and then made a break for the Cadmus lab. Then Marinette felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and everything went black.

           She woke up in the infirmary of what she guess was the Young Justice headquarters. With a huff, she got up and marched out of the room. It didn’t take her long to find the teen heroes lounging in their living room. “You guys are jerks!” She yelled at them.

           Kid Flash snorted, “We saved you from yourself.”

“Oh you self-righteous little-” Marinette groaned. “I can’t believe you! I can take care of myself” She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

“Oh yeah because that proves it,” Artemis laughed.

“I’m a hero too, you know?”

           Robin nodded. “Everyone knows about Ladybug. But you’re like thirteen.”

“Fourteen! And a half!” Marinette corrected. “Which is basically fifteen.”

           The older heroes just looked at her, and then burst out laughing.

           Marinette forced herself to think of her most embarrassing memory so that her face would heat up and it would look like she turned red from embarrassment. As if she care what they thought.

           The bluenette grabbed a slice of pizza and asked politely for someone to send her back to Paris. She needed to regroup, she claimed.

           They tried to convince her to stay. Or let Young Justice or the Justice League help her but she refused. Marinette was back in Paris ten minutes later.

           She had the identities of every member of Young Justice an hour after that.

           It was time.

           Ladybug “tracking” down the Light had been an experience. Technically, she knew enough to figure out various locations they used. However, she also knew enough to know that Ladybug just showing up there would get her killed. It was a move of an amateur hero. And Marinette was done thinking like a hero.

           So she put down her mask, ditched her Ladybug gear, and got on a plane. Marinette arrived in Metropolis on a windy Tuesday morning.

           It took her until Friday to hack into Lex Luther’s secretary’s calendar to figure where the King of the Metropolis was scheduled to be and another week to decipher the Light’s next meeting. Hacking into pentagon was easier.

           Marinette waited watched from the shadows of the remote island she found herself on. She watched as villain after villain arrived. Until Lex Luther, surrounded by bodyguards and personal assistants, arrived in his private jet.

“Mr. Luther!” Marinette called as she stepped out of the shadows where she was hiding.

           Guns were immediately pulled on her. The secretary, Mercy, hand suddenly became weaponized. The surprise on their faces were clear. Particularly when they saw the small teen girl standing there.

           Marinette smiled.

“And you are?” Lex asked, only mildly intrigued. He wondered just who the child was that managed to be sneak up his men and possible the rest of the Light.

“My name is Marinette,” She answered. “But you and the Light know me as Ladybug. I mean you no harm.”

           Lex narrowed his eyes at her. He could see the resemblance. Ladybug and Marinette had the same stature, the same eye color, and looked to be the same age. Still, it could be a trick.

“Two months ago, I broke into one of your building.” Marinette said. “The break in was the news but LexCorp assured that nothing was taken. That wasn’t true. I took the Cuban cigars out of the safe behind the Rembrandt painting. Please. I merely wish to speak with the Light. Somewhere… not even gods among us can hear.”

           Well, that assured the villain that it wasn’t a trick.  However, for the first time in his life, Lex Luther found himself confused. On one day, Ladybug had been a slowly become a thorn in the Light’s side. On the other hand, the hero had just revealed her identity and now just wanted to talk. About what, Lex yearned to know.

           Lex nodded, “Mercy will check you for weapons. Then you will be escorted inside safely. Whether you leave alive will be up for debate.”

           Marinette sighed in relief and raised her hands. Mercy, who the bluenette tried to figure out whether she was a robot or a cyborg, was very thorough. She even scanned Marinette’s phone for any traces of explosives.

           When it was done Marinette found herself escorted inside, and then found herself a cliché Supervillian lair staring down the greatest supervillains in the world. Ra's al Ghul, Black Manta, Queen Bee, Klarion, Deathstroke, Ocean Master, and their operatives Hugo Strange, Bane, Sports Master, and Cheshire all sat at a large round table. There was four pieces of glass hanging from the ceiling in front of them; monitors, Marinette figured.

And it was clear from the anger on the faces that the bad guys had been informed of exactly who Marinette was.

           It was daunting, to say the least.

“You have our attention, Miss Marinette,” Lex said. “Do not waste it.”

           Marinette nodded, “I have information on the Justice League I thought the Light would be very interested in.”

“Why would a hero do such a thing?”  Ra's al Ghul asked. “Hoping to make a deal? Your information for the return of Chat Noir, perhaps?”

           The leader of the League of Shadows didn’t know why the rumor persevered that the Light kidnapped the Parisian hero. He had confirmed himself that it was highly inaccurate.  

           The bluenette giggled, “Chat Noir no longer exists. He was retired at the same time as Hawkmoth. The Light has never had him. Neither did Cadmus. It was just heavily implied.”

“Yet that didn’t stop you from destroying our labs,” Lex glared. “Ruining missions, capturing my associates. Months of research. Millions of dollars. Gone to hell.”

“You were a tool,” Marinette shrugged. “I used to you get to close to the Justice League. It was never personal.”

           Lex felt eye twitch. He should have Mercy shoot her on principle.

“You’re more annoying than Robin,” Deathstroke shook his head at the moxy of the girl.

“It was just business?” She offered. “I needed a way to make them pay.”

“Just… just business,” Lex pinched his nose. He was going to kill her. “What could you possible offer the Light that would stop us from destroying you and everyone you love?”

           Marinette smirked. She pulled out her phone and hacked into the monitors. Once she was done, and played a video. The villains watched on the screens with old mild interest on their faces. Slowly the interest faded as shock and astonished looks overtook it.

           Lex’s felt his entire body shake. The video had shown undeniable proof that Superman was secretly Clark Kent. It was what he dreams were made of. He could barely stop himself from snatching the phone out of Marinette’s hand and playing it the video over and over again.

           Lex forced himself to calm down. He looked at the bluenette hard. A part of him wanted offer to pay as much money as the girl could want for the video. Another part of him realized if Marinette had been a little older he would’ve proposed.

“Superman’s civilian name is Clark Kent.” Marinette smiled, “I have video proof of nearly every member of the Justice League’s secret identities; along with their sidekicks.”

           The statement was met with silence. Each villain contemplating the ramifications of what such information could mean; not just for them, but for the world.”

“I think that’s worth a little forgiveness,” Marinette slyly added. “What’s few million dollars in damages compared to bringing down the Justice League once and for all.”

           Klarion chuckled, “I suppose some things can be overlooked.”

“Why?” Black Manta asked. “That is what we should be asking. Why betray the heroes?”

“Justice,” Marinette shrugged. “Revenge. I blame them for the death of my father.”

“That’s a good a reason as any,” Cheshire said. Her mask still hid her face.

           Sportsmaster gave his daughter a side look, “You never tried to take down any heroes any of the times you thought I died,” He complained.

“Sorry,” Cheshire shrugged. “I was too busy eating ice cream and getting drunk off my ass; it’s how I usually celebrate.”

“Why come to us?” Ra's al Ghul asked still intrigued.

“Why wouldn’t she?” A new voice rang through the room. Marinette stumbled back in shock. She knew that voice. But that wasn’t possible. Right? “The Light is in her blood.”

           Door opened and in walked bane of nearly every hero in the world, the Founder of the light, Vandal Savage. “You’ve done well, daughter.”

           Her father looked exactly the same as she remember. He was tall, with broad shoulder and square jaw; three pale scars across his face. His hair was longer though, much longer, and was pulled back

           Marinette rushed over to him and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly.

“I thought you were dead,” Marinette whispered. Tears stung her eyes. “Everyone said you were dead.”

           Vandal smiled gently at her, “And you decided to bring down the world’s heroes in my name. I’m truly touched,” He said. “I wasn’t dead but I was close. I got better.”

           The bluenette backed away from her father; realization slowly hit her.

“It’s been months,” Marinette ran a hand through her hair. “You have any idea what I’ve gone through, what I did! You suck! Ugh, I’m telling Mom!”

Sabine Cheng would show Vandal Savage a thing or two once she found out. She was the one who had to dry her daughter’s tears day after day once the news of Savage’s death broke. The Asian woman was possibly only one infamous Vandal Savage was afraid of.

           The others villains watched, entranced by the argument between father and daughter.

“You gallivanted around as hero,” Vandal reminded. “To get close the Justice League; leaving me to wonder if in my absence I had lost my daughter to the so-called forces of good. It turned out all my worrying was for naught.”

“You could’ve called!” Marinette complained. “Wrote. Something to tell me you were alive. Anything.”

“At the time it was best decision.”

           Marinette glared, “You seriously for even one second I’d team up with the Justice League? Really? Me?” She glared. “I’m NEVER talking to you again!”

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” Vandal assured the bluenette. “We can kill Superman together.”

“Actually,” Lex interrupted. “I have dips.”

           Vandal shot him a quick glare.

The teen girl crossed her arms, “Give me one reason I shouldn’t destroy everything I have on the Justice League?” She asked. “And before any of you threatened to kill me. I only brought the Superman video as insurance. I die; you will never get your hands of the rest of them. So again,” She hissed at her father. “Give me one reason I should hand over my Intel to the Light?”

“…Father’s day’s coming up?” Vandal offered.

“Dammit!”

           Marinette stumped over to an empty seat, next to Cheshire, and glared petulantly at the inhabitants of the room. She didn’t care that it made her look like a little kid.

           An awkward silence filled the room.

           Luther took the opportunity to finally start the meeting as it was the reason they were all there. It was long. It dragged on. Even with Marinette’s intelligence on the Justice League. Everything felt like a stuffy board meeting. Nowhere near as exciting as Marinette once imagined it would be.

           The meeting took a short break. Food was brought out. A small buffet. Marinette made herself a plate; she grabbed a fancy steak sandwich, some fruit and chips, and a rather large chocolate cupcake because she freaking deserved it. She thought she was done until her plate was grabbed by her father. He didn’t hesitate to put baked Brussel sprouts provided on her plate.

“Oh come on! No one likes Brussel sprouts,” Marinette complained. “Not even you’re that evil.”

“They’re good for you,” Vandal told his daughter. “And you will eat them.”

“You’re seeing this too, right?” Deathstroke, otherwise known as Slade, asked Bane. “It’s not just me.”

As they ate, the villains shared stories about what they’d been up to. Most just complained about the problems they were having with the Justice League; who fought who, who should they consider for Light membership, and anyone getting on their nerves.

“Some assholes decided to send the wannabe Villain current status moron after me,” Marinette cast a dark look around the room; making it clear she knew they sent the assassin. She didn’t get as much as a single sheepish look. “He kept trying to light me of fire. And then he was accidently pushed off the top of a building, twice.”

Ra's al Ghul nodded at the young girl, “I would like to mention that I have an heir not much younger than you. You would get along quite well, I believe.”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes at Leader of the League of shadows, “Are you seriously trying to get me to date your grandson right now?”

           Al Ghul didn’t answer her.

Marinette took the opportunity to excuse herself from having to come back, “I’m going to explore the island.” And then see if she could escape before her dad caught her.

“I always blew up your boat,” Vandal raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be taking you home myself.”

“You suck!”

“Love you too, sweetpea.”

           Marinette marched out of the room. She’d swim if she had too.

           It turned out she didn’t have to swim. Just hotwire Deathstroke’s ride.

           She got a video call fifteen minutes after taking off.

“Go for Marinette?” She answered cheerfully.

           Vandal Savage’s face appear on the screen, “You stole Slade’s helicopter.”

“Juuussst like you taught me.” Marinette smirked.

[grigori77]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Picture Kevin, three years old, running after his mother on awkward too-short legs in the park across the street from their home.  She laughs and grabs his little hands, swooping him off the ground in a great arc and he squeals and kicks his feet and shouts, “Again, mummy, again!”  He seems to glow in the sun, and Kayleigh had never thought that love could be like this, something so big and all-encompassing it feels like pain.

Picture Kevin, four years old, already learning to read; at first Kayleigh thought it was memorization of his favorite books, but one day at the library he finds a book with a frog and a toad and he sounds out words on his own.  Her heart swells with pride, and she kisses him on the top of his head and brushes back his silky hair and the frog and toad book finds its way home with them.

Picture Kevin, five years old, coming home from school bubbling with excitement day after day.  “I made a new friend, mummy.”  “Did you know that a long time ago Ireland was covered with ice, mummy?  And there were furry el-fants and huge deers and all kinda stuff that’s gone stinked now.”  “We drew today and I drew you and me and we were playing exy and the teacher said it was really really good.”  “I know maths now, mummy.  So much maths.”  After school he pulls out his legos and starts adding to the giant structure that has taken over one corner of their living room.  “It’s a castle, mummy.  It’s s’posed to be big.”

Picture Kevin, six years old, leading Kayleigh through the streets from shop to shop.  Gravely saying hello to the shop owners, who smothered their smiles and exchanged looks with Kayleigh over Kevin’s head.  He talked about fish to the grocer and dinosaurs to the bookstore cashier and space to the pharmacist and then ran into the green to kick a ball around with some kids from school.  “I like football okay, mum, but it’s not as much fun as exy.”  They put on music in the car and he sings along, not caring if he’s in tune, just singing for the pure joy of it.  Kayleigh wonders when she started becoming afraid of people who couldn’t even hear her; how many years had it been since she hadn’t cared what anybody thought?  She turns up the music and sings along too.

Picture Kevin, seven years old, in tiny exy gear, playing in little league.  He throws himself into it with abandon; sometimes the ball ends up in the little stands set up around the pint-sized court; sometimes he releases too late and it just bounces sadly off the ground; once it ricocheted off the low wall and whacked him in the shoulder.  He rubbed at it, glaring at the offending ball, but two seconds later he was laughing and leaping back into the fray.  He knocked a defender over, then stopped to extend a hand to help him up, and they hugged it out while someone else scored.  Afterwards the defender went out with them for pizza and they talked about space robots for a solid hour until Kayleigh was ready to scream.

Picture Kevin, eight years old.  Somber.  Lost.  Riko, promising to be his friend, and Kevin swallowing against the lump in his throat and nodding.  Riko, a dark-eyed island in the sea of grief.

Picture Kevin, nine years old.  Riko made good on his promise; he’s Kevin’s friend, his only friend; his brother, in all but genetics.  Kevin trains, and he doesn’t make mistaken throws anymore.  His footwork is sure.  Tetsuji praises him, and he basks in the words, and vows to train harder.

Picture Kevin, ten years old.  Riko drawing a 2 on his cheek; Kevin returning the favor, the 1 he draws precise, painstaking.  “We are the best,” Riko murmurs, “you and me,” and Kevin smiles.  One of the college students plays some music in the locker room, and Kevin remembers this song—the melody, the words.  The song plays through his head, and he longs to sing along, but Riko ignores it and Kevin closes his mouth on the lyrics.  He can hear something, in the Master’s locked office behind him; a muffled thud, and a groan, and somehow it’s louder than the music.

Picture Kevin, eleven years old.  They go on a trip to a natural history museum, something their tutor recommended.  Riko wanders around, haughty and bored; Kevin trails after.  The placards at the exhibits call to him; so many facts, laid out before him; a real mammoth skeleton towers above, and Kevin wants nothing more than to gape at the enormous curving tusks, but Riko tugs him away.  “This stuff doesn’t matter,” Riko says.  “We’re going to make Court.  We’re going to build Court our way, and it will be perfect.”  Kevin wonders if perfect is worth it, but then swallows down the traitorous thought.

Picture Kevin, twelve years old.  Already there are murmurs.  Of his greatness, of Riko’s.  Together, they are unstoppable.  The Master tells them they would be the best, and they do not wish to prove him wrong.  Always, Riko is with him; except once in a rare while when the Master takes him away.   At first, he would come back pale and shaken, and Kevin would hear him sniffling in his bed; but that stopped a long time ago.  Riko never talks about what they do.  “Moriyama stuff,” he said, stiff and proud.  They meet a new player; a possible recruit, for Riko’s Perfect Court.  Nathaniel’s tiny and fast and he laughs as he intercepts a ball from Kevin that he never should’ve even had a chance at, and for a few moments Kevin thinks he can remember what it was like when his mother would cheer him on.  Then the three of them are brought up, up to the tower where they meet Nathaniel’s father who looks just like him, and Kevin learns what “Moriyama stuff” really is.

Picture Kevin, thirteen years old.  Someone asks him in an interview, after his team wins the Little League championships again, about how it feels to follow in his mother’s footsteps.  He doesn’t even really know what he says; he’d been coached on this so many times it was all automatic.  But that night all he can think about is that he doesn’t remember his mother’s voice anymore.  He doesn’t cry; he can’t cry, there’s nowhere that he’s safe.  For he’s not really a Day anymore, except in name, and he knows too well what it means to be a Moriyama.

Picture Kevin, fourteen years old.  A new recruit arrives, and this one won’t run in the night like Nathaniel did.  He doesn’t speak a lot of English, and he’s taller than Kevin, and he doesn’t know why he’s there.  One day he checks Riko into the boards, and that’s when Jean first starts to learn his place.  Riko and Kevin—they had already learned.  That night Kevin holds Jean in his arms as tears leak from his eyes unbidden, and they don’t talk, lest they be found. 

Picture Kevin, fifteen years old.  They play against the college students now.  Faster.  Harder.  More.  At night, he soothes his aching muscles by delving over his books.  He was smart, the tutor told him; he could study anything he wanted.  But it was history that drew him, history that was endlessly fascinating.  Who knew that facts were such subjective things?  So many layers to unpeel, to distract.  

Picture Kevin, sixteen years old.  Pro teams already are banging down the doors for contracts for the pair of them, but they will have to wait.  The professional leagues have less status than the NCAAs; the Master had already decided that they would use the pros as summer training, nothing more.  He pored over college tape instead of worrying about it.  He knew all the coaches in NCAA exy, all their styles.  Except Coach Wymack, who was new.  Coach Wymack, a bleeding heart with a hopeless future at a mid-sized university.  Oh, the university would humor him, for hadn’t Kevin’s mother taught him?  But they would lose patience, once they realized he could not win.  Kevin would pity him, but pity was for the weak.  He thought he remembered reaching a hand out to a fallen player, but he must have made that up.  He would never be afforded the luxury of kindness.

Picture Kevin, seventeen years old.  A letter, creased and yellowed in his hand.  Jean, wide-eyed beside him as he studied the writing in a strong and graceful hand.  “Will you tell him?” Jean asks, little more than a whisper lest the Master come in and see what Kevin found, hidden in a history book that had no doubt remained unopened for a decade.  Kevin refolded it, slowly, carefully.  “There’s nothing to tell.”  And if Jean noticed him tucking the letter into his jacket pocket, he didn’t say a thing.  That night, he charmed one of the college students to pass over a bottle of vodka, and he relished the burn down his throat, the way it made him forget.

Picture Kevin, eighteen years old.  Newly annointed to Court, Riko by his side.  He raises his chin as the cameras click all around him, the smile on his lips foreign and familiar.  He knows his press smile, his press laugh, his press voice.  He doesn’t remember what his real one is anymore.  He looks at Riko, laughing easily next to him, and he thinks there was a time without that glint in his brother’s eyes, without that cruel note to his voice, but then he thinks maybe he was fooling himself all along.  

Picture Kevin, nineteen years old.  Watching Riko, sprinting up the court, waiting for the pass.  Kevin has a clear shot; a guaranteed goal; but he pivots and throws to Riko instead.  Two seconds later the goal lights up red, and Riko is celebrating.  Kevin swallows down the bile in his throat and joins in the cheer.  Thea looks at him from across the court and shakes her head, but she never says a thing.  She’s never felt the sharp edge of Riko’s cruelty, but rumors travel fast underground.  She may not know, but she has held onto Kevin in the dark and helped him find relief from the pain.

Picture Kevin, twenty years old.  His legs are bruised in stripes from the Master’s cane, from Riko’s racquet; he’s slumped on the hotel room floor.  Nothing feels real, anymore; it hasn’t for a long time.  He cradles his hand against his chest, but he doesn’t see the red; just the green green fields and cobbled streets.  He doesn’t hear his own shallow breaths, whistling through his teeth; just his mother’s voice, that he thought he had forgotten, singing off key.  Softly at first, then louder.  Jean pulls him to feet he can barely feel, and he presses his forehead to Kevin’s, and he whispers in the accent he never surrendered, “Go, and be safe.”  And Kevin goes, but he knows not what safety is.

Picture Kevin, twenty one years old.  He feels scraped raw; has, since the day Jean whispered in his ear; like his hand has healed, but he was dragged across cement every day without end.  Only Andrew keeps him here, keeps him from bleeding out upon the ground.  He’s not certain if his facade is intact, but he reaches deep inside himself and finds it.  Neil’s fighting him, and somehow that helps; if he focuses on Neil’s idiotic stubborn streak he can forget that the last time he was here he had Riko by his side.  He walks out onto the stage to a round of applause, and Andrew is staring up at him with those eyes and he can breathe a little easier.  But then—he’s there.  Riko is there, and his cruelty has been whetted like a blade.  Kevin has not forgotten its sharpness.  But Neil parries every blow of Riko’s, and he’s stupid and he’s brave and Kevin wonders how on earth he got this way and he wonders if—if maybe he should try to learn.

Picture Kevin, twenty two years old.  The crowd is screaming; the stands are rumbling with the thunder of thousands of feet.  Neil is to one side of him; Andrew to the other.  They are becoming what he had once seen; the sculpture inside the marble, slowly being chiseled out.  The rest of the Foxes range behind him, and his father stands tall at the back.  Kevin takes a deep breath, drops the butt of his racquet to the ground, shifting it to his left hand.  The stadium quakes, and it should.  He takes a step onto the polished wood floor of the court he knew better than any in the world, and nothing will ever be the same.

[beybladefanboy]

Beyblade Seasons Ranked

Here is my personal ranking, from worst to best, of the seasons of Beyblade Metal Fight: Metal Fusion, Metal Masters, Metal Fury, and the awkward spin-off Shogun Steel. Yeah, let’s get into that:

4 Shogun Steel

Honestly even if I did like Shogun Steel for what it is, it would still be at the bottom just by default. It can barely be considered part of the Metal Saga. The main characters in the last three seasons are either absent or reduced to supporting roles in favour of new characters who aren’t nearly as interesting or likeable. It is by definition a spin off. It feels very disjointed from the rest of the series because of these factors along with the lighter tone, the changes to the Beyblade system, and even some continuity errors particularly with Fury. Bringing back Doji again was also the biggest leap in logic this whole series made and feels downright lazy. The whole story just feels like a watered down Fusion with many of the story beats being similar and some characters never growing past mere echoes of the old characters. Some of the bey battles are fun and Ren and Takanosuke are decent characters but there’s a reason this show doesn’t get much attention. It falls into the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy trap of being overly dependent on original series sucker punches for its appeal and not putting as much effort into the new stuff. So as a result, the new stuff, some of which has potential, isn’t as fleshed out as it should be. This show is honestly fine on its own but awful when compared to the Metal Saga and it is comparing itself to the Metal Saga. This show intentionally put itself in the Metal Saga’s shadow and seemed content with being just that: a shadow of greatness.

3 Metal Masters

Okay, this is where I’m gonna start pissing people off. Don’t get me wrong, Masters is great and I don’t think it’s clearly worse than the other two seasons or anything. I think the main three seasons are very close in quality and putting them in any kind of order was incredibly difficult. However, I do think Masters is slightly weaker than Fusion and Fury. First off, it introduces Masamune. I don’t like Masamune. I find his whole “I’m the number 1 blader” shtick incredibly obnoxious and he’s everything I don’t like in real Americans: self absorbed, disloyal, big mouthed, entitled, and just annoying in general. He did have good character development over the course of the season but I personally can’t stand him. The pacing of this season also isn’t the best. With the exception of the Dark Tsubasa arc (which I’ll get to!), the season is just a normal world tournament until they get to America, which I don’t find very interesting. Kenta is also criminally underused. In Fusion he was basically a second main character and there are some episodes specifically following him. Then in Masters, he’s pushed aside in favour of side characters. People say Fury underused characters, and I’ll get to that, but holy crap, Masters gave Kenta no room to grow. Aside from him though, the other characters are used really well. I particularly like how Kyoya and Ryuga are incorporated. This is actually the season where I grew attached to Ryuga during my viewing in December. I was starting to like him in Fusion but this season cemented my newfound attachment. This season also gave us the dark Tsubasa arc, which is one of my favourite plot points from the show overall. It’s a fascinating look into the mind of a character I already really liked and it allowed Tsubasa to develop a lot. I love the conclusion that you cannot drive out the darkness in yourself, you have to accept it as part of who you are in order to properly control it. It’s brilliant, and I can personally relate this message to my own life. The dark Tsubasa arc is probably the strongest part of the season overall as the rest of it until we get to the HD Academy conflict kind of drags for me. However, when we do finally get to the HD Academy conflict, it is very fun. The whole “spiral energy” thing was actually pretty creative and while brainwashing isn’t a new concept for this show, I think they went more in depth with it in this season and it was pretty interesting. So yeah, still a really good season.

2 Metal Fusion

If I was ranking based on nostalgia, this would be number one. In fact, it probably deserves to be number one. However, I do have a few problems with this season that hold it back and it’s not the pacing. Actually, out of all the seasons, Fusion probably has the best pacing. The main villains, Doji and Ryuga, are introduced early in the season and all the characters are developed throughout the season, building up to the final tournament: Battle Bladers, which is also set up fairly early. The story is predictable but very well-structured. My biggest problem with this season is the plot twist with Gingka’s dad. Not only is it painfully obvious, but the reveal of the twist drags the plot to a screeching halt for nearly an entire episode, hurting the pacing and making an entire episode an exposition dump. It also made Gingka’s dad a terrible character. You can argue that him abandoning his teenage son and making him believe he was dead was for the greater good, although I personally still think it’s messed up, but breaking Gingka’s point counter like that was a step way too far. That moment serves to further the story by forcing Gingka to work harder to get into Battle Bladers. But did it have to be his dad who broke the point counter? I argue it didn’t. Gingka’s dad was flat out abusive to his son on that occasion and was pretty cold to him in general as Phoenix and yet the plot and even some of the characters praise Ryo for doing this. Why?! The way the story is structured puts Ryo in the right for abusing his son which disgusts me. That is my biggest problem with this season and possibly the whole series to be honest. I hate it that much. However, apart from that and those random filler episodes with Sora that in my opinion were boring, this season was really solid. Like I said, the story is told well and the characters are all introduced and developed well. Battle Bladers is definitely the highlight of this season, having the most intense battles and hardest hitting moments. Those episodes are exhausting to watch, because of Reiji and Ryuga. Reiji was randomly introduced in Battle Bladers and decided to try and rival Ryuga in how much he could traumatize the characters (and younger me). I have no idea why they decided to do that, but it worked. Ryuga in this season is the best villain in the whole series. He has such a presence to him: his (dubbed) voice, his sadistic expressions, his abilities, the music that plays when he’s onescreen. He’s over the top but in my opinion, Ryuga is the perfect balance between entertaining and intimidating. He’s even slightly sympathetic by the end of the season when he gets taken over by dark power and is seen trying to fight its control. They managed to both make Ryuga an irredeemable psychopath and found a believable way to redeem him. I love that in the end, Gingka isn’t fighting to defeat Ryuga, he’s fighting to defeat the dark power, which came from the greed and hatred of humans. Basically, the problem isn’t humanity, it’s humanity’s greed/hatred and being consumed by these feelings lead to evil. That is genius. This season also had two of my favourite battles in the entire series: Kyoya vs Ryuga, and Gingka vs Ryuga.

1 Metal Fury

Yeah, I said it. Fury is my personal favourite season. It probably has more wrong with it than Masters and Fusion but honestly, Fury’s strengths more than make up for its weaker parts for me. The only problem I have with Fury that actively hinders my enjoyment is Kyoya’s poorly handled arc, which I’ve been over multiple times and wrote a whole fanfiction rectifying. To sum it up briefly: it was rushed and weakened Kyoya’s character when it had the chance to develop him. I will admit this season also had too few episodes. I don’t think it was rushed per say, it just feels like parts are missing. There should’ve been more leading up to Nemesis’ revival and an actual epilogue episode because as it stands now, Fury ends really suddenly without much actual confirmation of where the characters we know and love ended up. It’s kind of jarring. Overall however, I really love Fury. I love the adventure style story and there's so much variety to the bey battles this time around, both in terms of the beys themselves and the stadiums. It’s just more interesting to watch. It also did a great job giving all the major characters victories, not just Gingka. This is something Masters also did well and a gripe I have with Fusion: Gingka gets all the major victories in Metal Fusion and pushes the other characters to the wayside. Well, Masters and Fury fixed this issue in my opinion. The very final fight of Fury against the shadow Nemesis could’ve been executed better in my opinion. However, it hits all the right emotional beats for a final battle and still grabs my attention rewatching it, so I can put aside my criticisms of it while watching it. Also, I like that “destiny” is something these characters are controlling themselves and can go either way rather than being some unstoppable force that they will all give in to eventually otherwise they’re villains. Because that’s how Yugioh does it and it’s probably my biggest problem with that show. In that series, it feels like the characters are all just blindly accepting “destiny” and those that don’t, Kaiba and Marik most notably, are deemed villains for wanting to take control over their lives and not be governed by some invisible force. Yes, I know Marik went to some horrible extremes using this logic but it still bothers me that the only characters in that show that don’t throw their lives away blindly following someone else’s whims are deemed villains. It’s just kind of messed up. Fury thankfully subverts this. “Destiny” is not an unstoppable force in Beyblade, it’s the will of the characters and those characters are allowed to make their own choices. It makes the story more interesting and the characters more likeable because the characters are the ones driving the story, which feels so much more natural. Yeah, I really like the characters in Fury. Honestly, I’m more attached to Yuki, King, and Chris than anyone introduced in Masters and the other legendary blader characters all bring something different and interesting to the table that I don’t think older characters could have. I also like how the old characters are used. Sure, Tsubasa and Yu are underused this season. But guess who also got a lot of focus last season? Tsubasa and Yu. And some of the characters who were underused in Masters, Kyoya and Kenta, get more focus in this season. They did mess up Kyoya’s arc in my opinion but the effort is there and I appreciate his presence before and after that. Kenta especially was severely underused in Masters so this season decided to make him relevant again and they did it in such an endearing way. You all know how much I love Ryuga and Kenta’s friendship. It’s one of the things that should have gotten more focus but what we do get is good enough build up. This season was the one that drew the most emotion out of me during my most recent viewing and that was because of Ryuga and Kenta. I was devastated by Ryuga’s death (even if he may not actually be dead, that’s certainly what it felt like in the moment) and the scene where he gives Kenta his power was the most touching moment in the entire show for me.

Well, that ranking probably pissed some people off. Again, I love the classic three seasons. (I’m not a fan of Shogun Steel but it has its moments.) Choosing between the three of them like that was incredibly difficult, especially Fusion and Fury. In the end, I just had to go with my gut.

[nimsajlove]

As a team!

This fills in what I had left out between Ahsoka and the Bad Batch in Brothers V and Freezing Cold. This takes place in the Episodes of Echo’s rescue.

Brothers-AU  Ao3

Part III (Part II in the reblog)

*~*

"All right, take a couple of men and see what you can find.", Kenobi agreed and Cody and Rex nodded before they both left the meeting hastily. There was silence for a while, then Ahsoka restlessly rubbed her palms together and took a deep breath. Master Windu stood far too close to her for her liking and seemed to be watching her with a keen eye, while Kenobi watched the battle plans tense and exchanged quiet words with Anakin. "I'll see if I can support my men.", Ahsoka muttered to Windu, bowed hastily and fled from the crushing presence of the three Jedi. With a careful look she slid through the organized chaos around her until she spotted Cody. He seemed to be holding a long-distance transmitter and exchanged a few words with the person on the other end until he saw her walking towards him and said goodbye. "General Tano, what can I do for you?", he asked and stored the transmitter again, Ahsoka shrugged a little helplessly. Now that she'd escaped the meeting, she wasn't sure what else to do to help the others. "I was hoping you had a job for me.", she explained and Cody smirked, then he shook his head. “You can't come with us. If the Separatists start another onslaught, we can certainly use every Jedi right here.” Resigned, she nodded, even if she didn't like sending the men off alone, Cody was still right. As is was so often the case. Jesse, Kix and Fives approached them, they seemed ready to move out. "Where's Rex?", Kix asked almost casually while he took off the backpack and checked its contents one last time. Ahsoka saw at first glance that her brother had once again squeezed in as much as he could carry. Her gaze wandered across the square, searching. If the three soldiers were already finished, Rex couldn't be far either! Cody hummed beside her and when she turned her gaze to him he had raised an eyebrow in disapproval. "He wanted to look for Fives.", he replied flat and Ahsoka was a bit startled, that didn't seem like her oldest brother!

After a quick look, they split up and started looking, preferably without attracting any further attention. Kix seemed to be making another detour to the mobile medistation, the others had disappeared too quickly to know where they were going. Ahsoka strolled through the camp without a fixed direction, a faint worry had spread cold in her stomach. It wasn't like Rex at all, just disappearing. She could count the moments in which something similar had happened on one hand. The thought brought back memories, she compared his disappearance with his behavior after the citadel, or after Umbara, and shook her head. No, this was different. The cold subsided a little, this wasn't as bad as it was then. She was looking over a group of shinys who were standing close together when her comlink flashed at her. She gave it a squeeze and Jesse's voice rang out: "Commander Cody found him. We'll wait for you in front of the quarters.”“ Thank you.”, she replied and made her way to the open, quieter place in front of the quarters. Kix and Jesse sat on the ramp of a container, Fives leaned next to the door and when he caught the worried look of the young woman, he shrugged helplessly. Cody she couldn't see there, he had to be inside. When he and Rex were alone in there, she didn't want to disturb. She knew how little time many brothers had to talk openly with one another. So she swung onto the ramp next to Jesse and, after a moment's hesitation, leaned her head on his shoulder. That was better, the cold went away. "How long do you think we will take?", asked Kix, buckling his backpack. Jesse shrugged and shook Ahsoka's head uncomfortably, she grumbled and slapped him on his arm and got a little laugh. That was nice, a few minutes of peace. "With them? Certainly not long.", Fives announced from the door and curiously Ahsoka lifted her head to look over at him, he smirked. If Fives could smile about it since his adventures, then she was interested! "With whom?" "Clone force 99.", Jesse answered her and she looked at him questioningly, she had never heard of these ones before. The name seemed to ring something in everyone else, even to mean something! Kix had cocked his head thoughtfully, Jesse frowned and Fives looked at the floor, he seemed to be thinking something over. Or did he mourn?

The door suddenly slid open, they all sat up hastily in shock and Ahsoka slid off the ramp a little faster than intended, she hastily bit her tongue as the pain briefly shot up her ankle. Didn‘t matter! When they joined Rex and Cody, it didn't hurt anymore. "Who is clone force 99?", she asked to Cody and clasped her hands behind her back, she felt the calluses from the lifelong swing of her lightsabers and thought in the back of her head, maybe to wear gloves after all... "A group of clones, with a couple of useful mutations. They are unstoppable“, the Commander smiled and Jesse snorted softly. "I'm not concerned about the results, it's theire approach.", he muttered and Fives made an approving sound, though he seemed far less concerned than the other ARC. Cody seemed to be about to answer and Ahsoka was curious what his opinion was on such a subject when they heard the engines of a ship. Seconds later, the elegant ship shot down through the clouds and approached too quickly. Ahsoka soberly noted that these pilots had a style similar to that of Anakin. Did they crash land that often too? "So, 99 it is? Nice one.", Rex mumbled to Cody's other side and Ahsoka got the feeling again, as if the number should mean something to her too!

"The cavalry is here!", yelled the first to leave the ship and grinned broadly at her. Ahsoka looked at him and quickly realized what Cody had been talking about. The guy was huge compared to the other clones. He was followed by three other men and she felt Jesse tense behind her. "And those are supposed to be clones?", he mumbled softly and Ahsoka glanced at him, her brother looked torn. As if he didn't quite know what to think of the newcomers. "Hey, different is not bad.", she muttered encouragingly, he shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't like the way they look at us.", he mumbled back and now, at second glance, she understood what he meant. The small group across from them let their gaze wander over them once and some of them not only seemed distant, but almost arrogant. The big man's grin had something dangerous about it, another's sharp look was condescending. Only one of them seemed closed of, but otherwise perfectly calm.

"Commander.", he greeted Cody and Ahsoka had to smile, because there was real joy on Cody's face! "Sorry for our delay, we were held up." Ahsoka saw the face of the big clone light up and had to grin, she knew such a facial expression! This was what Anakin looked like when he found a droid to repair, and here she guessed that a large enemy and a lot of explosives must have been involved. "Oh, I can imagine that.", she grinned and suddenly won the attention of the whole unit. "You can imagine a fight with Yalbecs?", asked the narrowest one, his eyes glowing attentively and although he did not look very strong, Ahsoka did know not to underestimate the wiry figure. But indeed, Yalbecs? She eyed the men and gave the picture in her head a little more color and suppressed a small snort. "Nice, bigger than an Akul, isn't it?" The men were silent, had she said something wrong? Her gaze quickly flicked over to her brothers. Jesse rolled his eyes and Fives and Rex seemed to have the same smile on display. Kix's shoulders were hunched slightly to maintain his poise. "What?" "No need to brag, General.", Cody grinned, aha! So that was what it was all about. Maybe she should have taken her old headdress with her to show off even more... "That wasn't showing off. For the Togruta the Akul- "" They probably already know, Tech.", the leader interrupted the enthusiastic chatter of his brother and he seemed to thaw when he turned to her. “I really didn't mean to show off. My respect, I'm sure an Akul you would have brought down as well.", Ahsoka explained hastily, these were clones and after years with her brothers she knew that mutual respect was essential! These men should know that she was thoroughly impressed. The man across from her nodded and before he could answer, Ahsoka felt the piercing vibration of a gunship powering up in her montrals. That was probably her sign to let the men go... The uncomfortable rumbling in her stomach, wich had started after Cody presented his idea to the other Jedi, increased and she grabbed Cody's forearm. "Come back safe! I don't know what else to tell Master Kenobi.", she tried to joke and her brothers laughed softly, Cody took her arm with a small smile and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry, I'm sure the General would survive that too." Then he quickly turned away, even if neither his walk or his demeanor betrayed him, she could feel his grin. "That was no answer!", she yelled after them and watched as the gunship took off and disappeared. She stood there for a few seconds and listened to the fading feeling of nausea, instead a slight headache crept in and she sighed, then she turned away. Maybe it would help everyone if she took another look at the current situation...

*~*

Ahsoka felt as if someone had punched her in the face. She looked around hastily, she was still leaning against the holo table, where she had decided to take a nap after all the tension between her and the other Jedi. Someone had squeezed one of the thin, rough blankets between her head and the cold metal so that at least her lekku wouldn't get cold. She strongly suspected Anakin, or even Kenobi? But there was no one in her immediate vicinity, nothing that could wake her up so suddenly. But her hectic pulse did not calm down and she carefully checked every little bond she had built with the others. The one with her former Master was still strong and dominant, even i fit was slightly surpressed. From here she did not receive any violent unrest, it was more like radio silence... She avoided the bond to Kenobi and immediately turned to her brothers. The clones weren't force sensitive, so the connection was weaker than she'd liked it to be. And, to her great regret, this was a one-way thing...

She felt for the others and paused. Something was wrong! She just didn't know what exactly. Perhaps it was the concerned undertone in Rex's presence or the dead silence that only emanated from Kix when he was highly concentrated. Before she could ponder it any further, the holo table above her made a sharp beep. Before she recognized it as a distress signal, her body had already responded. Within a heartbeat she was back on her feet and frantically hit the acceptance button with the flat of her hand, barely registering the hasty steps behind her. When Rex began to speak, Kenobi and Anakin were already at her side. “We need immediate transport. The Commander and Kix are waiting at these coordinates.” Next to her, Kenobi took a breath a little too quickly and seemed to have to suppress a surprised coughing fit. Ahsoka didn't want to think about why. That was Cody, he wouldn‘t just get away from them like that! She was grateful that her head and body immediately acted on their own. "I'll take care of it.", she answered in a firm voice, she was a little surprised herself. Her voice not once wavered and remained firm and stern. As soon as she had interrupted the transmission at the holo table, she reached for her comlink and opened the channel of the 332nd. “I need a transport immediately from the attached coordinates. Take a medic and two more troopers with you for support.", she growled and there was silence for a few seconds, then one of her men answered. “Gut here. We start now, I have Hug, Mad and Burnes on board.", the pilot announced in a calm voice and Ahsoka answered him with a confirmatory sound, which was enough for him as an answer from the young General. Ahsoka interrupted the transmission again and swallowed, her throat tightening a little. Damn it. There was no way she could think about Cody now. Or Hardcase. Or... Oh kriff!

She felt the looks of the other Jedi at her back, as she reached for the comlink again and entered Crick's code, perhaps a little too forcefully, with poorly suppressed nervousness. "Yes Sir?", the clone reported immediately and Ahsoka made her way through the camp with long strides. Her destination? The rest of her brothers who had stayed. "Do you have time to keep me and the Dominos company?", she asked a little pressed and got a hasty another "Yes." from Crick, before she ended the connection.

She didn't get far. Halfway to the quarters, Hevy met her, he was wearing his helmet and the trembling in his shoulders alone gave him away. "Is he okay?", he asked and although his voice wasn't trembling, there was still a little panic in it. Neither of them felt like doing the Citadel again. “It's not Fives. It's Cody."

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 9: Crix Spartak

Word Count: 2309 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

*   *   *

Two Years Ago

Shmi sits at a desk by the windowsill in Watto’s shop, composing fake documentation for a shipment to a more legitimate planet. She used to do this kind of thing all the time for Gardulla on Nal Hutta, and she's very good at it. Forging and faking are probably her best skills. She knows legal-speak and formatting; she has a knack for coming up with random numbers and convincing names. When she has a sample of handwriting or writing style from a real person, she can imitate it flawlessly, which she has done for business leaders, crime lords, and even Senators. When she doesn't have anything from anyone real, she invents someone. She has no honest idea what the closest Senator's name really is, but she's invented a self-serious personality and a squiggly autograph that has tricked docking-receivers as far away as Rodia.

Watto has little use of this power of hers for his day-to-day needs, but he sometimes comes up with plots to trick his neighbors using Shmi’s forgeries. And, sometimes, like now, he needs her tricks to get rid of stuff, like these ten tons of toxic waste he ended up with from a bad bet, and that he now wants to pass off as fertilizer and sell to a gullible offworld farmer who won't be able to trace it back to him.

Writing isn't bad work. It’s challenging, and, malicious as it is, she knows she could enjoy it, if she let herself: getting into people's heads, living other lives, for just a short while. It is like solving a puzzle, to figure out how to make other people believe something that isn’t true. The cruel intention of the trickery is not her own, it never is, so she doesn't let that aspect of her work bother her, not anymore.

The only bad part, from her point of view, is the knowledge that her words get to go somewhere that she does not.

And the only good part, really, is that she gets to look at her little boy as she writes. He sits on the desk, next to her cobbled-together, whirring word-processor. He is carefully cleaning a fragile hyper-carburetor with a rag, putrid green gear-soap, and a very serious expression.

Suddenly Crix Spartak pokes head through the window: “Skywalkers!”

“Crix!!” Anakin nearly drops the carb, but of course his reflexes are too fast. He spins around on the desk and grins at the gladiator.

Crix leans on the windowsill -- then lifts his arm quickly from the heated clay, and leans just one calloused elbow on the sill. “Good morning, Ani.” He reaches across and tussles his hair. The boy nearly glows with happiness.

Shmi raises her eyebrows at the man her son admires so much. “Good morning, Crix. Can we help you?”

“D’you wanna go for a spin on the old speeder?”

“YES,” answers Anakin.

“We have a lot of work to do. Not all of us have 6 free days out of 7,” answers Shmi.

“I don't have any work, Mom!”

“I can think of one or two things for you,” she tells him.

“Just a loop round the block, Shmi? You'll be back in a minute.” Crix rests his head on his hand and smiles at her, looking just like a puppy.

She looks at him with a very deliberate expression. “I can't.”

“Take me!” says Anakin, heedlessly.

“Ani! You need to stay with me while I work. I don't want you zooming around, testing the limit on your tracker-bomb.”

“I've calculated for that,” says Crix. “Your tracker-bombs are the same as mine. The loop I planned wouldn't go anywhere near the limit.”

“Please, Mom? I'll work twice as hard.”

“No need for that.”

“I'll bring him back in ten minutes.” Shmi does not look convinced. “Five minutes.”

“Please?” Anakin begs again.

“Ten minutes,” she concedes.

Anakin sets the half-cleaned carb down, crawls off the desk, moves the carb onto a shelf, and climbs back onto the desk and over the word-processor into Crix’s arms.

“I'll bring him right back to you,” says Crix.

“If you don't, I will kill you,” says Shmi.

“I'm more afraid of you than any gladiator alive!” he tells her, laughing.

“Good! You should be!”

“Is that YOUR speeder?!” Anakin interrupts them.

“Yup! -- Well. Not really. But I won it, anyway.”

“It's BEAUTIFUL!”

“Ani!” Her son looks at her. “Keep it down.”

“Sorry!”

“Have fun.”

“I will!”

Crix grins at her, drops a big yellow flower on her desk, and points at it. She rolls her eyes and he blushes and carries Anakin to the speeder to drive him around. Shmi can't compose at all without her little muse at her side. She sits there, worrying, as they drive somewhere out of sight. A minute passes, and she picks up the flower. She doesn't recognize it. It must be an import. He must have won this, too.

They return in just eight minutes.

   *   *   *

One Year Ago

Anakin is not supposed to be in the audience of the death match. No one wants him here, not his master, not his mother, not even Crix himself.

But he just had to come. Everyone is talking about it. He’s never known anyone so talked-about, so famous. He feels so proud. Crix is like family. And everyone, all over town, is raving about him, how unstoppable he is, what a bloody, powerful killer he is. And now Crix’s master has rounded up a spectacular squad from faraway worlds, incredible people who are paying huge amounts for the chance to fight him, to fight Crix, to fight his mom’s cool boyfriend.

They say there’s monster-men, like Wookiees, and there’s even a Mando, whatever that means. Everyone is saying they’re crazy. Everyone is saying all his opponents are gonna die, shot by Crix’s bespoke mega-blaster or crushed in Crix’s bare fists. Anakin can picture it, but he can’t really believe it; he has only ever seen those hands used for good. It'll be Crix’s grandest fight yet, maybe even the grandest fight that's ever happened in the universe. No one can keep Anakin away from such a prospect!

He has an average amount of chores, but he sets his droids on them. His newest and, by far, most ambitious droid, C-3PO, isn't much for cleaning or repairing, yet, but he can speak, a little, and write, a little more. His mom bought Anakin a fairy-tale book and assigned him to copy out the letters to improve his handwriting. Anakin sets Threepio on the task instead, and hopes that his mom won't be able to tell.

He does feel guilty, but he's too excited to feel that guilty. He sneaks out without telling her. There was a sandstorm this morning; fortunately it has passed, but the leftover wind keeps kicking sand into the air.

The arena is in a different neighborhood than the slave houses. Anakin lifts up the tarp of a delivery truck and hides in there to hitch a ride. To his surprise, the truck is full of gross little creatures called gizka. They crowd around him and rub their big faces on his legs. He pulls one onto his lap and pets its soft horns and noses.

“I wonder why they're taking you to the arena? ... Oh, I bet the gladiators are gonna slaughter you.”

He finds it kind of funny, in a sad way, that these little animals are so cheerful; that their doom is close, and they have no idea. He pretends his hand is a sword and chops it on their heads, making them coo and squawk. He laughs.

Once he hears a crowd outside, he sneaks out of the truck and hides among the people. He is far from the only urchin running around, but he does not pick pockets. His mom forbids it, and they wouldn't be allowed to keep the money, anyway.

He follows the other children and soon finds the hole in the arena’s wall which they use to sneak in and out. He fits inside the thin crack without too much difficulty, and flits around the dirty, dark area behind the stadium seating. He finds a spot with a good view, between the legs of some pink-skinned person. He leans on the bench and rests his head on his arms, and watches the battles with wide eyes.

He almost doesn't recognize Crix, in a ridiculous helmet with a big feather, but the nasty red scar across his shirtless torso gives his identity away. He's touched that scar; it feels rough and scratchy.

Crix is more than just a killer; he is a performer. He yells and growls and taunts; he makes obscene gestures and even takes bites out of his opponents, both animals and people. Anakin feels shocked and uncomfortable to see him this way, but it does not lessen his affection for him. It only increases his amazement, that one person could contain two such different personalities.

Just as the pilots and farmers had predicted, Crix wins every battle with ease. His main strategy involves shooting to stun, weaken, and disarm his opponents, and then taking them down with glamorous, bloodthirsty wrestling moves. Anakin has never seen such gratuitous and extended violence before, though he has seen plenty of people die, from podrace explosions to mechanical accidents. Until today, the bloodiest thing he ever saw was someone's tracker-bomb explode their head, but some of these deaths far surpass that one. When he starts to feel dizzy, he looks away and takes deep breaths, but he is too invested to look away for long.

Something about all this murder makes him feel cold. But it isn't a real cold. And it isn't nearly as bothersome as this heat or this wind. He rests his sweaty forehead on his arms and swallows his own spit, but it is a weak comfort. The bench shakes under his arms as the audience bangs their feet on it. Anakin marvels at their energy. He wishes he was having as much fun as they are. He really is trying to enjoy himself, and he sort of is. The thrill of it all is similar to podracing, and the triumphs are satisfying. He supposes he will grow into liking it.

After forty minutes of this action, the host announces the next opponent -- the Mando, Chahlee Tiango. Anakin watches the helmeted warrior posture and pose as the audience frantically cheers and boos.

The little boy is starting to feel bored. This would be much more exciting if they were flying around on fast ships, not shooting and punching each other. The only real difference anymore is the color of the blood. But Chahlee looks like a human, meaning he'll just bleed red, which isn't anything new.

Anakin looks at Crix, whose helmet cracked in half in the last battle. Now that his face is visible, Anakin can enjoy his confident smile. He wishes his mom were here to see her boyfriend winning so much. He supposes she would hate it.

As Anakin's thoughts wander, the audience jumps to its feet and screams uproariously. Anakin fastens his eyes back on the battle.

Crix was shot right in the chest. He crumples. A wave of sand lifts from the ground and nearly covers him, like a blanket, hiding him, as if he were never there. Tiango takes a gleeful lap around the arena.

The audience is screaming far too loudly to hear anything from the announcer. The bench is shaking too much to remain a suitable armrest. Anakin stands up straight and stares ahead.

The pink legs that had framed Anakin's view now jump and move around with everyone else, obscuring the arena with cloaks and pants and boots. The other children in this hideaway start moving around, their own views also disrupted, trying to find better spots. Some of them move in front of Anakin. He lets them. He backs off further into the shade.

“Crix…” His initial shock starts to wear away, and he feels tears cross his parched face. “You were supposed to win! They all said you would!”

He had to lose eventually. No one can win every time. Mom told me he would lose, sooner or later. Everyone dies. It's okay.

It really doesn't feel okay. But this feels like podracing, too. Failing. Losing the game. He has been close to death himself a few times, especially when Sebulba is in the match.

He wipes his eyes and holds his fingers in his ears, which are popping from the terrifying decibel level of this audience. He squints his eyes and waits for the volume to settle and the people to sit back down.

What am I waiting for, though? They'll just continue with Tiango as the new champion. I don't want to watch that.

He makes a half-hearted attempt to get another good view, but one of the other children accidentally brushes up against him, and the feeling of being touched makes him deeply angry. He doesn’t trust these other kids. He doesn’t like them. They can’t understand. That wasn’t their friend who just died. It’s too loud here. And it isn’t going to get quiet. Not for a long time.

He worms out the crack in the arena wall and sees a truck that looks similar to the one he used to get here. He hides under the tarp again -- it is now empty inside. The truck jostles along, though it doesn't take exactly the same route back. It takes Anakin a little closer to home, but then it makes a turn he did not expect. He wonders if the truck will eventually come back around to the slave houses. He has no way of knowing. He fears it will wander out of range of his tracker-bomb. He jumps off the cart and walks the rest of the way home.

Chapter 10: Gafia Chumpi

[onesentencemusings]

I posted 2,777 times in 2021

91 posts created (3%)

2686 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 29.5 posts.

I added 848 tags in 2021

#spiderspam - 240 posts

#doctor octopus - 161 posts

#musings marvel - 143 posts

#legend of zelda - 115 posts

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#danny phantom - 25 posts

#shademan - 21 posts

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Longest Tag: 136 characters

#i had to learn its not normal to want to listen to music constantly from the shitty sia movie that literally every autistic person hated

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

“Bruh.”

51 notes • Posted 2021-08-20 18:47:33 GMT

#4

Honestly I’m massively surprised people aren’t talking about the possibility of Ghirahim in Botw 2. We’re basically getting Skyward Sword 2 printed on Botw’s framing, meaning a reference at the very least (wall painting, temple/island named after him) at the very least and a full-on resurfacing at the very most.

Ganondorf is ‘freed’ but still in a frankly terrible state. Sure could use a henchman to try to directly end Link. Buuuut I do feel they’d want to keep the “your pace, your path, your choice” style of gameplay from the first (which is honestly the best idea) so AT MOST maybe Ghirahim’s like Master Khoga where he’s the big final boss to get an Important Thing....

tho hopeful he’s taken at least a tiny big more seriously

52 notes • Posted 2021-06-16 00:13:00 GMT

#3

Everyone draws pre-accident Spectacular Spider-Man Ock like he's on the verge of tears and they ain't wrong

54 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 21:06:08 GMT

#2

It really baffles me that everyone accepts Belos is the Titan’s chosen. It’s so accepted that “Belos is just a puppet to the Titan and the Titan is the TRUE bad guy in the series” is a theory I see pop up semi-regularly. But consider:

Belos is lying out of his muddy ass. About EVERYTHING.

No one thinks its suspicious that out of nowhere, a guy shows up on the island and says “Your god thinks everything you believe in is wrong and only I can make it right”? No one thinks its funny that Belos states that normal witches mixing magics is wrong but he and literally anyone he chooses to serve under him can do it no problem?

You wouldn’t need to try-out or compete to be a special exception to a divine-given rule. You either deserve it or you don’t. The Titan either chooses you or it doesn’t. Skill or power shouldn’t be part of the conversation.

ESPECIALLY if you take in the “Belos is a Wittebane” theory. Why would the Titan take in a outsider to speak for it? Also why wait thousands or tens of thousands of years of wild witches doing free-form magic and do NOTHING to stop it if it’s so horrible and disrespectful? If the Titan can speak to people, why not announce its displeasure sooner? Why not reach out to every influential family on the isle and collectively tell them things must change? Why just one guy?

Honestly with Palistom wood becoming scarce and Titan Blood vanishing when it sounds like it’s never been a problem before, I think the Titan’s angry enough it’s withholding natural bounties it once gave away freely. I think the Titan HATES the Coven System.The Day of Unity is for Belos and Belos alone.

I think the Belos know his artificial magic can’t work off the Boiling Isle, just like Luz’s glyphs.And that’s probably the ONLY way he can do magic if he’s a Wittebane from the human world. I think he’s trying to bring the Human World and Demon Realm together so he doesn’t lose his magic and thus he’s influence. With the Titan on Earth, Belos would be unstoppable.

And the Titan doesn’t want that. That’s why the Titan is teaching Luz the glyphs. So she can stop it.

75 notes • Posted 2021-09-29 03:49:56 GMT

#1

I remembered Danny Phantom existed and realized it’s HILARIOUS that the biggest evil guy the series ever had, Dan, said he had no human emotions.

Like, buddy....babe... my guy... dude

You’re a GHOST. You are the physical manifestation of emotion. You are a human (TWO humans’ actually) consciousness that has such unending agony and longing you have willed yourself out of death’s clutches for the sole purpose of MAYBE EVENTUALLY doing The Thing you need to do.

You don’t HAVE emotions... you ARE emotions.

Dummy...

96 notes • Posted 2021-10-19 15:30:33 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[mneiai]

Jango/Obi-Wan prompt request? How can I resist???? Jango's re-taken Mandalore from Satine, and you know, hasn't killed her because he's being 'diplomatic' but that doesn't mean he won't seduce her former lover away (both from her and the Jedi).

Thanks for the prompt! Don’t know if this was quite what you were after lol

Obi-Wan wanted to be anywhere but Mandalore, staring down the man who called himself Mand'alor. When the Council had given him this assignment, he'd almost refused, almost (foolishly) told them of his feelings for Satine and why he could not do this. But that would have shown too much attachment. They would have questioned his Knighting, maybe even questioned allowing him to take Anakin on as his Padawan. It had been months since he'd taken assignments that Anakin didn't come along on, but this time he left him back at the Temple, whining about the unfairness of it all--he wasn't bringing a thirteen year old into a warzone, he wasn't Qui-Gon. Keldabe was different than his memories--rebuilt, but not in the New Mandalorian style (he could see places, here and there, where that must have existed and been destroyed when the True Mandalorians took it back). Everywhere there were Mandalorians in beskar'gam, watching him with suspicion as if waiting for a peacekeeper to become an assassin. If he broke the truce Fett had given them, it wouldn't be to murder him in cold blood--it would be to find where he was keeping Satine, free her, run off with her to somewhere safe. He wouldn't. Fett was the sort of Mand'alor people thought of, when they thought of the Mandalorians. He might not be terribly tall, but his presence filled the room. His eyes were cold, intelligent, sweeping over Obi-Wan and easily seeing him for the threat he was--and certainly coming up with ways he thought he might neutralize him. In turn, Obi-Wan made himself less of the ideal Jedi, trying to blur what Mandalorian culture he knew with his own heritage as often as he could. The Mandalorians, and Fett in particular, had no reason to trust a Jedi. And the Republic needed their trust, no one wanted another Blockade of Naboo or Stark Hyperspace War. When they found out he knew Mando'a, that became the only language they used with him, leading a flighty protocol droid the Senate had sent to try to translate for the Senators with him. At first he thought to at least say his own part in Basic, but Fett backed him into verbal corners where he could choose a few words in Mando'a or paragraphs worth in his own language. As the only one the Mandalorians were actively communicating with, at first he didn't even notice the way they isolated him from the other Republican representatives. Then, at some point, he realized he'd gone three entire days without seeing any of them and that he barely had any time in the schedule the Mandalorians had checked just to run across them and make sure they were alright. In contrast, Fett was almost always there, watching him like a lazy predator, waiting for something Obi-Wan had yet to pinpoint. The Mand'alor cared little for most of the provisions of the treaty, it was a few of his own that Obi-Wan balked at--the Order was complicit in Galidraan, and of course regretted it, but the concessions Fett wanted for that, and to make sure it didn't happen again anywhere else, were extreme. No matter how Obi-Wan tried to explain that such matters as the Order's connection to the Senate was necessary, was desired by many, Fett didn't budge. Not after the first debate, or the second, or the tenth. But if he thought he could be more stubborn than Obi-Wan, he was going to be in for a surprise. Not that Fett seemed upset, if anything he seemed amused. He invited Obi-Wan to sit in a seat of honor beside him at the feasts he threw, gave him great regard by sparring with him in the mornings when they were both free (something that happened with enough frequency Obi-Wan suspected it was planned), and taught him more about Mandalorian culture in a month than Satine had in a year. It was a soft correction one afternoon of Obi-Wan's pronunciation--too Sundari-short for the word being said--that finally made him crack. "What did you do to the Duchess?" Reports said she was alive, but he hadn't been able to find her in the Force. Fett shrugged. "She's fine, under house arrest, in one piece and being taken care of well enough. Getting rid of her opens up the field for some other New Mandalorian 'leader'." The truth rang through the Force, but Obi-Wan had the impression there was something more, some other, more personal motive. Five months into the negotiation, having not seen anyone else from his team for four weeks, Obi-Wan almost welcomed Fett's seduction. A welcome distraction, he thought, and a way to maybe, finally, get Fett to lower his guard. Instead it felt as though Obi-Wan was the one who had been shattered apart, Fett left to pick up the pieces. He seemed to have perfect instincts for what to say, how to move, how much pressure to use, to break through the persona of control that Obi-Wan projected. He'd forgotten how nice it was, to just let someone else take care of him. To let them take charge and direct the entire encounter. He was so blissed out afterwards he fell asleep in the Mand'alor's bed and had to walk out in the morning under the knowing gazes of the Mandalorian guards. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he spared a hysterical moment to wonder exactly what it was that kept attracting him to leaders of Mandalore. Obi-Wan contacted the Council, when he could, for their opinions on the sticking points of the treaty. For updates on Anakin. He did not tell them what he was doing with Fett, certainly not that they were sleeping together, that they were dining together every night, that the Mand'alor was spending his brief moments of free time showing Obi-Wan around Keldabe and teaching him what it meant to be Mando'ad. Compared to the Mandalorians, the Council's coldness wore on him. He knew if he was there, in the Temple, he'd feel them in the Force and know it wasn't so bad. But so far away, with no Jedi in the sector, he could only rely on their expressions and words. Both of which made him feel like a failure. When they told him they'd "temporarily" assigned Anakin to another Master, it felt like a slap to the face, even though he knew his mission had gone on longer than expected with no sign of resolution. He spared with the Mandalorians after the holocalls, now, becoming more aggressive as he learned just how much they could take. They commented dreamily, sometimes, about what an unstoppable force he'd be like wrapped in armor made of beskar and, sometimes, Obi-Wan imagined it, too. It was nine months in Mandalore when Obi-Wan started wondering what it would be like if he just...didn't go back. When he was younger, with Satine, he hadn't let himself delve too deeply into the fantasies, but now he couldn't help himself. He could have never prospered in the New Mandalorian utopia Satine dreamt of, but now, in Jango's Mandalore, there were avenues he hadn't expected. Obi-Wan spent time around the city without Jango, the Mandalorian guards assigned to him helping him get around when he needed it. There were clinics that could use a Jedi's help, and shelters, and so many other ways that he was needed there. He made friends without much effort, despite being a Jedi (though, sometimes he wasn't sure everyone was aware of that, at some point Jango had put clothing for Obi-Wan in his bedroom and he'd just started putting that on instead of going back for his own things). Eleven months in, Jango asked him to stay. For him, for Mandalore. He asked for time to meditate on the subject, spending a few days away from his lover as the world continued on around him. When he came back, he almost had his answer. But first, he asked to see Satine. She was being kept in a house outside the city, under constant guard but not without some luxuries. There were servants to clean and cook, books and datapads (with limited access to the Holonet). There was a holoprojector with holodramas and, to Obi-Wan's horror, recordings of him--him sparring with the Mandalorians, him cuddling with the Mand'alor, him walking around Keldabe and speaking Mando'a like a native. Satine had never looked at him like that, like he'd betrayed her (broken her heart). She didn't want anything to do with him, not even his help to escape. Back home, Jango waited for him. He took Obi-Wan's screams, rolled with his punches, let him work out his rage in a way completely unbeffiting a Jedi. He held him close as he cried, his own heart breaking at the loss of the most important love of his life. Obi-Wan had spent two years in Mandalore, altogether, before he left the Order.