#a sacrifice i am willing to make for the man the myth the legend

[maxwell-grant]

Do you think The Shadow could/should have an end ? If yes, how do you think she would be ?

I(Sidenote but "The Scent of Death" is one of my favorite Shadow covers, if only because I am deeply in love with the idea of The Shadow meeting with a Grim Reaper who's just casually offering flowers. It's what I see when I look at it anyway)

Not gonna reply how I think it should be, because that goes into some of my plans for the character I don't feel like letting out, but regarding him having an "end", yes. Actually, if you ask me the number one story I want to tell with the character, after of course just telling general Shadow stories the way I think they should be told and stories about the agents, it's the story of how he dies.

Not how he achieves immortality, not the story of how he dies but lingers as a ghost, but dies for real. No second chances, no hidden plans, no successors (I'm very strongly against the idea of the Agents becoming The Shadow or him having bloodline descendants who take the role), no returning from the grave. He gets to, for once, for real, die, and actually stay dead.

I think part of that is because of something that Alan Moore mentioned in his Twilight of the Superheroes pitch. As horribly misguided as that was, I do think he opens it with a very solid idea:

As I mentioned in my introduction to Frank's Dark Knight, one of the things that prevents superhero stories from ever attaining the status of true modern myths or legends is that they are open ended. An essential quality of a legend is that the events in it are clearly defined in time; Robin Hood is driven to become an outlaw by the injustices of King John and his minions. That is his origin. He meets Little John, Friar Tuck and all the rest and forms the merry men. He wins the tournament in disguise, he falls in love with Maid Marian and thwarts the Sheriff of Nottingham. He lives to see the return of Good King Richard and is finally killed by a woman, firing a last arrow to mark the place where he shall be buried.

That is his resolution—you can apply the same paradigm to King Arthur, Davy Crockett or Sherlock Holmes with equal success. You cannot apply it to most comic book characters because, in order to meet the commercial demands of a continuing series, they can never have a resolution.

Whether (The Dark Knight Returns) will actually ever happen in terms of "real" continuity is irrelevant: by providing a fitting and affective capstone to the Batman legend it makes it just that... a legend rather than an endlessly meandering continuity. It does no damage to the current stories of Batman in the present, and indeed it does the opposite by lending them a certain weight and power by implication and association— every minor shift of attitude in the current Bruce Wayne's approach to life that might be seen in Batman or Detective over the next few years, whether intentionally or not, will provide twinges of excitement for the fans who can perceive their contemporary Batman inching ever closer to the intense and immortal giant of the Dark Knight chronicles.

(Another sidenote is that me and my family cried very, very hard at Spock's death the first time we watched it, even knowing immediately he was gonna come back the next movie. It still hits pretty hard just thinking about it)

You can argue whether or not this is a requirement that holds back characters from becoming "true myth", but there's an undeniable power and status that is to be found in stories about The Death of The Hero. It's not just a cornerstone of storytelling but quite often it can end up becoming the most popular and/or critically-beloved story of a long-running franchise character, who of course doesn't need to actually die forever and gets to have it both ways, truly great characters who stand the test of time can have iconic death scenes. And The Shadow doesn't have one. The only time he's ever even died in a narrative was in Andy Helfer's Shadow run, and everything in that run was mostly played as a farcical joke and his death was only the pretext for his eventual return in a robot body.

In truth, it is pretty difficult to imagine The Shadow ever dying, because sure, we can imagine Superman or Batman dying to save humanity or Spider-Man biting the dust after an ungodly exhertion to save lives. Not that The Shadow wouldn't do those things, but he's the kind of character who seems like he's going to inevitably get back up again, like Jason Voorhees who won't stay down no matter what, who's always going to show up in a last-minute jumpscare or a secret plot. Because The Shadow is strongly associated with horror and supernatural, we tend to assume he's never going to die so much as he's just going to retreat to the darkness to come back when someone least expects it.

It's interesting also that, while The Shadow isn't suicidal, he is also much more willing to throw away his own life for the sake of others than you'd expect from a character of his personality type, even in circumstances where he would save more people in the long run by protecting his own life. The Shadow is unshakeable when it comes to death, of those he chooses to kill as well as his own, and on the few instances where Shadow stories have gone deep in his head enough to showcase fears and anxieties, the fear of death or injury is never among them, it's more consistently a fear of failure or a fear of his own worst nature coming to the forefront (in a way, the only thing he really fears is himself). But when it comes to death?

He's been canonically described as a daredevil who welcomes danger (usually by laughing), and he seems to treasure the idea of dying for the sake of something, of getting to go out while fighting and taking a bigger monster out with him.

SHADOW: Cain, that vault door is six feet thick...and when it's shut this vault is absolutely airtight. Even you can die of suffocation. Sit down, Cain. You and The Shadow will be here a long time...forever.

CAIN: I don't believe you! You wouldn't make this insane sacrifice just to kill me.

SHADOW: The Shadow has spent a lifetime fighting crime. There could be no better death for The Shadow than this. I will take with me the greatest archcriminal of all time - The Immortal Murderer

Looking at it from a general perspective, the fact that every Shadow story that makes him immortal usually exaggerates his worst and most toxic traits. even starts to have some grounding to it. Because these are stories that happen past the point where The Shadow would have been allowed death, the death that every human, every warrior, every hero, must be allowed to have. You know how that "you either die a hero" line goes. Well, what happens when your hero, who's already skirting pretty damn close to villainy as is, isn't allowed to die at all? Worse, isn't even allowed to change with the times?

Not that this justifies those stories or how badly they mangle The Shadow's character (because they always come from the idea that he's always been the sadistic jerk they make him into), and I'm definitely not stating that "immortal Shadow" stories have to revolve around the deterioration of his persona (I'm partial to ghost teacher Shadow myself), but the idea is there.

This is part of why my stance on this question changed from "well, yeah maybe that could be a fun story to tell" to "actually, yes, we need a Death of The Shadow story, and it has to be done very well and done to a version that's written in-character, and I don't currently trust anyone to write this story the way it needs to be told. I don't trust myself to fully deliver on this premise either, but it's a necessary idea that's been long overdue."

So, yes, I definitely think The Shadow could, and should, have an end. I definitely think it's something that should be considered by anyone who wants to write the character.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the shadow #alan moore #grendel

[zios-plotbun-farm]

MDZS Fic Ideas

AN: I post this in hopes of other people who are willing to either adopt these fanfic plotbunnies of mine or get inspired by them and make their own version of these fanfic stories. I am an Artist not a writer and I feel I could never write these as well as I would like so a here they are for people to use if they want just please credit and tag me if you ever write it cause I would really love to read them. ^w^

Death God Yiling Laozu and his Cult

Tags: DeathGod!Wei Ying, Neutral chaotic god [neutral in that he slides on the spectrum not that he takes no side]

After his death from the seal some people decide that its a good idea to pray to him like a god for help/requests/revenge. Because of that his soul ends up sort of absorbing their prayers and resettling it self to be a combination of a Ghost/god. As he gets requests with some of them being fulfilled, if he feels like its justified, including ones made by ghosts or are death requests. 

Later on because of his afterlife deeds he ends up getting a cult/religion made for him which he is both horrified and delighted by. The Wens that died before him, some of them end up as his servants/minor deities of his cult since they end up helping him on his requests sometimes. Sects are obviously very horrified at this situation but can't stop it since those are mostly normal people that are worshiping Wei Ying.

Mo Xuanyu is a follower and does try to sacrifice himself so Wei Ying can grant him revenge but instead gets saved by him instead. Ends up later revealing to him about Jin Guangyao's activities that he found out about.

Maybe Xue Yang prays to Wei Ying for revenge against the Changs and instead gets adopted by Wei Ying and tamed into semi-sanity. Possibly later gets his revenge in another way.

lots of case fic parts

Wei Ying on Modern Earth  [Working Title lol]

Reborn!Wei Ying into Modern Earth with Medium abilities that he later turns into a side job and gets partnered with Lan Zhan who ended up as a detective who uses his help on cases. Wen Ning is Wei Ying's partner in the Medium business and also has powers from being a fierce corpse in his last life. Other characters are also reborn too but have no or disjointed feelings about past life.

Wei Ying's parents are with him for a while before they are killed in a freak accident in his last year on high school. The Jiangs are family friends with his family and help him as he went through University.

Wei Ying got his memories back in parts as he grew older and so had frequent nightmares. He is not fully OG!WY since he was born and raised in Modern Earth before his past life memories could influence him but still has most of his personality. [Better survival instinct, not as self sacrificing]

Is part of a rock band and musician uses both his music and abilities to have enough money to survive by the way of youtube and stuff. Wen Ning is part of it and so are Mo XuanYu and Xue Yang as well. [Ning=Geek Goth, XuanYu=Bubble Goth, Yang=Punk Goth, Ying=Trad/Hippy Goth]

Wei Wuxian the Runaway Noble [Working Title lol]

Tags: Reincarnated!WY, Medium!WY, Historical,

Wei Ying is reborn with his memories intact into a more historical setting where cultivation and spirits being just mere myth or legend. His mom was a runaway high status lady who fell for his father a manservant of another high status man[JF]. Their families were close which is how they ended up meeting. He lives with his parents peaceful while experimenting with spiritual and demonic cultivation, which doesn't work as normal here. Parents later die because bandits attacked their village which had a few other people that were reborn[Wen] too. Lan Zhan also gets reincarnated after waiting for WY but he only remembers his past life in dreams and visions. Still loves WY tho.

Either makes his own territory with people fearing him for his cultivation powers aka Yiling Laozu 2: electric boogaloo. Has Nobles fighting and Princes trying to avoid assassination so they don't get overthrown [LX being crown prince]

WY finds MXY later and adopts him as a little brother cause he feels close to him and reminds him of himself.

Or gets dragged into family power/feud from his mother's family who she ran from

Cultivators in Supernatural

Tags: Reincarnated!WY, SPN style World, Jiang Family Friends, Case Fic

WY grows up with his parents until he's 15 with the Jiangs being their neighbors and family friends. WY's parents were SPN semi-retired monster hunters who went out on a case if it was close by, but then they got killed on a case dying from injuries after killing the perp. They became friends with the Jiangs when the family were involved in a case that almost killed JF who they saved. CS and YX grew to respect each other after fighting some baddies together and CS saved YX. WY learned about his parent's side jobs around 11 where he then convinced them to teach him what they know and learn about this unexpected side of this new world. JC and JL end up learning a bit too if only to protect themselves when they later become WY's researchers and suppliers for things he needs on his cases. WY's paying job is being a freelance artist doing commissions both digital and traditional depending on the request given. Taken in by the Jiangs after his parent's passing and moves out after university where he lives in a house that his parent's used as a base when they traveled.

WY meets LZ when their cases meet together. LZ has to work with WY after figuring out their suspect is the same person and LZ is not prepared to deal with them. LZ is a highly regarded FBI agent. Later LZ consults WY about cases that are SPN with his brother and uncle's support.

MXY and MY both end up becoming witches but neither work for JGS and WR who are colluding with demons. They also run the criminal world. [Xue Yang is Meng Yao's Demon, MXY turns out to be a Cambion hiding as a Witch]

The Twin Demons of Yunmeng Jiang

Tags: Demonic Cultivators!JC and WY, Leader!JYL, BattleMedic!Jiangs

Instead of being completely knocked out or in a depression coma Jiang Cheng was able to hear when Wei Ying asks WQ to transfer his core. They argue about it for awhile with WY bringing up what JC's mother ordered him to do and accidentally mentioned what JC told him when he attacked him. During the silence that ensued WQ mentions another theory but says it has an even lower chance of success but allows them to both have a core although much less powerful. 

She proposes to take a half of WY's instead of the whole and place that into JC. That there is a chance that it will turn into a small core instead of dissipate instead. WY wants to argue this again but JC throws the ultimatum that its either this or nothing with WY keeping his core. JC had hoped this would deter WY from doing any transfer at all but WY agrees and now JC can't refuse since WY is determined to do this. During the transfer the cores start to destabilize and it isn't until WY starts to transfer energy to JC and JC transfers back starting a type of energy loop that it somehow stabilizes both cores. 

Later JC and WY weak from the surgeries get captured by the Wens with WC throwing both into the Burial Mounds. When inside their cores get overwhelmed by the resentful energy and both end up trying to fight it with pure willpower to control it but instead both of their cores end up absorbing quite a bit of resentful energy turning their cores into something like a Ying Yang core. They have to keep it balanced or their cores start to destabilize if they absorb to much of one or other. 

They can't be turned back into pure yang since the resentful energy became a part of them now. Both having a certain type of resentment that they gravitate towards with JC being Wrath/Anger and WY being Misery/Depression. Later the Jiang becomes a Sect of Dual cultivation where one sides uses demonic and the other uses spiritual plus healing.

Jiang Cheng makes his own whip with bamboo handle and deer bone fragments with the whip made from the tail bones and pure resentful energy with a bit of lightning from his ring. [Can't transform Zidian but still able to produce lightning in its ring form]

Jiang Yanli decides to restart her cultivation training after her brothers come back to both help them be stable with their new cultivation and to help lead her sect with her brother JC. JC and WY can balance each other out by trading energy but can't do it a lot least they become unbalanced themselves.

At some point Jiang Cheng gets his hair cut short [before/after burial mounds?] about shoulder length later he uses the same hairstyle like WY but with braids tied back into little pointy tail. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FewQ3u7JhTU [reference]

#Fanfic ideas #MDZS #wangxian #yunmeng shuangjie #yiling patriarch #spn crossover #historical wangxian #My ART #My writing

[norbah]

Huitzilopochtli

-Saber (5*)

The proud Aztec god of war and the sun, Huitzilopochtli was born armed and ready for battle. The serpent of flame, Xiuhcoatl, was his weapon. His first action was the wholesale slaughter of his 400 brothers and dismemberment of his sister Coyolxauhqui in defense of his mother. Although he is technically a Pseudoservant, his face is not a familiar one, as he inhabits the body of a particularly worthy Mexica warrior. He does not tolerate weaklings as his Master, and one would be well advised to pull their weight and prove their worth as a warrior early on, lest the violent deity withdraw his favor and support.

Huitzilopochtli is particularly difficult to get along with at first. Mages remind him uncomfortably of Tezcatlipoca, the Aztec god of night, and thus his relationship with his Master will be automatically on the wrong foot from the start. He respects strength and valor, and rankles at cowards and cheats. He revels in violence and has little patience for activities unrelated to combat, meaning training is one of the few ways to bond with him.

Huitzilopochtli is brimming with raw power, and believes in honorable combat, although he finds the idea of giving his opponent a choice in the matter laughable. If Huitzilopochtli wishes to fight you, there’s not much you can do to avoid it. He is vulnerable to ambushes and assassinations, and it is no exaggeration to say his weakest point is his Master. The low respect he has for mages as a whole means he is unlikely to protect them at first. Indeed, if he finds them to be cowardly or spineless, he is perfectly willing to stand back and watch them be killed, as defeat is preferable to cowardice. Unlike his brother Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochtli loves only the strong among humanity, and will expect his Master to personally take the life of at least one other Master during the Grail War.

However, he is no mindless Berserker, and relishes the use of strategy against his enemies. If one can prove to him that their mind is sharp and well-versed in the art of tactics, he will quickly grow to respect his partner, and may even waive his demands for actual combat from them. It would be a good idea to avoid suggesting an assassination or underhanded tactics to him, however. The memories of what the deceitful Spaniards did to his people still make him bristle with blazing rage.

He burns through mana at an alarming rate, and unless one has enough in reserve, he is likely to go find a worthy sacrifice, or worse still, demand that his Master provide one for him. He will not select civilians, not out of concern for justice or discretion, or even mercy, but because he wishes only for warriors as sacrifices to himself. Anything less is unworthy.

In the context of the Grand Order, the chief god of Mesoamerica is easier to handle. Being surrounded with mighty warriors from across all ages and nations, he is quite enamored with the concept of testing himself against them. To his delight, there are many capable of holding their own against him, even if for a short while. He also has a secret soft spot for mothers, and will go out of his way to assist them if he can.

Inevitably, he will come to respect the last Master of Chaldea, as their struggles against insurmountable odds speak of true valor and strength of spirit. Indeed, he will go as far as to refer to them affectionately as “Tlatoani” after a while.

All in all, Huitzilopochtli is proud, stubborn, violent, and difficult. But should you earn his trust, there is no ally more steadfast and fierce you could find than the Fifth Sun.

ACTIVE SKILLS

Charisma B+

Although Huitzilopochtli and his people were the dominant culture of Mesoamerica, they did not reach this summit through diplomacy, but rather coercion and fear. Other tribes obeyed them only until somebody crueler than the Aztecs came along and offered to depose them.

----Increases all allies’ Atk.

Lake Texcoco

Huitzilopochtli could be an unreasonable deity, but he could also be a guiding hand. Through the augury of an eagle devouring a snake atop a prickly pear, he led his people from the mythical Aztlan to what would one day be Tenochtitlan: an island in a lake, infested with venomous snakes. The surrounding tribes gifted the island to the Mexica people, expecting them to die. But the Mexica ate the snakes, and claimed the island for their own.

----Increases allies’ Atk and Def. (3 turns)

----All allies gain Debuff Resist (3 times)

Blue Hummingbird EX

This skill is an embodiment of his nature as the bloodthirsty chief of the gods. As the sun, he gave life to all beings on earth. He demands blood in return, that he may be strong enough to hold back the eternal night. As his allies are spirits much like himself, he does not take their hearts as tribute, but rather drinks from them without taking their lives.

----An ally of your choosing loses 50% of their remaining health

----Increases own Buster strength depending on how much health was taken from ally (3 turns)

----Extra effect if NP is used (1 turn)

NOBLE PHANTASM

Name: Tonatiuh

Rank: A+

Class: Buster

Type: Anti-Army

“I am Light. I am War. I am he who holds the Moon and Stars at bay. Gaze now upon me as I am reborn from the Southeast. I am the Fifth Sun—- TONATIUH!”

As the dual deity of war and the sun, Huitzilopochtli displays unbridled power that few can rival. In Aztec myth, he is our current sun, and his power is what keeps the moon and stars from descending upon the Earth and devouring all living on it. This power grows as he is fed the blood and hearts of captured warriors, or even allies deemed worthy of this honor. This Noble Phantasm manifests this legend by transforming into the Solar Disc, Tonatiuh, and unleashing his might towards the surrounding area. Those blessed by him will feel the warmth of the sun on their skin and the strength of their allies at their side, giving them the spirit to fight more fiercely, while those who stand against him will feel the devastating power of the Sun in its most bloodthirsty and violent form.

----Deals significant damage to all enemies

----Increase Atk for all allies. (3 turns)

----Stuns Self for 3 turns (Demerit)

----If under the effect of Blue Hummingbird EX, Huitzilopochtli is not stunned. Instead, increase Atk by fraction of HP taken as tribute. (Effect increases with Overcharge. 100% is an increase by 50% of the tribute. 200% is an increase by 75%. So on.)

Additional quotes for other Servants: -Quetzalcoatl: “Quetzalcoatl, my brother! It has been too long! ... You... seem different than I remember you. ... Did you do something with your hair? And do you know what happened to my Piedra del Sol?” He still holds Quetzalcoatl in high regard, as one of the few siblings who aided him in defending their mother, Coatlicue against Coyolxauhqui. As such, Quetz is one of the very few people you will catch Huitz being affectionate with... and is, in fact, the only Servant capable of calling him Huitz without starting a fight. -Jaguar Man: “I see you in there, Tepeyollotl. You think you can hide behind this woman, but I know you’re in there. ... Eh? You evicted him? You evicted the Heart of the Mountain? ... I would not have liked to be in his place. You have my respect.” Huitzilopochtli respects but mistrusts Tezcatlipoca and all his avatars. To find that this woman was willful enough to turn the tables on the Smoking Mirror is a very welcome surprise, but he will keep an eye on her nonetheless. -Karna: “You there, spearman. Stop for a moment. Something links us. I can feel it. ... Ah. I understand now. ... You are a capable warrior, I see. Would you join me in the sparring ring? I would like to know you better. We are practically family, after all.” He sees Karna as a nephew of sorts, being the son and incarnation of another sun god, albeit a much less violent one. Challenging Karna to brutal fights is his equivalent of playing catch with the demigod. -Leonidas: “You are not Mexica, are you? No. Your weaponry and armor, it is too different. But I see it in your eyes; that same sliver of the sun that burned in my warriors. Please, grant me the honor of joining me in a spar.” He simply recognizes a man who may have been an Eagle Knight or even a Tlatoani, had he been born in a different time and place. He goes all out against Leonidas as a sign of respect, and is delighted to discover just how strong and durable the Spartan is. -Tiamom: “I... Mother? Mother, is that you? ... No. No, not quite. You feel like her, and I hear her in your voice, but you’re much gentler. Yet... somehow, it feels like you’re... I’m so confused.” This is where Huitz is the most vulnerable. He is dearly fond of his mother, and sees much of her in the Foreigner Tiamat. Both are mother goddesses, greatly associated with the earth and with serpents, and both were turned on by their own children. Huitz can't help but feel protective of Tiamat, and subtly tries to make her proud of him. It is a good thing she can look after herself. If his new surrogate mother were threatened, there's no telling how much carnage Huitz would cause in his desire to protect her. -Artemis: “A moon goddess? Pah. More trouble than they’re worth, the lot of them. Watch your back, Master, lest you find a dagger in it.” Self explanatory. Huitzilopochtli feels great distaste for moon goddesses, and would see no problem in getting rid of all of them to avoid a potential Coyolxauqui 2.0.

#fgo #fanservant #huitzilopochtli #dammit all i caved and made one of these #actually kinda happy with him but i'm worried his NP might be a bit overpowered #oc

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Candyman.

Psycho Analysis: Candyman

“They will say that I have shed innocent blood. What's blood for if not for shedding? With my hook for a hand, I'll split you from your groin to your gullet. I came for you.”

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

[Note: I am only using the first film for the purposes of this Psycho Analysis.]

Clive Barker’s most iconic horror creation is probably the Lead Cenobite… Er, I mean, Pinhead of Hellraiser fame. And why wouldn’t he be? He has a striking design, a compelling voice, a talented actor behind him… if only there was another Clive Barker-inspired horror villain like that…

Well, there is, and that would be Candyman, the Bloody Mary-esque spirit who kills any who chants his name five times into a mirror, eternally stalking the fringes of imagination and instilling fear due to his brutal murder by racists who despised him for impregnating a white woman. He cements himself as an incredible horror villain repeatedly throughout the half of the film he appears in, constantly badgering protagonist Helen and driving her to madness out of a sick desire to keep his myth alive.

And that’s sort of what this is: his obscurity bothers me quite a bit, so let’s try and spread the myth so you too can see why the Candyman is the sort of villain you would do well to remember the name of.

“Be my victim.”

Actor: Tony Todd plays the Candyman to perfection. The rich, terrifying quality of his voice is something absolutely legendary, and he manages to make him at once terrifying, remorseless, and somewhat tragic. And let’s not forget the man actually allowed himself to be covered in bees, and had live bees in his mouth. This guy’s a champ, and I will be forever angry they didn’t get him to play Dormammu in the MCU, opting instead for Benedict Cumberbatch’s placeholder voice. Life’s just not fair sometimes. But on the other hand, Todd is returning to the role in the 2020 Jordan Peele-produced “spiritual sequel” to the original film, so if nothing else, that movie is going to have the inimitable talent of the original Candyman on board.

Motivation/Goals: Candyman needs people to believe in him, because if he is allowed to fade from memory, he will cease to exist. However, Candyman also seems to want to target Helen specifically because of her probing into his legend, which brings a sort of public exposure that demystifies him, debunks his mythology, and strips him of the mystique that elevated him to the status of urban myth. He hunts Helen and torments her, framing her for his crimes at every turn to keep fear in the hearts of those in Cabrini-Green. Why he does what he does is probably the most fascinating aspect of the character, and ties in a lot with the more overt religious symbolism and observations on the mythological that the movie dives into.

Personality: Candyman is terrifying, cunning, and intimidating. He may actually be one of the smartest villains in horror, with how he constantly bamboozles Helen into taking the fall for his crimes. He most certainly has a bit of a god complex as well, considering how he’s a vengeful spirit who lives on as a terrifying urban legend.

Final Fate: Helen traps him in the burning pyre he was going to sacrifice her and the baby he kidnapped in, causing him to burn and explode into a flaming shower of bees. Guess we know where The Pain got his inspiration from.

Best Scene: The scene where he removes his coat and reveals his bee-infested ribcage to Helen, mainly because those are real bees all over Tony Todd and coming out of his mouth, and Virginia Madsen is allergic to bees and so ambulances had to be on standby. The fact these two were willing to go that extra mile to make this scene effective really seals the deal in my mind.

Best Quote: Everything out of Tony Todd’s mouth is amazing, but have this badass boast: “I am the writing on the wall. The whisper in the classroom. Without these things I am nothing, so I must shed innocent blood.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Candyman is a rich antagonist. The entire metaphysical angle of the film, such as the idea man created God and the power of urban myth, would only really work if it had a compelling being at the center of it all, and thankfully it does. From his cruel and sadly true-to-life manner of his death cementing him in legend to his relentless tormenting of Helen and destroying her life to the point that, in the end, she becomes an urban myth in her own right, the Candyman stands tall as a fascinating sort of spirit to analyze and meditate upon. Even right out the door, his nature as a perfect fusion of numerous urban legends – the Hookman and Bloody Mary in particular – just serves to make him some sort of terrifying figure that it’s easy to conceive of as some sort of spirit that teenagers would dare each other to summon. There’s just a lot going in with the guy.

He’s definitely not a typical slasher villain, that’s for sure, and I think that might be why he has a bit of obscurity compared to other iconic horror killers. Candyman as a film is a lot more cerebral than some of its horror contemporaries, and a lot of times audiences only want to see crazy kills, but that’s not really what this film was about; hell, it has plenty of violence but it’s not overly gory, which is probably why Candyman lags behind the other Clive Barker-inspired horror icon, Pinhead. And when Candyman did start going down the typical slasher route in the sequels, audiences tended to react negatively and the franchise died three films in. And it really is a shame, because the one constant in the series is how good Tony Todd’s performance is.

What I’m getting at is Candyman is a horror villain deserving of respect, even if, again like fellow horror icon Pinhead, it’s only for one or two films. He’s intriguing, he has mystique, he has a chilling voice, he’s portrayed by a talented actor… it should be no surprise he earns a 10/10. But all that being said, I kind of think Candyman being that sort of fringe horror villain, the one that people know but is just outside mainstream recognition, the one who is spoken of infrequently but with great reverence… Yeah, I think the Candyman would really love that.

Here’s hoping his 2020 return will deliver on the promise of sweets for the sweet. With Tony Todd coming back to don the pimp coat and bees once more, I can only imagine he will deliver unto his congregation yet again.

#Psycho Analysis #Candyman #Tony Todd

[just-come-baek]

Jewels

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Themes: smut | adventure!au | archeologist!reader | dodger!jk

Word count: 16.1k (whoops!)

Summary: Nobody said it’s going to be easy, but when Jeon Jungkook, the handsome troublemaker, tags along on my adventure, my simple trip morphs into a life-threatening mission. I was to find an ancient necklace and gain fame in the archeology field, but thanks to Jungkook’s mischief, we also attracted lots of unnecessary attention and plenty of enemies.

Warnings: unprotected sex (there’s a lot going on, and I’m not gonna spoil it here), foul language, questionable loyalty

A/N lightly inspired by adventure movies such as Tomb Rider, The Mummy, Indiana Jones, and maybe others but unconsciously

***

The first thing which hit me when I left the airport was the heat; it was scorching hot, humidity was unquestionably above seventy percent, and I knew my stay in Casablanca wasn’t going to be as pleasant as I had expected it to be regardless of being used to high temperatures. I could make it, though. Casablanca was just a stop before I’d head further toward my destination.

Adjusting my straw hat which almost got blown away by a sudden wave of sizzling wind, I grabbed my suitcase and headed to the taxi rank. My hotel was only fifteen minutes away from the airport, but I wouldn’t risk getting sunstroke at the very beginning of my journey.

Thankfully, the taxi driver spoke English.

It was the only upside, unfortunately, since I almost died inside the vehicle without air-conditioning. The driver was unbothered, and I wondered how the hell he could withstand such conditions. Or how people could endure such weather in general.

“First time in Casablanca?” The driver started, glancing at me in the stained rearview mirror.

“No,” I lied, “I come here every year,” I added, knowing better not to disclose such information as he might’ve taken advantage of me, the naïve and inexperienced tourist. “It feels like home,” I added, looking through the window, admiring the beautiful scenery while the taxi driver hummed in acknowledgment as he turned to the left.

“Have a nice stay,” he respectfully spoke as he handed me my suitcase, and I paid the fare.

“Thank you,” I replied, smiling at him brightly, glad he drove directly to my hotel and not around the whole city at least twice.

Blowing the fringe off my forehead, I clenched the suitcase with one hand, undoing two first buttons of my thin white blouse with the other one, desperately trying to cool off.

“That’s it, it’s your shot, don’t fucking waste it,” I muttered to myself, hoping the pep talk would help me not chicken out. It was my only chance, or I would be royally screwed in more sense than one. My career wouldn't be the only thing ruined.

Having delivered the motivational speech to myself, I raised my head high and went into the hotel. Unlike any other hotels, the one in which I was staying was flea-bitten; half of the bulbs weren’t working, dust was everywhere, and the smell of sweat and dirt hung in the air. Too bad, I couldn’t afford the night in a four-star hotel nearby.

On the bright side, I’m staying here only for one night.

Confidently, I reached the front desk, telling the receptionist personal information so he could give me the keys to the room booked under my name. Although he spoke pidgin English, I could pick up most of the instructions he needed to relay.

Though my room was of the best quality they could provide, I still had a handful of reasons to complain. I wasn’t going to, though. It was already nine o’clock in the evening, and knowing me, dirty windows or empty mini refrigerator or broken air-conditioning wouldn’t agitate me that much after a couple of drinks at the hotel’s bar.

Not bothering to unpack, I opened the window, hoping to air the room, so when I'd have returned it would be more bearable to survive the night.

“You got this,” I egged on, staring at my reflection in the stained mirror. “People will write about you in papers when you find that jewel.” I continued as I reapplied my red lipstick.

Most of the scientists believe the Aminata’s accessory is a myth, but I was going to find it, earning the glory and fame in archeology environment. The necklace is made of African’s biggest blood-red ruby, decorated with twelve large diamonds, and it said to have supernatural properties.

Four thousand years ago, Aminata was the most beautiful woman on the entire African continent, and though she didn’t have a wealthy background, no man could resist her beauty. Many wanted to marry her, and some of whom were ready to kill for her grace.

On her sixteenth birthday, a handsome nobleman paid her a visit. Enchanted by her beauty, he gave her the necklace which was a token of his feelings for her. The blood-red ruby symbolized he would execute anyone who dared to look into her eyes. The diamonds, depending on two different translations signified either all the lifetimes he was going to love her or the purity of his feelings.

He claimed her, but the attention she was receiving from other men grew. Whatever her desire was, she had plenty of volunteers to fulfill it. Despite the dazzling pendant around her neck, men still yearn for the tiniest bit of her attention, whereas women hated her enormously being driven by envy.

When sun descended behind the horizon and the moon shined brightly, a few high-positioned women (a few women with high-positioned husbands) went to an enchantress, inclined to sacrifice everything for Aminata’s death. In exchange for their tongues, the enchantress locked Aminata’s beauty in the necklace.

Aminata’s charms were gone the second the necklace got stolen by one of the women, Yaya. She possessed the beauty and forced the men to kill Aminata. They scarred her beautiful face and defiled her body, and when she begged for mercy, Yaya slid her throat.

When the night fell, the women commanded their slaves to take Aminata’s body on the boat and bury her corpse in a cave on one of the inhabited islands. Tempted to keep the necklace, Yaya earned disrespect from the other women. Out of hatred, the women locked out Yaya in the tomb with Aminata.

The necklace remains lost until now, but I’m about to change that. I studied the Senegalese legends for two years, writing my master degree paper on it, and I am determined to find it, shaking up the entire archeology field. It may be dangerous, but I am willing to face the odds if that means the Aminata’s necklace becomes mine.

Checking my appearance one more time in the mirror, I threw the bag over my shoulder, ready to get wasted. Maybe it was the last time I had a chance to get drunk, so I was going to make the best of my current situation even though a lot of aspects could be improved.

As soon as I walked inside, I felt all the eyes on me. Maybe ten people were seated in the bar, and all of them were men, so I wasn’t surprised by the commotion I was making. Ignoring their nasty stares, I sat down on a barstool, waiting for the bartender to approach me.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked in English, sensing I was a foreigner, and I smiled, staring at the bottles of alcohol which was sitting on the shelves behind him. It's my first time traveling alone, and given the circumstances, it may be my last, so I assumed it was an excellent opportunity to try something new and experiment a little.

“I’ll have a glass of bourbon with a lot of ice,” I ordered, and the bartender nodded.

“Put it on my tab,” a man, who was sitting two barstools away from me, spoke, as he tilted his glass a little, sending me a smirk. “What such a pretty little thing is doing in such a shabby place like this?” He inquired, his doe eyes scanning my frame.

“Getting hit on by random dudes,” I retorted, thanking the bartender who brought my order.

“Feisty, I like feisty,” he commented as he jumped off his barstool, taking the one beside me. “I’m Jungkook, and you are?” He introduced himself, offering a handshake which I hesitantly accepted. “What a pretty name,” he said when he heard me say it.

“And what are you doing here?” I curiously asked, cocking up my eyebrow. “You don’t exactly fit in here,” I pinpointed as I tasted the bitter drink which did not suit my preferences.

“Not as much as you,” Jungkook challenged, and I rolled my eyes at his hesitation to disclose any information about him. Either he was very secretive by nature, or he was hiding something, and I wasn’t going to be one of his victims if he was plotting something vicious.

“I am an archeologist,” I started, thinking how much I could tell him without risking anything. I was alone in a foreign country, I had to be cautious. “And I’m staying in Casablanca for one night before I join my crew in Algeria,” I added, hoping my deception was believable. “And what about you?”

Jungkook turned to me so I could have a better look on his sun-kissed skin, doe and innocent eyes, veiny forearms, muscular arms, his messy brown hair, and his toned chest which I could admire because of the deep neckline of his shirt. He sat there, effortlessly looking like a cover model, and his attention was entirely on me.

It was weird. I had to travel across the world to be noticed by a handsome male, while in my hometown guys drooled over girls with overdrawn eyebrows when I was literally there, waiting to be hit on.

Outrageous!

“I’m a freelance writer.” Jungkook easily answered, and I wondered why he didn’t want to admit that in the first place. He was just a stranger; I had no reason to not believe him. People would do much more than lying if that meant they could get laid. “You know… guidebooks and sometimes articles in travel magazines. And sometimes, I help people around the town.”

“That’s interesting; tell me more,” I urged him, sipping my drink. I had nothing better to do, so I might as well listen to his story. Apparently, Jungkook had traveled much more than I had, so he must’ve had a few stories to share. Also, his experience could be useful.

“What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear Casablanca?” Jungkook inquired, and I hummed, thinking about my answer. When I didn’t speak after a few seconds, Jungkook cleared his throat, “a lot of people associate Casablanca with that 1944 movie under the same title, and therefore – love. And currently, I write a guidebook, or maybe even an actual novel about different forms of love here. It may be something cliché-ridden like a newly-wedded couple making out on the beach, or something simple like a florist who gives flowers to beautiful girls free of charge. And frankly, I think Casablanca is more romantic than Paris.”

“Paris is so overrated,” I commented, nodding my head, as I agreed with him. Although I had never been to Paris, I had heard tales. Perhaps, I haven’t explored Casablanca the way the city deserves it, but I could tell it gave off that dreamy vibe.

“And what are you going to dig up, huh?” Jungkook casually asked as he whistled at the bartender, wanting a refill. Of course, he was curious. How could he be not?

“Are you seriously interested?” I questioned, and Jungkook eagerly nodded, smiling at me encouragingly. “Well… you are the first person who is excited to hear about me digging up pots.” I joked, and Jungkook chuckled at me almost lovingly. The Casablanca’s atmosphere must’ve got to him. “Have you ever heard about Aminata?” Jungkook shook his head.

“Is it something to eat?” He guessed, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

“No, Jungkook, it’s not food,” I clarified before I told him the legend purposefully missing, changing or adding minor details out of pure paranoia. I was being mistrustful, but it was my once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I couldn’t hand it over to a random guy in a hotel’s bar. My dignity wouldn’t allow me to come back home without it, and no matter how ridiculously good-looking Jungkook was, I wasn’t going to get distracted.

“Wow,” he said, impressed, “it’s tragic. Romantic, but tragic.”

“I guess.”

“Are you really going to find it?” Jungkook asked, and I firmly nodded. I would find that bloody necklace, or I’d die trying. “There’s one more question I want to ask; what made you want to become an archeologist? As far as I know, it’s a rare profession.”

“I suppose I’ve Indiana Jones one time too many,” I answered, and Jungkook laughed genuinely, and without any doubt, it was the most adorable sound I had heard in a long time.

“You really are something, aren’t you?” Jungkook challenged, and I shrugged shyly. I could feel his intense stare, and it made me feel weak. His huge eyes were looking into mine; his smile was wide and bright. “It’s so easy to talk to you. I could talk to you all night long.”

“Likewise,” I said shamelessly, finishing my drink, feeling quite buzzed.

“Rahim!” Jungkook hollered at the bartender. “Can we take this bottle to go?” The bartender approached us and placed the half-full bottle of bourbon on the counter.

“Add it to your tab, too?” Rahim asked, and Jungkook simply nodded, grabbing the bottle.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Jungkook jumped off the barstool, waiting for me to do the same, and when I was on my feet, he interlaced our fingers together. Quickly, I grabbed my glass, and we left the bar behind us.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

***

“It’s beautiful,” I said in admiration, as I looked at the pink sky; the sun was about to descend fully, and the colors across the horizon mixed stunningly. “Maybe the hotel doesn’t have many stars, but the view is marvelous,” I added, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“It would make a great postcard, wouldn’t it?” Jungkook sighed, and I pulled out my phone to snap a few pictures of the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen. “You know what’s also beautiful?” He asked, staring at me.

“Let me guess,” I muttered, paying him little attention. I was too engrossed in the view in front of me, so I was barely aware of what was going on around me. “Me?” I replied carelessly, as I had a feeling Jungkook was going to say something cheesy.

“Quite conceited, aren’t you?” Jungkook teased, and I blinked, realizing what I just said. “I wanted to say the lighthouse over there, but I must admit you’re not wrong,” he elaborated as he walked toward me, standing just behind my back.

“Sorry, I just assumed you tried to hit on me again,” I apologized, and Jungkook chuckled.

“I did, but in a less cringe-worthy way,” he agreed, and I turned to look at him; he was so close, and the warmth was emitting from his body made me question what was hotter – the weather itself or just he. “You ruined the mood, but are you at least a bit swooned?”

“Not really,” I answered honestly since my previous response was quite excruciating. “But I’m really into you so I wouldn’t really mind if you wanted to show me your room,” I added boldly, and Jungkook smirked, turning slightly, so his side was brushing against me.

“I hope you wouldn’t mind a little teaser,” I smiled, and Jungkook leaned forward to press a cautious kiss against my lips. As if tasting the waters, he gently nipped my lips, and when I kissed him back, he relaxed, moving against my mouth more courageously.

When he slowly pulled away and looked me in the eyes, I licked my lips before I said, “This won’t do; I need more.” Jungkook smirked mischievously, happy that I was thinking the same thing he did. There was no need to play dumb; I wanted him, and Jungkook wanted me, so it was pointless to play hard to get. Tomorrow, I was going to start my journey, and right now, Jungkook looked at me as if he wanted to devour me; a promise of unforgettable night glistened in his beautiful eyes, and I’d be a complete idiot if I rejected him. “Much more.”

I hadn’t been fucked properly for way too long, and now, I was going to have my brains fucked out. It was going to be the best lay of my life, so in case it would be my last, I definitely wasn't to regret it.

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook hollered cheerfully, as he cupped my face, and once again kissed me, making my legs shake under my weight. He was passionate and energetic, and that combination really got to my head; it was what I needed to ease the stress which had been accumulating in my body ever since I had decided to find the Aminata’s necklace.

“I’m not gonna put up a show here,” I warned him when his hand slid under my blouse. I had no problem with his touch; quite contrary, I’d urge him to caress my skin if he didn’t do it by now, but letting other people see me writhing under his ministrations? Never.

“There’s nothing you should be embarrassed about,” Jungkook said, gawking at me as if I was a piece of meat. “You’re gorgeous,” he added, leaning down to suck on my neck, while his palm still roamed around my stomach, upwards to my breasts.

“Still,” I whispered, as I closed my eyes, “I want you to be only one seeing me like this,” I continued, telling him that tonight, I belonged to him only. “But I hope everyone will hear me screaming your name when you make me come.”

“You know how to get me in the mood,” Jungkook admitted, and I smirked, as a sudden wave of confidence washed through me. Usually, I’d never do that, but the atmosphere and the circumstances and Jungkook made me act without putting much thought into my actions. Right now, I was bold and determined to have the night of my dreams with a stranger, and I couldn’t care any less about the consequences. None of it mattered anyway.

“Jungkook,” I moaned when his large hand massaged the inner side of my thigh. Instinctively, I pressed my legs together, squeezing his wandering palm before he touched my cotton panties. “Not here,” I purred when his mouth kissed my neck and throat, nipping gently.

“Let me, at least, eat you out here,” Jungkook whispered into my ear, as he pinched my thigh, making me spread my legs a little. “I promise, no one will see you,” he added, as his right hand traveled up to my panties, tugging it playfully.

I had no idea what got into me, but the idea of Jungkook on his knees right now, eating me out was more than arousing. With his head under my skirt and between my legs, with his tongue on my clit, with his fingers up my pussy; just thinking about it made me dizzy. I’d probably faint if he started his ministrations.

“What do you say?” Jungkook purred against my skin, while his hand was teasing me by pulling on the hem of my panties. “Agree, I know you want to,” he continued, gently rubbing his nose against my neck.

“Yes,” I mumbled so quietly I thought he might’ve not heard me. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was pressed tightly against me, I’d probably have to repeat myself, losing the last bit of my composure. I barely knew Jungkook, yet I’d bend however he told me to; it only took a snap of his fingers, and I’d fulfill his every wish regardless of how freaky it could be.

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook breathed out and pulled down my panties in one fluid motion, his large hand grazing my skin. Instinctively, I raised my right leg and then left one, helping him to get rid of my undergarment – which in a matter of seconds was pushed into his pocket.

“Jungkook,” I moaned his name when he rubbed his erection against me, turning me on even more. I hadn’t felt this hot in months, and he barely touched me. If he was going to keep up the pace, I would explode before we’d reach his room.

“What is it, baby?” Jungkook asked innocently, teasing me, evidently trying to strip me of the remains of my dignity. He heard me, but I had a hunch he wanted to hear me beg. “That’s right, that’s my name,” he spoke in a low voice; his hands cupped my butt, squeezing it.

“You like teasing, don’t you?” I inquired, hoping to sound less affected than I was; my voice would break in an embarrassing stutter, but my articulation was the last thing Jungkook paid attention to. “Just eat me out already!” I cried out, frustrated with his ministrations.

“Teasing? Only you,” he mocked. “And for someone so reluctant about being eaten out here, you seem very eager now,” Jungkook continued to provoke me, his finger finally touching my clit, making me gasp at the sudden sparkle of pleasure. Because of the lack of attention to my sensitive bundle of nerves, the slightest of his touches was setting me on fire.

“P-please,” I begged as I shut my eyes close, feeling my knees give up under his compelling touch. “Jungkook, please, just do it,” I carried on, as I yanked him closer by his belt, moaning when his prominent erection rubbed against me.

“Spread those beautiful legs for me, baby,” Jungkook commanded, playfully slapping the inner side of my thigh, and I obeyed without thinking. Holding my breath, I leaned against the concrete railing. With a smug smirk on his face, I watched Jungkook got on his knees in front of me, getting lost in my wild fantasies when he lustfully licked his lips.

“Oh, God,” I breathed out when Jungkook pressed his mouth against my clit, kissing it so sensually. “Mm…” I huffed in pleasure, as Jungkook sucked on my clit, sending me into overdrive so quickly. His hands were on my butt, pulling me closer, his nose was grazing against my pubic mound, his tongue licking my folds.

I was panting; I gave myself all to Jungkook, letting him do everything he wanted, and I loved writhing under his will. I hadn’t felt this good in weeks, or maybe even months, but damn; I was floating over the cloud nine because of his touch.

“I love how you respond,” Jungkook muttered, as he pulled away from me. I was so sensitive, and when Jungkook gently tugged on my clit, I just kept pressing myself against him, desperate to feel more.

“Keep going, Jungkook,” I moaned, licking my lips. “Fuck me with your fingers,” I voiced quietly, hoping he would consider my humble request. His tongue felt divine, the way it flicked against my folds sent shivers down my spine, the way it swirled around my clit made my toes curl, but it wasn’t enough. “I need more.”

“You’re so needy,” Jungkook chimed in, as he pulled away and looked into my eyes. His chin was glistening with my juices, and his lips were swollen from all the work he had done, and he looked incredible. He was handsome, but right now, he looked like a deity. “How much do you want my fingers? Would you fuck yourself on them?”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you tell me to,” I answered obediently, afraid that he’d stop unless I gave him a definite reply quickly. “Please, Jungkook, I was so close,” I begged, and Jungkook generously complied with my plea. “Oh, yes,” I gasped when he inserted his middle finger in my drenching pussy.

“Tell me how much you love it,” Jungkook urged, and I moaned my gratitude, but words were incomprehensible, and I hoped that my attempts to praise him would suffice. “I made you feel so good that you can’t even speak; damn, you love my fingers,” he teased, adding another finger, curling it inside of me, almost throwing off the edge.

“Yes!” I hollered between my shallow breaths, all tensed, sensing my orgasm approaching. Just the way Jungkook had suspected it, I rocked my hips against his hand, needing his fingers deeper inside of me. “Yes, yes, yes. Jungkook, don’t stop!” I screamed, not bothering who might’ve heard me. At the moment, I only cared about Jungkook and my impending high.

“That’s right, squeeze around my fingers,” Jungkook egged me on, though I’d do it without his encouragement; he agitated fire in my veins, and when he started to suck on my clit again, I reached the moment of explosion. With the final thrust, my blood burnt, my vision blazed white, my throat growled his name, and my body thawed out falling straight into his arms.

“Jungkook–“

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” Jungkook stood up, showing me his hand all covered in my juices. “You look so blown away,” he added, staring into my eyes, as he licked his fingers clean. “So fucked out,” Jungkook pointed out, planting a peck in the corner of my lips.

“Well… yeah… you’ve got very skillful fingers,” I spoke, wrapping my hand in his; it was still a bit sticky, but we were also covered in sweat, so I didn’t care about it that much. “Thank you so much, I really needed that.”

“Don’t thank me now, you’ll thank me later when you feel my cock,” he corrected me, as he looked down at our interlocked hands, giving it a light squeeze. “My room or yours?” With a twinkle in his eyes, he asked directly, and I smiled, refraining myself from throwing myself into his arms, so he could take me to his chamber and fuck me all night long.

“The one which is closer,” I eagerly answered when I bit my bottom lip, looking at his erection, still cramped in his trousers. “You’ve been so hard for so long, your dick is gonna fall off,” I retorted cheekily, and Jungkook smirked at me.

“We could always finish up here,” he egged on, but I firmly shook my head; it was enough of exhibitionism for today. For maybe months, even. “Whatever you say, but sex under the starry sky? Mind-blow-ing,” Jungkook stated, articulating each syllable, but he might’ve as well spelled it out for me, yet it still wouldn’t change my mind. I’d rather have him in the sheets. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

“Maybe some other time,” I said vaguely, running my hands across his chest, entwining my fingers behind his neck. “Indoor sex can be mind-blowing, too,” I added, staring at his swollen lips when I licked mine.

“Oh, yes,” Jungkook breathed out, quickly throwing his hands on my butt, hoisting me up. “Hold on,” he said when I wrapped my legs around his waist, “let’s not forget about the booze,” he added, as he turned around, letting me grab the bottle and the glasses before we forgot about it. “I bet sex with you is always amazing. You got the prettiest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Jungkook whispered, and his words affected me much more than I would’ve guessed.

“Oh, Jungkook,” I murmured against his skin, nipping on his neck teasingly, and since Jungkook didn’t seem to mind my ministrations, I continued to suck the hickey while he was walking down the stairs. “I want to feel you inside of me,” I purred into his ear, and Jungkook immediately stopped in his track, pressing me against the wall quite aggressively.

“You do tend to speak carelessly,” he whispered, his voice giving me chills. “I barely control myself around you,” he added, playfully nipping my earlobe. Jungkook was sensual, and I was incredibly close to letting him fuck me right here in this shabby corridor. “If you keep talking like that I may not be able to hold myself back any longer.”

“I will make it up to you, I promise,” I muttered before I smashed my lips against his in another hungry kiss. “I will suck your cock dry if you want me to,” I added, and Jungkook began the walk to his bedroom.

“I want this and much more,” Jungkook mischievously added when we reached his room.

Quickly, Jungkook opened his room and let me enter it first, acting like a real gentleman.

When Jungkook was closing the doors behind us, I placed the alcohol on the cabinet. Then, I took my shoes off and looked around, wanting to study the interior, silently judging if his room looked fancier than mine. Unfortunately, the moment I started my thorough analysis, Jungkook wrapped his hand around my wrist, swiftly turned me around and yanked me against his muscular body.

My eyes gazed into his, instantly seeing the pure desire in them. Jungkook had already made me come, and now, he deserved to reach his orgasm too.

“Come here,” he muttered, and I, as if I were under his spell, wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him slowly. His bottom lip felt incredibly soft between mine. Quickly, his hands found a purchase on my hips, as he pulled me closer, and I deepened our kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you. You drive me crazy,” Jungkook confessed, and I moaned feeling the same; with each move of his lips, I felt thirstier and thirstier.

Slowly, my hands roamed across his shoulders, down his chest until they reached the buckle of his belt. Biting my bottom lip, I undid it along with the button of his trousers.

“Can you do it any slower?” Jungkook asked in mock anger, impatient with my ministrations. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he added, and I smiled when I realized how he called me. I had never been a fan of pet names, but when one rolled of Jungkook’s tongue, it genuinely made me feel wanted and adored even though I was just about to kneel and suck his cock. “Please, have mercy.”

Having pulled his zipper down, I pushed his trousers down his muscular thighs, leaving him only in his deep-cut shirt and a pair of boxers. The bulge was impressive, and I unconsciously licked my lips, admiring the view in front of me.

Enthusiastically, I got on my knees, pulling his boxers down, making his erection spring out of its restraint right in front of my face. “Oh my,” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish my thought. I really wanted to suck his cock and make him come either down my throat or on my face or whatever he wanted to.

“You know what to do sweetheart,” Jungkook said, as he grabbed his cock and gave it a few lazy strokes. Damn, it was hot. His veiny hand was moving smoothly up and down his length, as he stared down at me, waiting for me to take care of him.

Gently, I put my hand over his. “Let me,” I whispered, and Jungkook took his hand away, allowing me to touch him. His cock was throbbing in my hand, as I stroked him carefully, feeling the slight curve of his erection and prominent veins.

“That’s right,” Jungkook sighed, kicking his head backward, giving into the pleasure I was giving me. “Spit on my cock,” he instructed, and I followed his order, quickly smearing my saliva over his length, mixing it with a bit of the precum. His cock was slick, and my hand moved quickly, making him grunt in enjoyment.

Shortly after, I leaned forward and started to suck on the tip of cock while still running my hand up and down his erection. Jungkook thrust his hips slightly and hissed when he felt the tip of my tongue on his cock.

“Oh God, yes,” he praised, and I hummed, glad that he enjoyed my ministrations. “Yeah, suck me off, just like that,” he grunted, as he shut his eyes close, giving completely into the pleasure. Eagerly, I hollowed my cheeks, taking more and more of him, resting my hands on his hips. My head bobbed back and forth as I sucked him, my tongue gently pressing on the veiny underside of his cock. “Oh my God,” Jungkook whined in enjoyment when I squeezed his balls with one of my hands.

“Do you like what I’m doing to you?” I asked as I pulled out with a pop. “Are you going to come?” I asked innocently, still playing with his balls. Jungkook looked down at me, but I just smirked, leaning down, pressing my tongue against the tip of his cock, licking it down to its base along a large vein. “You are close, aren’t you?” I teased, chuckling when Jungkook’s cock started to twitch in my palms.

“You won’t be smirking when I am done with you,” Jungkook warned me, but I only giggled to his threat. If he was going to fuck me into oblivion, I’d gladly take that punishment. “No one has ever fucked you like I’m about to,” he added, and I only hoped he wasn’t all talk and no action.

“Can’t wait,” I muttered before I once again put his cock into my mouth, sucking him off eagerly. Jungkook, on the other hand, decided to take control of the situation. Gently, he grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his hand as he wanted to give me his rhythm.

“Will you be a good girl and let me come in your mouth?” Jungkook asked, and though I had never let men finish on my tongue, I couldn’t bring myself to decline him. Jungkook woke up my inner most-hidden desires, and right now, I would let him do anything. Even if he wanted me to swallow his cum, I would do it with pleasure. With him, I felt like a sex goddess, and I was eager to cross all of my past boundaries.

Tonight, I had no inhibitions.

It could be my last time having sex, and I was going to make the most of it.

Jungkook was on the verge of coming, and I felt needy too, so my hand reached down to rub my clit. He had given me one orgasm, but I was ready for more.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked as he pulled my hair, staring at me touching myself. “Stop it. Only I can touch this pussy,” he added authoritatively, and I quickly stopped since I didn’t want to upset him. Although it was difficult to resist this temptation, I had a feeling that Jungkook would reward my obedience.

Biting his bottom lip, Jungkook closed his eyes before he began thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth. His hips quickly snapped, but he didn’t push it beyond my limits. Though he was a little upset about my urgency, he respected my boundaries and didn’t force his cock, so it didn't become unpleasant to me. His thick cock gagged me a little, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook breathed out when he pulled out. “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he urged me, and I instantly complied with his order, being too enchanted by his quiet grunts. I have always thought that men moans were the hottest thing a man could do during sex, and Jungkook only proved me right now.

With a throaty groan of my name, Jungkook came, milking my tongue with his massive load. His hand moved across his shaft quickly throughout his orgasm, and I moaned when I felt the taste of his cum in my mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl and swallow it?” Jungkook asked me in between his shallow breaths, and I obediently nodded my head, fulfilling his request. “That was so hot,” he added, as he stretched his hand for me to take it, so he could help me stand up from my knees.

“Everything you do is hot too,” I honestly said, “and I am really needy,” I added innocently, smiling at him, slowly unbuttoning the last piece of clothing which he had on.

“Once I fuck you, you’ll never get enough of me,” Jungkook muttered when I slid my hands under the silk material of his shirt, slowly pushing it off his shoulders. “Why don’t you put up a little show for me? You’ve got so many clothes on,” Jungkook started as he lazily moved towards the bed.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I teased, pushing him backward, so he stumbled on the bed, staring at me as if he were an addict and I was a sweet dose of drugs. “Sit back and enjoy,” I said, having no idea how the hell he made me so confident.

Putting attention to every detail, I started to unbutton my shirt, doing it agonizingly slowly. Jungkook enjoyed my performance; I was teasing him, but I could tell he liked every second of it. When my shirt hung freely over my shoulders, Jungkook leaned back, propping his body on his elbows.

“You’re killing me. I’m gonna be hard again, and you haven’t even taken your shirt off,” Jungkook complained, but I only giggled, glad that my show was affecting him that much.

Smirking at him, I pushed my shirt off my shoulders, letting him admire my body clad only in a simple bra and a skirt. His eyes studied my appearance, and I didn’t need any other validation that I looked stunning.

“Do you mind bringing me a drink?” Jungkook requested politely, and I gladly poured us drinks even though the alcohol didn’t particularly fit my preferences. With two glasses of clear whiskey, I approached him and handed him one. “To your success,” he whispered before he clinked his glass against mine and drank the half of the liquor.

Sitting on his rock-hard thighs, I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. As if enchanted, Jungkook sat up, staring in admiration at my breasts. Quickly, he placed his glass on the floor beside the bed, desperate to touch me. In an instant, I felt his large hands on my sides, slowly riding up to my bare breasts.

Jungkook started to kiss the curve of my neck, and I kicked my head backward, giving him more access to my skin. His thumbs gently played with my nipples while his lips covered my collarbones with kisses, and his tender ministrations made me buckle my hips against his flaccid cock.

“Jungkook,” I moaned quietly, and Jungkook’s mouth turned into a wide smile. He was very pleased with himself whenever I reacted to his touches. “Why don’t you lie down?” I asked him, pushing him onto the mattress before he managed to reply.

“Why don’t you hump me until I’m hard again to fuck you?” Jungkook said, correctly seeing through my intentions. “Or maybe you think you could get yourself off against me?”

“I’d rather feel your cock inside of me, but if you can’t pop another hard-on, I guess you’ll leave me no choice but satiate my needs with dry-humping you,” I teased him before I leaned forward to shut him up with a kiss. I’ve had enough of talking; I wanted another orgasm to wash through me. Besides, I was sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind another one, too.

“Baby,” Jungkook moaned the moment I started to rub my drenching pussy against his limp cock. “It feels too good,” he added, but once again I shut him up with a passionate kiss. My tongue danced with his in imperfect sync, his hands roamed all over my hips and thighs, while I rocked myself against his half-erect dick.

“Oh fuck,” I cursed when Jungkook cupped my breasts and pinched my hard nipples. “Oh my God, yes, Jungkook, yes!” I shouted, rubbing myself against him way harder. It felt good, and that stimulation almost made me reach my high.

“You’re a real freak in the sheets,” Jungkook commented, amused by his remark. “You really need my cock, don’t you?” He inquired, as he stared at my desperate moves against his length. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He asked, and mirroring my previous bossy mannerism, he didn’t wait for my reply, but he just pushed me onto the mattress and got on top of me, his hard cock poking my folds.

“Jungkook, please, fuck me with your cock already,” I urged him, but Jungkook only smirked before he grabbed his thick length and with its tip slapped my drenching pussy, making me choke on a throaty moan. The sensation was erratic, and though he didn’t penetrate me, I felt another wave of warmth surge through my body.

“How can I say no when you’re asking so nicely,” Jungkook whispered, and I buckled my hips against his erection. Though I was desperately whining for his touch, I wasn’t ashamed of my words. We both had needs which we were going to deliver to each other.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” I breathed out when Jungkook slowly eased himself in, stretching out my walls. “It feels so, so good,” I added, raising my hips off the mattress, only to have them pinned back to the bed by his strong hands.

“Lie still,” Jungkook commanded, and though I felt tempted to roll on top of him and ride him, I decided to follow his order. Despite looking my age, Jungkook perfectly knew how to please a woman, and I was going to let him take care of me.

Staring into my eyes, Jungkook pushed his length inside of me. Trying my best not to react, I bit my bottom lip, waiting for Jungkook to make another move. Gently, he massaged my thighs before he slowly wrapped them around his hips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sending me a mischievous smirk which could only mean trouble. Before I managed to reply, Jungkook started to slam his fat cock in and out of me, making me a whining mess beneath him.

Sweat was rolling down his forehead and chest, and I couldn’t help myself but admire the wild beast which fucked me senseless. Though he only started, and I was nowhere near the orgasm, I felt tiny sparks of electricity erupting in every cell of my body. His pounding was incredibly pleasurable, and I knew the orgasm would be bone-crushing.

The bed creaked in the rhythm of Jungkook’s thrusts and my moans. The sounds of our bodies colliding and Jungkook’s quiet breaths rang in my ears made me close my eyes and grip on the sheets, completely giving myself into the pleasure.

After a while, Jungkook’s tempo slowed down, but I couldn’t complain when he was pounding his cock inside of me and rubbing my clit simultaneously.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Jungkook grunted, and I obediently nodded my head.

Jungkook was falling out of his rhythm when I was near my orgasm. My walls started to tighten around his cock, and I moaned his name. “Jungkook, I’m…” I started, my voice breaking, since I was feeling too good to sound comprehensive. “I’m gonna come.”

The moment when I was panting, when my blood was boiling, when I was about to explode, Jungkook stopped. With a smug smirk on his face, he pulled out, denying my second orgasm.

“That’s not cool,” I said, starting to giggle. This situation was ridiculous.

“You have to trust me,” Jungkook whispered, as he massaged my thigh gently. I wanted to purr, but before I managed to produce a sound, Jungkook suddenly turned me around, making me lie on my stomach. “Butt up, sweetheart,” he ordered in a seductive voice, and I instantly obeyed his command.

On my fours, I waited for his touch. Carefully, he traced the tips of his fingers across my thighs up to my butt. Then, taking me aback, Jungkook slapped my butt. Though it didn’t hurt me, it left a pleasant stinging sensation.

“You like that, don’t you?” Jungkook purred into my ear when he pushed his cock inside of me from behind and leaned against my back. “Admit that no one has ever fucked you the way I’m doing it now,” he whispered while pounding in and out of me.

“Jungkook, yes, yes,” I breathed out, gripping the sheets when I slowly neared the bliss. “You’re the best I’ve ever had,” I moaned, craning my neck as I needed to kiss him.

“That’s right,” Jungkook let out a throaty moan, making me shiver. His body was making me feel amazing, but his raspy voice was going to be the death of me. By far, it was the sexiest sound which had ever rung in my ears.

“Jungkook, can I ride you?” I asked quickly, as I thought about sitting on his muscular thighs, sliding up and down his pulsating cock.

“Fuck yes,” he eagerly answered before he pulled out and sat up, leaning his back against the headrest. “Come on, jump on it,” Jungkook urged me, and I, with a mischievous smirk on my face, I sat astride him.

“I’m really frustrated,” I truthfully said as I looked into his eyes and entwined my fingers behind his neck. “No more playing dirty,” I added when I started to move my hips, rubbing my drenching slit against his veiny cock.

Jungkook’s grip on my hips tightened slightly. “Jump. On. It.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, sounding quite angry.  He was just as impatient, and I, obeying his order, sat down on his cock. “Mm… Good girl,” he whispered before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

His kiss was passionate, and it felt as if our lips molded together. His hands held my hips, giving me guidance, helping me set the right tempo. God, it felt like heaven.

“I’m coming,” I moaned, as I increased my pace, giving him no chance to deny me of another orgasm. I’d die if he stopped me again from reaching the blissful high.

“I’m close, too,” Jungkook genuinely admitted before he captured my lips again. My walls were squeezing around his throbbing cock as I entirely gave in to my instincts. I moved up and down his erection until I felt an explosion of pleasure rip me apart.

Jungkook came a few seconds after me, growling my name as he milked my walls with his cum. All covered in sweat, Jungkook looked at me, and I just started to giggle.

“It was…”

***

According to the analog clock on the desk in the corner of Jungkook’s room, it was five o’clock. Jungkook was lying on the bed beside me, breathing soundly, and for a brief moment, I marveled his gorgeous looks; his muscular body, his soft hair and his sun-kissed skin with a variety of love marks I had given him when he had been pushing all the right buttons. Damn it; even his eyelashes were beautiful, casting shadow on his cheeks.

No matter how much I fancied having another round in the morning, I had to leave; I am a woman on a mission, and now, when the night was over, I had to return to my priorities. The fling with Jungkook was unforgettable, but I had to flee his chamber.

My legs were sore, but strangely I felt energized; almost as if I had slept for twelve hours, not two. It must’ve been the hormones.

In haste, I collected my clothes, carelessly putting it back on my body. From time to time, I’d peek at Jungkook, yet every time when my eyes landed on his frame, he was sleeping soundly, as if it was the first time in years he had such a calm slumber.

Sighing at the beautiful sight in front of me, I turned around and left.

***

As soon as I stepped into my room, I undressed and headed to the bathroom, desperately needing a shower. I was sticky with sweat and my and Jungkook’s arousals, and I just had to clean myself.

Quickly, I turned on the tap, letting the water spill on the yellowish tiles. “Mm… he was so good,” I daydreamt, thinking of the night escapade with Jungkook, and how he made me feel. He was just a mere stranger, but none of my previous lovers had satisfied me even half as good. Too bad we would never meet again; I’ll be on my way before he’d even wake up.

“Get a grip,” I spoke to myself, hating how much he was distracting me although I had met him less than ten hours ago. Yes, the sex was mind-blowing. Yes, we had gone a few rounds. Yes, it was by far the best sex of my life. It felt like heaven, but I have a goal. I needed to stay focused, so regardless of how many pictures of him my mind would project, of how his deep voice echoed in my subconsciousness, of how I still felt his touch on my flesh, I had to figure out how I’d get to Senegal.

After what it felt like an hour, I stepped out of the shower with a towel tightly wrapped around my body. I was to spend maybe a few days in the wilderness, so instead of wearing my typical clothing, which consisted of a button down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a skirt, I put on one set of specially bought clothes.

Three days before the flight, I had purchased a pair of waterproof trekking boots, a few sets of bamboo organic cotton underwear, and of course, T-shirts and shorts made out of breathable fabric. I was prepared for heat, for flood, and any other climate anomaly in that region. I had even got vaccinated for exotic bugs, insects and other viruses.

When my phone was getting charged to the fullest, I threw everything out of my suitcase and packed the necessities into a huge backpack. I had nutritious food, a special bottle to filter water, ropes, and other archeology gear which I’d need to get into the tomb.

By seven o’clock, I was ready to leave. Nervously, I adjusted my backpack’s straps, and with my head high, I left my room and headed to the reception desk to check out. The receptionist was a bit startled by the change in my appearance, but he didn’t say anything; probably because he couldn’t formulate his commentary within his narrow range of English vocabulary.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say goodbye,” I heard a familiar voice the second I stepped out of the hotel. Instantly, I turned around and saw Jungkook, in a fresh set of clothes, leaning against the wall, munching on an apple. “You didn’t leave a note, either.”

“Sorry,” I said nervously, not sure how to talk to him. We were never supposed to meet again, yet there he was, apparently waiting for me. “Why are you up so early?” Folding my arms across my chest, I asked. He had never told me he had a reason to get up so early in the morning.

“I don’t sleep alone very well,” he added, as he pushed himself off the wall, and threw the half-eaten apple on the ground.

“Then I hope tonight someone will keep you company until you’re well rested,” I said politely, giving him a wide smile, hoping he’d get the clue that I didn’t have time to chat with him now. I really wished him well; I couldn’t stay any longer, and I didn’t want him to get lonely. “And if you excuse me, I have a bus which I need to catch.”

“How can you be so cold to me?” Jungkook asked, and I sighed, regretting that I had stopped when I had heard his voice. I should’ve ignored him then; I should’ve pretended not to hear him. “And why are you in such a rush? We could have breakfast together–“

“I’ve already eaten, sorry,” I interjected before he’d lure me back to the hotel with his handsome looks and tantalizing stare. “And yeah, I’m in a hurry, so have a nice day, but I gotta go,” I added with a smile, turning on my heel so I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

“But you have to try some of the Moroccan dishes before you leave,” Jungkook concluded, but I wasn’t having this. Yes, it could be delicious, but I really had more important stuff which had to be dealt with immediately. I couldn’t afford to get stalled and/or distracted.

“Your proposition is tempting, like really tempting, but I just can’t,” I spoke, trying to sound as genuine as I could. I didn’t want to be rude, but in my life were plenty of things which were more important than man’s companionship. Jungkook was amazing, but right now, my work was my priority. “I’m sorry, Jungkook,” I added quietly, before I turned around on my heel, and started to walk away.

“That’s too bad,” Jungkook added, “but have I ever mentioned that I have a chopper?” When I heard him, I immediately stopped in my track. I didn’t have to face him to know that this bastard was smugly smirking. “It’s not healthy to start a journey on an empty stomach. Please, have breakfast with me, and I’ll give you a lift to wherever you meet your crew.”

I must’ve gone crazy to actually consider Jungkook’s proposition. I didn’t know anything about him; how could I even think about accepting his ridiculous offering? Especially when there was no crew waiting for me anywhere, and I was headed in the opposite direction to what I had told him. It wasn’t a good idea to involve him, even though he could prove himself incredibly useful. Owning a chopper, for example.

“You lie, you wouldn’t be staying in this hotel if you could afford a chopper,” I concluded, still hesitant to his offering. It didn’t make any sense.

“Here’s where you’re wrong,” Jungkook said with a mischievous smirk upon his face. “You see, I’m supposed to write about regular people, and if I stayed in a fancy-ass hotel, who could I write about? Probably, some rich assholes who came here with their side-chicks to cheat on their wives. And I got my chopper from my super-rich sponsor who apparently loves my feuilletons.” Jungkook explained, and even if he lied, his reasoning made sense.

“Fine, I guess I could find an hour to have something to eat,” I gave up, and Jungkook smiled radiantly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders when he approached me. “Okay, Jungkook, lead the way,” I urged him, but Jungkook only beamed, guiding me to his favorite restaurant.

The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, but I liked its homely atmosphere. Taking the table next to the window, Jungkook waved at the waitress, as he was ready to order without looking at the menu.

The woman smiled at him, and he smiled at her when they shared a conversation in a language I didn’t understand. However, judging by Jungkook’s frequent glances toward my direction, I had a suspicion that he was ordering me food.

Once the women walked away, Jungkook looked at me, and I instantly asked him. “What was this about?” I couldn’t help myself but be curious.

“Nothing, I just ordered some must-tries. We’re leaving Casablanca today, and you just have to try some of the dishes here.” Jungkook explained, and I internally cringed at the pronoun he used. He was just helping me to get from one place to another; he wasn’t my side-kick.

Though it didn’t sit right with me, I didn’t correct him. My bus left a few minutes ago, I couldn’t lash out at him, and then have him nullify our agreement.

“So what have you ordered for me?”

“A little bit of everything, you know,” Jungkook said, looking through the window. “I got you some fruit with yogurt, a plate of Sfenj, and fried eggs with olives. It’s really delicious.”

“I don’t really like eggs, so I guess I’ll enjoy my Sfen-something – whatever that is,” I added, and Jungkook chuckled.

“Sfenj are a type of deep-fried Moroccan fritter,” Jungkook explained, and I nodded my head, thinking it wouldn’t be half bad. “And whether you like it or not, you should eat the eggs, not only they’ll be amazing, but also you need a lot of protein.”

“Ugh, you sound like my father,” I grunted, remembering a dozen fights with my family regarding my eating habits.

“Well… I wouldn’t mind you calling me daddy,” Jungkook said, and I rolled my eyes, glad that the food wasn’t yet served because otherwise some of it would end up on his face. “What? Don’t act so coy. After last night, I know your true colors. You’re a freak.”

“I was just caught in the heat of the moment.” I tried to defend myself, but when I saw another smirk on Jungkook’s face, I knew it had no sense. No matter what I would tell him, it wouldn’t change his opinion about me and my kinks.

As soon as our food was served, we started munching it almost as if we were starved for a few days. Our physical acts must’ve drained us of energy more than anyone of us had thought.

“So… where are we headed?” Jungkook asked when he finished his serving, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin.

“A nameless island west of Ziguinchor, Senegal,” I said, and Jungkook looked the location on his phone, as he was probably unfamiliar with this region. Furrowing his eyebrows, he thought of the best route how to get there. It was difficult itself, but given the fact that the island wasn’t drawn on most of the maps, wasn’t making his task any easier.

“It’s not even on the map,” Jungkook muttered, cocking up his eyebrow, being even more curious than before. It was mysterious, and it definitely piqued his interest. “It’s gonna be difficult, but screw it, let’s do it,” he added happily, as he locked his phone and placed it on the table, giving me his full attention.

“Thanks, Jungkook, I really appreciate your help,” I added before I returned to my breakfast.

“No problem, I was getting bored here anyway,” Jungkook shrugged, sending me another bright beam. “So how about you finish your breakfast, and I’ll go get my stuff. I’ll pay for our meal, and let’s meet outside in ten, okay?”

“Sure.”

 ***

 Within ten minutes Jungkook met me outside. He was carrying a large backpack on his back, and despite his handsome features and a bucket hat on his head, he looked ridiculous.

“Okay, show me your chopper,” I said with a smirk as I couldn’t wait to start the journey. The breakfast with Jungkook was a delight, but I had a pretty tight schedule, and it was about time to get going.

“We have a long journey ahead of us, sweetheart,” Jungkook said, as he showed me the way to his car. “I googled the distance, and we’re gonna be lucky to get there before the nightfall.”

Although we were on a pretty hectic schedule, we managed to board the chopper before 9 o’clock. Jungkook carried our backpacks inside and sat in the pilot’s seat, and I just followed quietly behind him, letting him work in peace.

“You know… you would be an awesome stewardess,” Jungkook said, trying to start a conversation with me for the nth time this day. “With your long legs, and everything else,” he finished his thought, but I was lost for words. I already was an outstanding archeologist, and I didn’t have to have long legs to prove how great I was at it.

“How long is it gonna take?” I questioned, getting a bit impatient. I had been studying Senegalese legends for years, and now, I was near to my first great discovery.

“Why? Do you hate my company so much?” Jungkook teased, and I just rolled my eyes. “If the rest of the flight will be as smooth, we’re gonna be there in an hour or so.”

“That’s good,” I said with a deep sigh before I looked through the window, admiring the calm sea below us. “Thank you, Jungkook. And sorry for being so sour in the morning, I was just anxious.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand; you must be under a lot of pressure,” Jungkook answered with a soft smile, as he looked at me. “Oh shit,” Jungkook cursed, his beam fading away. Quickly, I cocked up my eyebrows, having no clue what caused his sudden change in his behavior.

Still confused, I looked through the window again. I saw another chopper. Why did it make Jungkook freak out a little? What was going on?

“Hold on something,” Jungkook ordered, and I clutched the armrests of my seat.

“What the hell? What is going on?” I asked, but Jungkook didn’t even bother to answer my questions. Instead, he focused on the buttons in front of him, pressing one after another, making the machine soar higher.

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t entirely honest with you,” Jungkook started, and I looked at him in panic. What the fuck he meant by that?! “So, this chopper isn’t technically mine. It’s my friend’s, and he sometimes gets a little bit angry with me when I borrow it without his direct permission,” he explained, but I didn’t trust him wholeheartedly.

He had lied to me once, and he could do it again.

“Don’t worry, though. Namjoon’s harmless,” Jungkook added, trying to calm me down. Unfortunately, the moment I heard his words, the glass of my window cracked after what it seemed a bullet. “Or maybe, I’ve angered him one time too many,” Jungkook smiled sheepishly, as he swerved the chopper around, trying to avoid getting shot again.

“What the fuck?” I screamed, losing my composure. It was supposed to be a peaceful expedition, and right now, someone was aiming a gun at us. That’s not what I signed up for! “Jungkook, do something!”

“Don’t panic; I already see the island,” Jungkook replied, but his statement didn’t calm me down; not when more shots were fired our direction. It was difficult to remain level-headed, I did my best. Of course, everything changed when I felt a sharp pull right before when our chopper started to descend. All kinds of alarms flared red and began ringing, and I was terrified when I realized that we were going to die regardless of how tight I was holding onto my seat. We were doomed.

My heart was beating rapidly, my knuckles were white due to clutching onto my seat, and my eyes were shut. I was too cowardly to face reality when the death was about to swallow us in a few brief moments as soon as the chopper would collide with the surface of the water.

“Come on, we have to jump,” I barely heard Jungkook over my pathetic meltdown. I could comprehend only bits and pieces of his words, but thankfully, Jungkook just grabbed my hand, and yanked me out of my seat, handing me my backpack. “I hope you know how to swim,” Jungkook shouted before he opened the doors and pushed me out of the chopper.

I was in complete shock; one moment I was sure I was going to die, while a few seconds later I screamed my lungs out, waving my hands back and forth as I fell down into the water.

When I regained the remains of my composure, it was already on the narrow beach. I had no idea how long it took me to get to the shore, nor how I managed to swim such a long distance with my pathetic stamina.

Spitting seawater, I threw my backpack on the sand before I lay on the beach, the calm waves washing my feet. I felt terrible, everything hurt me, and I had water in my nose. However, I couldn’t complain, I was still alive after all.

As soon as I calmed down, adjusting myself to my current situation, I looked around, trying to spot Jungkook and our wrecked chopper. Though my sight was still blurry, either because of seawater or my tears, I could see smoke coming from the jungle.

“It was a close one,” Jungkook said as he emerged from the water and lay down next to me, trying to catch his breath after the energy-draining swim.

I was thankful that we were still alive, but when I saw Jungkook beside me, talking so casually about our near death situation, I felt rage wash through me. Before my mind could register what I was doing, I sat astride on him, violently hitting his chest with my fists.

Unfortunately, after what we experienced not that long ago, my punches weren’t as painful as I wished them to be. Without any trouble, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around my wrists, stopping my poor attempt of hurting him.

“Is your friend really harmless?” I asked him, trying not to burst into tears. I didn’t want him to think I was weak. Quite contrary, I thought I was pretty strong. However, because of him, I was caught in a life-threatening situation, and it was natural to feel so confused. “For fuck’s sake, he shot us down! What is going on, Jeon? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

“OK, maybe he doesn’t consider us friends, but in my defense, it’s unlike him to behave like that,” Jungkook said, but his explanation didn’t have any value. I still didn’t understand what the point of shooting us down was.

"You're not completely honest with me, Jungkook. This Namjoon guy wouldn't shoot down his own chopper if he was mad at you for taking it. There has to be something more to it. Tell me the truth, and don't you dare lie to me again," I demanded, and Jungkook seemed to be immersed in thought as if considering disclosing the facts to me. Although he was dubious, deep down he knew I deserved to know the truth about his conflict with Namjoon.

“So… I might’ve borrowed some money from him, and technically, I haven’t paid it off yet completely, so maybe that’s why he’s feeling a little bit angry with it.”

“Jungkook, he’s not a little bit angry, this guy almost killed us, he’s livid,” I interjected, being unable to listen to him sugarcoat things. “This is just perfect; a guy almost killed us, the chopper is a wreck, and on top of that, we are on the wrong side of the island. I shouldn’t have agreed to go with you. I felt it in my guts back then; I should’ve listened to my hunch.”

“Don’t be like that, we’ll find a way out of it,” Jungkook said, trying to cheer me up, but I wasn’t having any of that. First of all, there was no we. Secondly, the chopper crashed, so even if we found the necklace, we wouldn’t be able to escape the inhabited island.

“Yeah, of course, you’re right,” I spoke bitterly, being on the verge of hysteria. The situation was ridiculous, and although we survived the crash, we were still trapped on this island. We were alive, but it was only a matter of time. “I have an idea; I’ll go through that jungle and find that necklace. In the meantime, you can stay here on the beach and built a fucking boat for us because as far as I am concerned, there’s no other transport we can use. How about that?” I was mean, but I didn’t care. It was Jungkook’s fault; he should be the one to do the hard labor.

“Well, you don’t have to be a bitch about it,” Jungkook argued back, clenching his jaw. “Besides, I believe you said something about your crew, they’re going to get here sooner or later,” he concluded, and I wanted to slap myself.

“No, Jungkook, you’re wrong, there’s no crew,” I admitted, and Jungkook really started to panic. “I lied to you back then. It’s my solo expedition.”

“OK, so we agree we’re both to blame. Now, we have to come up with a plan,” Jungkook concluded, and with a deep sigh, I agreed. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think we should focus on finding the necklace. Once we have it, we can start thinking of an escape plan,” I suggested, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my logic.

“That sounds like a plan, but I think we should think of a way to spend the night. The sun is about to descend soon, and from what I heard the wilderness can get pretty dangerous at night,” Jungkook voiced, and I hummed in agreement.

For people who had lied to each other so many times, our dynamics were pretty synced.

“What should we do? We can stay here, or find a place to sleep somewhere in the jungle; which would be safer?” I asked him, hoping that he had a good sense of survival. I didn’t want to get eaten by a puma in my sleep, so I really hoped we could rely on Jungkook’s instincts and survival skills.

“I think we should start a fire here, and dry off first,” Jungkook said after a moment of thinking. “I have a sleeping bag in my backpack, but like all the other things inside it, it’s drenched.”

“Okay, let’s do that,” I quickly agreed with him, desperately needing some sort of heat. Naturally, I had pretty low blood pressure, and right now, I was drenched. The blowing wind didn’t help, either. “You know how to do that, right?”

“Of course, who do you take me for?” Jungkook asked me, being slightly offended with my question. “With me, you’re safe.”

Wrapping my hands around my body, I watched Jungkook work. His clothes were sticking to his muscles, and when he was carrying wood, I could admire his masculine beauty. Although Jungkook had a base of a handyman, I would never peg him as one. If anything, I’d sooner consider him to be a cunning ladies man.

“Voilà!” Jungkook exclaimed when successfully prepared the bonfire. “Come here, you must be freezing,” he added, encouraging me to have a seat beside me. Grumbling under my breath, I stood up and approached him, sitting next to him. “Have you brought anything to eat? I gotta admit, I am starving,” Jungkook asked, and I pulled out two energy bars from my backpack.

For a while, we sat in complete silence, basking in the warmth of the bonfire, and it was actually pretty pleasant, given that Jungkook was my company. I had several reasons to complain; he had lied to me and put my life in danger. However, despite all of that, I couldn't bring myself to hate him with every fiber of my body. Because he had proven himself to be useful, I only hated him to some degree.

“Tomorrow, we’re gonna have a nice trek,” Jungkook started, as he looked at me. “Do you have a map or something?”

“No, Jungkook, there’s no map. It has never been discovered; all I have is a handful of very vague clues.” I answered with a sigh. Basically, I was looking for a needle in the haystack. “Also, the clues vary based on different translations.”

“Oh,” was all he said. “Don’t lose your spirit, you will find it, and I’m gonna help you,” he added, and I cracked a faint smile. It was comforting, but I still had a few doubts haunting me.

“Thanks,” I replied, wrapping my arms around myself tighter. “Are our sleeping bags dry yet?” I asked, feeling a bit sleepy. Just like Jungkook had said, we would have a long trek tomorrow, and I wanted to be well-rested.

“I don’t know, you can check if you want,” he said, and I walked up to them.

With a quick, sharp motion, I picked the sleeping bag up, wanting to get rid of the sand. Unfortunately, when I did so, I felt something fell out of the sleeping bag, and it was a fucking snake. The second my eyes spotted the reptile, I shrieked loudly, tossed the sleeping bag aside, and ran up to Jungkook to hide behind his back.

“It’s a fucking snake! Do something!” I shouted at the top of my voice when I looked down to see the snake slowly moving towards us. “Kill it, please,” I begged him, but Jungkook only chuckled, evidently amused by my panicked outburst.

“It doesn’t seem to be venomous,” Jungkook concluded, but I had no trust in his analysis. According to what he had told me, he was a journalist – not a biologist. “It probably wants to warm up,” he added, but I wrapped my hands around his biceps, expecting him to provide me with safety. “Jesus Christ, your hands are cold,” he turned his head to look into my eyes.

“Please,” I cooed, hoping that after what we had survived together, I had an influence on his actions. “Jungkook, please, get rid of it,” I added, and Jungkook seemed to soften under my pleading gaze.

“Ugh, fine,” he spoke before he grabbed a broken branch and walked up to the snake, wanting to pick it up and take it far away from me. “It’s all done, it shouldn’t bother us again,” he explained, but I told him to check the other sleeping bag in case there was another surprise waiting for us. Thankfully, nothing else sought sanctuary in our belongings.

“Is it safe?”

“Yep, it’s absolutely reptile-free,” Jungkook said in a mocking tone, so I smacked his shoulder playfully. “If you’re afraid another snake may creep into your sleeping bag, we can share mine,” Jungkook suggested, and I actually caught myself considering his offer.

“Fine, but it’s not because I’m afraid,” I answered, and Jungkook cocked his eyebrow in curiosity. “I know I will get cold, and you’re like a portable heater, that’s why,” I explained, but it didn’t make his smug smirk disappear.

“It’s fine with me.” Jungkook smiled before he put his sleeping bag on the sand. “Come here,” he urged me, and I quickly obeyed, wanting to warm myself up. A bit too willingly, I snuggled up to Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook hissed when he felt my cold hands on his skin. “What do you think about a quickie before sleep? I don’t know about you, but I sleep like a baby after a good fuck,” he hinted, placing an inviting kiss on my neck.

“I think I’ll pass,” I answered, turning on the other side. “And FYI, I haven’t forgotten about that I almost got shot because of you.”

“You can’t blame a man for trying to be romantic,” Jungkook said, not taking my rejection personally, but I only snorted. Yeah, it was romantic as fuck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Jeon.”

***

At the crack of dawn, we woke up cuddling. Jungkook’s morning wood was digging into my back, but I couldn’t care any less. I was mad at him, and no matter how many times he would beg me to help him out, I wasn’t going to comply with his humble request. I was still mad at him for what he had put us through.

Having consumed energy bars for breakfast, we packed our things (now thankfully dry) and set off our journey. We had two possibilities; we could walk along the coast, or trek through the jungle. The decision was difficult, but after a brief discussion, we chose the shorter and more dangerous hike through the wilderness. Our food would suffice for two days tops; we didn’t have the time to take the longer route.

“How long do you think we have to walk like that?” Jungkook asked before he cut the bush in front of us with a sharp knife so we could move forward.

“According to the legend, they walked the entire night until they reached the heart of the island. Also, it was either April or May, so the trek took them about five hours.” I explained, trying to remember all the details from my report. I had it saved on my phone, but I didn’t want to stop to get it out of the zip lock bag from the very bottom of my backpack.

“And how long is it gonna take to get there from this side of the island?”

“Probably the entire day,” I answered quietly, focusing on walking and breathing. For someone with my stamina (or the lack of thereof), it was incredibly tiring, and I didn’t want to seem so weak in front of him. I was the captain of this expedition, not a thorn in Jungkook’s side. “Maybe a little less if we find a short-cut.”

“Now, that’s comforting,” Jungkook giggled, and I smiled. We were screwed; it would be a miracle if we found the necklace and made it alive. “So what you want to do when we come back to the civilization?”

“All I want to do is to lie in my bed and binge watch RuPaul’s Drag Race,” I admitted honestly, even though it might’ve sounded silly to Jungkook. “Don’t judge, it’s highly addictive.”

“I’m not judging you,” he chuckled, and I wondered if he was honest with me. “I was just asking what you’re gonna do with your discovery. If the necklace is half as important as you let it on, then I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be a headliner soon.” Jungkook elaborated, and I, being a complete idiot, blushed.

“Oh,” it’s all that left my mouth. I was shocked, for someone who could double-cross me, Jungkook appeared to be suspiciously supportive of my achievement. “Thanks, Jungkook,” I answered quietly still digesting his words. He was right; if I came back home with the necklace, it would definitely bring me lots of fame and wealth. “And what are you gonna do if we make it alive?”

“I’m not sure,” he whispered, thinking of the best way to convey his thought into words. “This journey is an once-in-a-lifetime adventure, so I’ll probably live my life peacefully, sometimes reminiscing how fun it was here with you,” Jungkook explained, and I felt funny. Yes, it was dangerous, but above all, it was incredibly exciting.

“It’s not gonna be as fun when I push in a puma’s claws, so I can run for my life,” I joked, and Jungkook chuckled, reminding me of the night we met; I had been feeling so lighthearted back then. “I’m not joking, though.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Jungkook teased, and I shook my head. We were alone in the middle of the jungle, yet we still could find some energy to bicker playfully. “You’d be scared shitless to move, let alone push me. I saw how you reacted to a harmless snake, trust me, you’re not gonna do shit,” he added, and I smacked his shoulder, acting offended.

“It’s a mistake to underestimate me,” I retorted, but Jungkook didn’t appreciate it. Instead, he only raised his hand, wanting to shush me. Cocking my eyebrow up, I eyed him, a little bit fed up with his superior attitude. “What do you –“ I started, but Jungkook quickly turned around, and cupped my mouth. Confused, I furrowed my eyebrows, looking up at him.

“Shh…” he whispered before he removed his hand from my mouth. “It appears the island isn’t completely deserted,” he commented, and I fixated my eyes on the people on the meadow just a couple meters away from us.

“Who are these people?” I asked him quietly, not expecting him to know the answer. It didn’t make any sense; where the hell did they come from? What kind of shady business were they engaging in here?

“I don’t know… maybe they’re pirates or something,” Jungkook guessed, and I just shrugged, not knowing what to say. It was a possibility. “I think we should get out of here,” he proposed, and I agreed. I didn’t want to get involved with these people; it was for the better if they didn’t know about our presence.

It was reasonable to retreat, but curiosity got the better of me. When Jungkook was cautiously backtracking, I was observing them. It bugged me that I didn’t know the reason why they were here, but when I saw one of the men carrying white packages, I regretted my actions.

They were smuggling drugs, and I was positive that I wanted to stay as far from them as it was possible. They were dangerous. Though I wasn’t entirely convinced, I believed that Namjoon didn't threat as much as they did.

“Are you going or not?” Jungkook whispered, and I immediately nodded my head, walking up to him in a hurry. Unfortunately, I didn’t watch down, so being the idiot I am, I tripped over the roots. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed when he saw me fall down, face first.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed under my breath when I realized how loud disturbance I caused. The smugglers had to be deaf to ignore such strange noises coming from the bushes. Quickly, I picked myself up and ran after Jungkook.

The men were chasing us, but we had heavy backpacks, so it was just a matter of time until they would catch us. It was just fantastic, we had survived Namjoon’s attack, yet right now, we were going to be killed by some drug smugglers.

My life was just perfect.

And all of that because I wanted to find some jewel.

Mindlessly, I ran after Jungkook. The adrenaline must’ve kicked in because I wasn’t tired at all. Furthermore, my large backpack felt like as light as a feather. In no time, I caught up with Jungkook, sprinting right next to him.

“Jungkook, look,” I said when I saw a large rock with a split in it; it looked like shelter, and we could hide away in there if we were fast enough.

“It looks like a tunnel,” Jungkook noticed when we squeezed into the chink. “Should we go further? It can be a dead end,” Jungkook asked, a bit doubtful about exploring the cave.

“Let’s go further,” I said confidently, “just in case, they find this gap,” I added, knowing it would convince him. These men meant trouble, and we both wanted to never see them again.

Cautiously, I put my backpack on the ground, looking for small LED flashlights, giving Jungkook one.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook asked, and I just shook my head, bravely going further. “Who would’ve thought that we could attract so much trouble,” Jungkook said, trying to kill the pregnant silence. We were walking for the last thirty minutes, and the exit seemed unreachable. “It’s never boring with you, is it?”

“What are you talking about? I can boldly say that you’re responsible for the eighty percent of everything bad that has happened to us,” I said with a playful smile. The only fault in my behavior was not paying attention to where I was going; the rest of our misfortune was caused by him. “Shh… I think I’ve heard something,” I shushed him quickly, sensing upcoming trouble. Perhaps, these men knew this area better. Maybe, they knew all along that we were going to hide in this cave, so they just slowed down their pace, letting us think we’re safe.

“You’re just paranoid,” Jungkook said with a shrug. “They won’t find us here in a million years,” he added jokingly, but it didn’t make me laugh. I was still anxious. “Oh,” Jungkook mused upon noticing something, “check this out,” he prompted me, flashing the light on the wall. “What can it mean?” Jungkook wondered, gawking at the strange letters.

“Jungkook, I think this is it,” I answered, having difficulties with forming words. “I think it’s Aminata’s grave,” I added, wanting to pull out my phone. I had on it copies of the most important documents on her legend as well as I had my notes of their ancient language.

“Can you read it?” Jungkook asked in curiosity, being amazed by my skills, even though I haven’t showcased them yet. “It looks weird; are they even letters?”

“They are,” I confirmed quickly, looking for the right file on my phone, determined to decrypt the message on the wall. “Can you point your flashlight at it?” I asked, and Jungkook swiftly aimed his torch at the wall, fulfilling my request.

“What does it say?”

“Well… it’s hard to translate it literally, but it basically means “who lives by the sword shall die by the sword”. It’s strange; why did they put it here? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe it doesn’t, but it surely gives me chills,” Jungkook said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Should we get back?”

Jungkook must’ve gone nuts if he thought that I’d just give up at the very finishing line. We were by the gate to Aminata’s tomb; there was no way I would just turn around and quit. I hadn’t survived all the misery to come back home empty-handed.

“No, we’re going further,” I said confidently, blowing my fringe off my forehead. “We’re close, I’m feeling it,” I added, and Jungkook sighed in doubt. “You can stay here, but I’m going.” It didn’t matter to me if Jungkook wanted to join me or not. If he didn’t feel like it, he could stay behind.

“Are you insane? I can’t let you go in there alone, I’m coming with,” he quickly said, sending me another boyish smile. Jungkook was truly endearing when he was looking out for me.

“Fine, but if you have a knife or anything that you can use as a weapon, leave it here,” I suggested, and Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? Didn’t you get the message? Don’t you know it’s better not to mess with curses? Ancient ones in particular.”

“Sure, you’re the boss here,” Jungkook voiced, hesitantly leaving all his weaponry on the ground. “Lead the way.”

Completely weaponless, we explored the cave further. It was risky as hell, but nothing inside the cave could’ve been more dangerous than the drug smugglers looking for us.

Although it felt as if we walked kilometers, I didn’t feel tired. The anticipation and excitement completely took over me, giving me the strength which I needed to fulfill my mission. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same thing about Jungkook; he was panting behind me, probably waiting for the tunnel to end.

“Shit, now I think I heard something,” Jungkook whispered, suspicious of strange sounds from within the cave. “It’s not possible, though. How the hell would they find us here?”

Though I didn’t hear anything, I wasn’t going to disregard his suspicion. It seemed highly unlikely, but we had to be prepared for the worst; especially when we were unarmed, lost somewhere in a long, dark tunnel.

“Then we can only pick up the pace, find the necklace, and hope there’s an exit on the other end of its tunnel,” I concluded, but Jungkook didn’t seem very convinced. It was evident that he didn’t fancy my plan, but currently, it was the only idea we had.

Our casual stroll quickly morphed into a swift march; it required plenty of energy, but in the face of danger, it didn’t matter. This procedure had to be done.

“Is it weird that all of this turns me on?” Jungkook commented, once again attempting to lighten up the atmosphere between us. “All I can think of right now is how I want to fuck you when we come back.”

“You better stop that train of thought and focus, Jeon. We have a job to do, please focus,” I scolded him, and Jungkook, with a quiet whine, composed himself. “Really, Jungkook, you can’t keep it in your– aaah” I screamed when I lost my footing, falling into an abyss.

Two-meter deep abyss – still an abyss.

“Shit, are you okay?” Jungkook asked me, now not caring about his volume. If someone were actually on our tail, there was no way they wouldn’t hear my pathetic scream.

“Yep, I’m okay, although all in the dust,” I said when I realized I was lying in a pile of dust and whatnot. “Well… I hope it’s only dust,” I added before I began sweeping the dust off of me.

“Move aside, I’m coming in,” Jungkook warmed me before he jumped into the hole. “Do you think it’s the tomb?” He asked, and I looked around, studying my surroundings.

The pit looked simple. Rocks on the left, rocks on the right; no diamonds, no gold.

Well, except for one beautiful necklace sitting on a handful of tiny bones – which must’ve been Yaya’s phalanges.

“OMG, there it is, can you believe it?” I asked Jungkook when I ran up to the necklace, admiring its timeless beauty. It looked even better than I had imagined. Regardless of ornate words used to write these legends, nothing could convey its elegance.

“What I really can’t believe is that you used the abbreviation in an oral conversation,” Jungkook retorted, but I dismissed his rejoinder. The object of my research was within my reach, I couldn’t pay less attention to my annoying sidekick and his quips.

Just before I touched the necklace, I heard a bullet ricocheting against the walls of the cave.

“These fools,” I spoke, remembering the strange writing on the wall. “It’s not good,” I mentioned to Jungkook right before a few smugglers jumped into the hole, pointing their guns at us.

They were giving us some orders, but neither of us could comprehend what they wanted us to do. Based on their intonation I could only theorize the meaning behind their words. On the other hand, when one man’s gun pointed at me and then slightly tilted it in the direction of the necklace, it was actually pretty self-explanatory.

Despite the direct message, none of us moved an inch. Jungkook and I were stubborn, unwilling to cooperate. Maybe, someone would admire our courage, but most people would call us stupid.

The tallest of the smugglers wasn’t having it; he was sick and tired of our attitude. Staring into my eyes, he raised his gun, aiming at my head. It was perfect; after all I had experienced, it was how I was going to die.

Whispering something chilling, he pulled the trigger, whereas I, expecting to get shot, closed my eyes. Suspecting these milliseconds to stretch into hours, I anticipated the impact. It never came, though. Time passed, yet I didn’t feel anything.

Then, I opened my eyes and saw the man drop on the ground. He had a clear shot, yet he missed, and the bullet ricocheted and went right through his forehead. What the fuck? A few laws of physics must’ve been broken for it to happen.

“That explains the quote on the wall,” Jungkook stated when he slightly leaned toward me, taking advantage of the smugglers’ disorientation. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It depends; are you wondering what Indiana Jones would do in this situation?” I answered, still unable to process what just happened to that man.

“Well… kinda.” Jungkook shrugged. “Take that necklace and let’s get the hell out of here,” he proposed, and I nodded my head, mindlessly following his suggestion.

It was unreasonable; as long as Jungkook and I were in the cave, we were safe. They couldn’t hurt us with their weapon. On the other hand, if we were outside, nothing could stop them from shooting us down. Unfortunately, due all that accumulated stress and panic, my mind didn’t function properly.

Quickly, I grabbed the necklace and ran after Jungkook.

At the same time, the smugglers fixated their eyes on me, blocking my way to the entrance. Each of them stared into my eyes with what seemed admiration? With each passing second, I could comprehend less and less.

What the hell happened this time around?

On cue, the smugglers kneeled before me.

“It starts to get really creepy,” said Jungkook upon seeing the strange behavior. “Care to explain what you’ve done to them?” Jungkook urged me, but I was lost for words. He demanded an answer, and I wished to have one.

“How should I know; I’m absolutely clueless,” I whispered, still in confusion. The smugglers behaved as if they were infatuated zombies. And then it hit me. “No, it’s not possible,” I muttered to myself, unable to fully wrap my head around it.

“Can you enlighten me? What is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Jungkook said something, but to me, it was all white noise.

My theory didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be possible that everything is valid. Magic is a myth; it was crazy. I couldn’t control their behavior with that necklace. And even if I could, how come Jungkook seemed resistant to it?

According to the legend, every man who took a glimpse of Aminata felt a strong desire to worship her. Men were literally falling to her feet; all men – no exceptions. It just couldn’t be happening to me, it just couldn’t.

Jungkook, still unfazed – exhibit A.

“Stand up,” I ordered them, and although they hadn’t spoken English before, they perfectly understood me. “Help me get out of the hole,” I added, and they obediently positioned themselves directly under the hole, ready to pick me up.

“What the hell is going on?” Jungkook asked, blinking swiftly, trying to grasp the current situation. How did they, in a matter of seconds, turn from shooters to butlers?

“No time to talk, let’s get the hell out of here,” I commanded before I started to run away outside, not even waiting for Jungkook to follow me. I wanted to feel the fresh air as soon as it was possible, and I didn’t care if Jungkook thought the same.

Whatever happened in the tomb, it was too much to take in, and I needed time and space to digest it; preferably, in a four-star hotel, sipping my fourth mimosa. Yep, that sounded like a perfect plan.

The distance seemed shorter when we were going out of the cave. One moment I was controlling zombie-smugglers, while the other I was basking in the sunlight.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook asked when we sat down on the ground, panting while I took an empty ziplock bag and put the necklace in it. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he added, and I just shrugged, not knowing how to explain it, especially when I wasn’t sure about it either.

“I have no idea.” I sat beside him, pulling out a bottle of water, taking a few gulps of it. “Shit, there are more of them,” I pinpointed when I saw a few men running in our direction. “And they don’t seem to be enchanted like the ones in the cave.”

“Holy shit, when will this day be over?” Jungkook cursed, jumping to his feet. “And they aren’t alone, look there,” he added, pointing his finger to the left. “Oh my God, I don’t fucking believe it.”

“What?” I asked, once again being completely clueless.

“It’s Namjoon and his crew.”

Fuck. What else was going to hunt us? Aliens?

“What are we doing now?”

“Let’s split,” Jungkook proposed, and I couldn’t say I liked that idea. “I’ll go this way, and you go that way. We will meet by the chopper wrack. Once we lose them, we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do next, okay?”

I wasn’t okay, but we didn’t have time to strategize a better plan.

“Okay,” I answered, and Jungkook pulled me closer, giving me a kiss. This act surprised me, but I didn’t hate it. It was somewhat adorable. “Good luck,” I quickly added before we ran away separate ways.

Not looking backward, I sprinted as fast as I could. Adrenaline-driven, I really felt as if I was breaking some records. Unfortunately, it seemed to be only a figment of my imagination.

Not even twenty minutes later, I was surrounded by six pissed off smugglers. Due to our snooping, they must’ve lost almost an entire day of loading their shipments. Although I was scared shitless, they seemed to be pleased to catch me.

It was pointless to run at this point, so I decided to check if the trick with the necklace would work in this situation too. All of the men were looking at me, wondering what I was doing. In a desperate attempt, I put off my backpack and opened the pocket where I had hidden the necklace. Much to my surprise, it was gone.

“That motherfucker,” I whispered, furious at Jungkook for double-crossing me like that.

______

Sometime this week, I will post the second (final) part to it. Stay tuned!

#jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jungkook scenartio #jeongguk scenario #jungkook fanfition #bts fanfiction #jungkook angst #jeongguk angst #bts angst #namjoon cameo #namjoon #bangtan smut #bangtan story #bangtan fanfiction

[danwhobrowses]

Why Star Wars: The Last Jedi Deserves More Respect

So after a handful of posts I think it’s time to bring back this one, the conflict was that I was considering reviews for Pokémon Sword and Shield as well as a review for Rise of Skywalker, but the latter made me think that this is an opportune moment to talk about the previous entry.  Like The Last Jedi, Rise of Skywalker has had divisive opinions, frankly I liked the film but I think TLJ was the best of the sequel trilogy, and I am going to explain why

Fair Warning, within this there’s gonna be spoilers for Rise of Skywalker, possibly Mandalorian, maybe Solo and definitely The Last Jedi...this will also be very long

So I know straight away that this is gonna get heat, there has been constant times where me saying that I liked TLJ has been considered trolling or ‘bait’, honestly I find myself baffled that people can hate it so vehemently, believing that the story is and I quote ‘the worst sequel ever’. While it is clear that Johnson had a different vision to Abrams, that was not a bad thing, a lot of the criticism the film gets are quite hypocritical in contrast to the Original Trilogy which is held to so much esteem, so to start I’m going to break that down. Small Disclaimer before I do: People are allowed to dislike things, not saying that if you do dislike it you are doing something wrong, just pointing out that it’s not wrong to like the film either. Disowning before Watching The first thing I think turned people off of TLJ was the interview Mark Hamill had before the film came out, people misconceiving his comments that it’s not the journey he expected seeing of Luke to mean that this is not a film he would approve of. The same almost happened with RoS with Abrams comment which was abridged to imply that Abrams disowned TLJ as well - he did not - but in a society where we want to home in on flaws and criticize before even seeing that was too wide a door left open. So without fault, TLJ already had a group of people set on disliking the film because it would be different to how they and Hamill wanted it to be and because it’s not exactly like the decanonized ‘Legends’ continuity - despite people being fine that Jacen Solo and Ben Skywalker had been merged to make Kylo Ren in The Force Awakens. It’s easy to point out that if you go into something adamant to dislike you’re going to get your wish, so the first point of order is to give something a chance to impress you, you can’t criticize something because an actor didn’t think it’d go that creative direction, Hamill did not hate this movie and people disliking their content does not automatically make it bad, Stannis from GoT hated the show, Alan Moore hates everything but that doesn’t mean Watchmen was bad, the actors for C3PO and R2-D2 hated each other but that doesn’t mean that when they acted their bond wasn’t great.

The ‘Luke is not Luke’ Criticism Hamill’s comments ease nicely into one of the main critiques that fans felt that Luke was not the same character he was in Return of the Jedi. People criticized his disconnection from the force which included tossing his lightsaber away in the opening scene, the Rashomon sequence where Luke considered striking down his own nephew - a move that ultimately turned Ben to the Dark, drinking green milk and that his last stand was a projection rather than a solid encounter. You know what I say to those criticisms?

They are bollocks, absolute nonsensical criticisms made to try and dismantle the best character of the movie. Hamill delivers his best for Luke in TLJ and his character arc is brilliant. I watched Blind Wave (a great youtube reactor channel) react to TLJ and the members noted how it was great that Luke had a character arc, something I wholly agree with. Luke was around 23 in Return of the Jedi (since the galaxy uses the standardized dating of Coruscant which has the most earth-like cycle), if you expect a 23 year old to have no room left to grow in the next 30 years of his life then I don’t think anything’s gonna get through to you, Luke is meant to be different, because since Jedi a lot of shit has happened. Luke’s discarding of the lightsaber shows his disconnect with the Force, something that had allowed the First Order to paint him as a myth and rendered everyone near-unable to find him, only tracked by the galactic map to Ahch-To from his past days of discovering remnants of Jedi past. Next let’s bring down the Rashomon sequence, the 3 tales of Ben’s turning. Initially, Luke painted a picture that he sensed that the darkness was too late, Ben woke and attacked him. Later Ben paints that Luke is lying, and that when Ben awoke Luke was there with his Lightsaber drawn with intent to kill him. The third story admits that both are correct, Luke drew his lightsaber in sensing the darkness, and Ben awoke to see it and retaliated.

This story peeves people mainly because they say that in Jedi ‘Luke was willing to fight for a single hope of light in his Father but was willing to kill his nephew for a bad dream’. A ridiculous comment that waters down and ignores the bigger picture though. For one, while Luke wanted to save his father and sensed good in him, he still ended up cutting his dad’s hand off, the indication that much like his father Luke - as he had always been in the Original Trilogy - was still susceptible to his emotions, including the negative ones. The other reason this statement is foolhardy is because they don’t listen to Luke’s narration, where he explains that it was a fleeting moment of panic and arrogance, his ego as ‘Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master’ took over when he sensed that Ben was already turned by Snoke, and it was only for a split second which he immediately regrets. It’s this moment that snowballs into why Luke disconnects himself from the force, his ego as a saviour to Jedi led to the downfall of his nephew - which led to his best friend and sister separating, the rise of the First Order being like a second Empire and the massacre of most of his other jedi students, he realised that this was the same ego that led to the previous Jedi’s downfall to Vader and Sidious and thus came to the conclusion that maybe the Jedi way is not the right way. Not only is this a brilliantly done tragedy for the character but it’s a progression that identifies with public opinion of jedi ways and the pompousness that led to Anakin’s turn to the dark side as depicted in the prequels. The use of Rashomon also connects to the Jedi/Sith connections to Samurai which was a great touch by Johnson. The green milk scene was a weird one I’ve seen being criticized, like people are fine with Calamarian fishmen but a Tatooine/Naboo humanoid can’t drink green milk? I think I need to remind you that Luke drinks blue milk on Tatooine, he is a moisture farmer as well, the ‘green milk’ scene was a depiction of how Luke survived on Ahch-To as Rey followed him, his lifestyle disconnected from the force as he lived as basically a farm boy. I don’t know why people got so mad about the colour of milk but you can’t expect those nuns to have fed him roast porgs every day The final criticism is his last stand, something I will touch on a bit later as well. In terms of Luke, people were disappointed that it wasn’t Luke actually there and while yes it would’ve been great to watch Luke tear down AT-ATs luke the EU, but he literally says that he won’t do that

it’s not a matter of can’t, it’s a matter of him strutting up to the army of the First Order will not end the war, most people don’t even know if he exists. Showing up will have inspired the resistance yes but if Luke was shown killed or captured that hope would then be instantly diminished, and Snoke and Ren would definitely be going for Luke’s head to make that so. This is why Luke goes via projection, instead of his ragged hermit self where he’d likely die similarly to how Kenobi did, he demonstrates a highly advanced force power to display himself as a clean-cut warrior who shrugs off the full might of the First Order’s arsenal and humiliates its brand new Supreme Leader, while disappearing. That stand does the Resistance far better than him showing up in person, because now the legend of Luke Skywalker lives longer than he does, he inspires a new wave of Jedi who understand his sacrifice and rebels who have just seen how one man can expose the weakness of the First Order. Luke’s last living gesture is one that inspires hope, before he becomes one with the Force at peace. If anything that is as beautiful as it is tragic of an end for Luke, but by no means is that bad. The Rose Tico ‘Issue’ Luke wasn’t the only character to get on the wrong side of criticism, undoubtedly Kelly Marie Tran got it the worst. Despicable people flocked to harass her over her character, throwing about racism just for that added content of being a horrid human being. Her character, Rose Tico, was a newly introduced character from the Resistance who joins Finn and Poe’s arcs, her main non-racist criticism is her act of saving Finn from the Laser Battering Ram ‘She has this stupid speech about saving people with love while a laser battering ram breaks down the door to kill a bunch of people’ A common theme seems to be that people are taking things the absolute wrong way. Rose’s journey with Finn is an interesting arc where she seeks to make sure her sister’s sacrifice - caused by Poe’s rash personality - is not in vain while accompanying a ‘hero of the resistance’, what she is unaware of is how her assistance relates to Finn’s journey as he tries to live up to the esteem she sees him in, he had always considered himself a defector rather than a rebel. Rose (and DJ) open his eyes to a reality that not everything is black and white, he left the First Order in TFA because he believed that they were ‘wrong’ and so by default the resistance had to be ‘right’ but TLJ challenged Finn to see both sides and make a choice for himself, a choice that is made thanks to Rose. However, his embrace of being a rebel is why he is adamant to try and sacrifice himself for the laser battering ram. I have to point out that until Rose stepped in I thought Finn was gonna die, I thought it really ballsy and a little disappointing that they were gonna kill him off, I also knew that the ship would not stop the battering ram so it was actually a relief that Rose did save him.

I think people dislike it for that reason though, they felt that Finn dying would’ve been a more shocking narrative turn and because Rose saved him she is to ‘blame’, I also believe that people didn’t like the relationship because Finn was clearly still on Rey and not everyone was on the Reylo boat or it got in the way of FinnPoe being more than just a bromance (side note, at the start of RoS I thought they were sailing on the ReyPoe for a moment, though I’m not mad about how they went), but again, that shouldn’t be the fault of Rose’s character. Rose clearly was inspired by Finn’s reputation and grew fond of his personality the more time she spent with him, likewise Finn found himself wanting to earn her esteem and taking care of her, it’s actually a shame that Rose’s role gets heavily reduced in RoS, because I do feel like Rose could’ve filled Jannah’s role (nothing against Jannah or Naomi Ackie of course) with the Canto Bight horse-things instead of the Kef Bir horse-things. So to conclude this section, Rose was good in this film, she served a purpose to grow Finn as a character and most constructive criticisms against her revolve around things either out of her control as a character or without would diminish her character role completely. The Communication Issue between Holdo and Poe Alright, let’s throw some hands up before I rub them together. I agree that Holdo should’ve told people the plan, I do dislike it when a movie creates conflict made by a lack of communication. But, he will say rubbing his hands together, this does not ruin the film. It’s worth reminding that Poe is recently demoted for reckless behaviour, the Resistance’s entire offensive fleet was destroyed due to Poe wanting to destroy one Dreadnought Ship. A reasonable punishment for Poe on his arc to realise that being a leader is more than just winning a battle, but more on that later. So Holdo comes in, new squadron she barely knows because she’s taking over for Leia, she has a plan that she and Leia know but are the only living members who know now. So why doesn’t she tell Poe? It’s quite simple, not only does the novel imply that she’s figuring out if there’s a mole - which is understandable because the First Order must’ve watched Star Trek: Into Darkness and thought ‘hey we could track ships in hyperspeed too!’ - but she’s also trying to enforce Leia’s punishment to Poe. Poe is in this shit because he refused to listen to orders, so Holdo is basically telling Poe to listen to orders, something he refuses to do and starts a mutiny. It is frustrating yes and we side with Poe because he’s the more familiar character, but had Poe just proved himself a trustworthy person who is learning from Leia’s last decree before she went into a coma she would’ve told him. This also transitions nicely into the next criticism people have Canto Bight and the Cryptographer Goose-Chase Poe’s plans of mutiny starts with sending Rose and Finn to Canto Bight, at the behest of the massively underused Maz Kanata, to find a Cryptographer so that they could disable the hyperspace tracker. People hate this scene mainly because it segue’s from the plot, it’s high on CGI and reminds them of the Prequel Trilogy

Now I can’t really contest the CGI but it was nothing bad, CGI still gets used well and the visit to the Casino aided in time for Rose and Finn to establish a relationship, have some lightheated BB-8 moments, introduce DJ the speech impediment ‘wrong hacker’ and continue to drive the shades of grey theme Finn is about to learn about. People never seem to criticize that they put their faith in the wrong guy because it leads to a more interesting conflict, so it’s strange that they hate this transition so much. The Brevity of Snoke and Phasma Two characters introduced that promised to be big deals were killed off in The Last Jedi, the nature of them both was a brave scene that many felt dropped the ball on these characters. And while I am inclined to agree on Phasma at least, Snoke’s death was actually a great turn. Before RoS we were none the wiser on who Snoke was, now we’ve seen it we know that he was basically a mass-produced puppet by the emperor...not the best of closures I’d admit but the anger towards Snoke being killed off is actually hypocritical ‘All Snoke does is sit in his chair and die’ You know who else sat in his chair and ‘died’, ol’ Sheev Palpatine. People are quick to criticize that Snoke was hyped up but barely got to show anything when Palpatine only really demonstrated the force twice in the Original trilogy before being thrown into a pit of apparent death, we allowed the Emperor a pass because we learned more about him through novels and future movies, and that’s something we eventually find out from Snoke as well.

Captain Phasma on the other hand was a sad disappointment, after one brush with death already she returned to basically be killed off again as a symbol of Finn shedding his ties as an ex-stormtrooper and embracing the role of a rebel. This is not really the fault of Johnson though, everyone seems to be more content with the alternate scene where Finn exposes Phasma’s actions for TFA, but that was a choice from the cutting room. While we can be disappointed that Phasma didn’t leave enough of a mark on the trilogy, we can always hope for prequel stuff as we had with Boba Fett, an equally wasted character in his main trilogy who could theoretically be in The Mandalorian (only a theory, nothing is concrete), but if we are willing to love the Original Trilogy despite similar issues we hate on TLJ for then aren’t we being hypocrites? tHaT’s nOt HoW tHe FoRcE wOrKs If you try to pick on Rian Johnson for ‘not getting Star Wars’ directly you would be in for a world of punishment. Two major force powers that get used in The Last Jedi is the ‘Force Skype’ and Force Projection, however both are basically using the same techniques, one is connecting minds while the other is connecting one mind to an individual place. It’s immediately told to us that this is an advanced technique but this is not something Johnson has made up. In the EU this ability is called Simifuturus or just Doppelganger, practiced by Luke, Dooku and Yarael Poof. Rey and Ben’s Force Skype is also used in the EU called Force Bond, Chain or Jedi Kinship, the ability had been fine in beloved Star Wars games Knights of the Old Republic I & II, the Clone Wars and Rebels series and aplenty of novels. For the legitimacy of these abilities cannot be contested. The fact that the ability kills Luke shouldn’t be criticized either, Luke is projecting himself light years away on Crait, with a copy of Han’s dice in a much more polished form, he physically interacts with Leia and takes on a barrage of AT-M6 blasters - turbolasers that can destroy speeders and ships with one hit - and two lightsaber slices, remember Ben felt the impact from Rey’s blaster on their first Force Skype, so Luke carried the feeling of all that damage and strain on his body and maintained his projection. So not only did Luke’s dying moments lead to an incredible display of using the Force but also one that forced him to sustain an immeasurable amount of damage and still manage to bide the resistance time to escape. Leia Poppins Ah yes, the Mary Poppins moment. I dunno how I can explain this one so easily but how about this. Leia is force sensitive, we have known this since Jedi, so to see Leia use the force was a massive moment, but she’s floating in the vacuum of space so there is no ‘up’ she is basically pulling a heavier object than herself in a vacuum, using it as an anchor so she can get to a blast door. As to why she survives in space, you can survive up to 2 minutes in space without a helmet, it is horribly painful though, it’s also worth reminding that Leia is not a human like you or me and if the Force can heal (as shown in The Mandalorian and RoS) then why can’t it keep Leia alive a bit longer in Space? She ends up in a coma anyway so I don’t see why complaints are rife here, she survives barely and it’s not like they knew Carrie was going to die sometime after the film was completed, they obviously had more plans for her so it would’ve been wrong to kill her off there when we were already killing Luke off. Did Disney Ruin Star Wars? This is a statement I’ve heard a lot in regards to TLJ, Solo and RoS, which is weird though, people were fine with Disney doing TFA, Rogue One and The Mandalorian, Mando’s journey with Baby Yoda proving that the utility of fanservice - something the trio get loathed for - can be enjoyable and it bodes well that the director of some episodes is doing an Obi Wan film. The phrase ‘Star Wars Fatigue’ also came about from post-Solo reviews, which I have expressed is dumb because MCU do 3 marvel movies minimum a year. But the reason Solo got low box office figures wasn’t because it was bad, it’s because it was released around the same time as Deadpool 2, it was left to the sharks without a chance to succeed. So no, Disney have not ruined Star Wars, if anything fan perception has damaged the franchise with people hating it because it’s not the Original Trilogy or it’s too much like the Original Trilogy, the same can be said for the EU. RoS is quite similar to Dark Empire but because Disney retconned most of the EU it’s the enemy, but let’s be honest, does anyone want the continuity to be that Chewie gets blown up? I doubt that. So WHY does The Last Jedi deserve more respect I think the mixed reviews of Rise of Skywalker has proved that maybe TLJ got a harsh end of a stick, even with Abrams’ vision back at the helm the film proved to be divisive and personally quite safe. This is probably why I liked TLJ the most, Johnson went to challenge things and build off of the previous movies as a whole, nothing really was safe, it took narrative risks that opened the door to a lot more things.

We explored Rey’s connection to the force and her desires for answers being unable to be sated by it because she’s expecting more from her level of learning, we also have Snoke’s gambit to bond Ben and Rey together to strengthen both, Ben strengthens into a more mature state but continues to conflict in a less whiny way, even relenting from trying to kill his mother. We also got some ‘reverse Jedi’ stuff with both Ben and Rey adamant that the other will turn but instead of turning one another, Ben’s hatred however proves too great for Rey to accompany him which leads to Ben getting a villain promotion to Supreme Leader. We have a solid arc for Finn, Luke and Poe as he finally learns to take care of others, because as Rose was saying, sacrificing yourself is not going to beat the First Order, heroes are great but dead heroes win nothing, protecting others is the essence of the Resistance and that’s what a leader is meant to do. Hell, we even get a little Hux stuff, the way he slowly considers shooting Kylo Ren while he’s down and his constant abuse culminating in the rather obvious RoS reveal that he’s the spy. Unlike RoS, TLJ thrived on giving every major character worthwhile arcs like these which all ended up entwining in the climactic showdown, while tertiary characters did end up getting underused there were still windows for them to do more in the next episode which was taken out of Johnson’s hands, but he laid a lot of groundwork for the story to be taken multiple directions, which is actually quite difficult when you’re midway through a trilogy and on the 8th outing of a saga. In addition, the film provided Hamill’s best performance as Luke Skywalker, giving him a fitting end to his journey which explored almost every dimension of a Jedi’s character; training, temptation, losing faith and redemption.

I also loved how Johnson described the Force in TLJ, it wasn’t about Dark or Light, the Force was the Force, an energy that flows through all that is harnessed by the force sensitive, even Force Ghosts. And using the Puppet Yoda was a great and fun addition, and it makes sense that he can fire lightning, because Force Ghosts are one with the Force, they flow with the flow of nature. We got lore and demonstration of great powers that made the ‘holy shit’ moment of Kylo Ren stopping a blaster shot mid-flow look like novice work. And while we’re talking about ‘holy shit’ moments

You cannot deny that TLJ had some absolutely breathtaking visuals, moments in this film are some of the best moments in Star Wars, a combination of intensity and hype from Luke’s standoff with the First Order to Holdo’s hyperspace ram, Ahch-To’s real-life setting was also beautiful as were the design of Crait from its Icicle foxes to its salt speeders leaving a red path of smoke

This film looks beautiful and the story is multilayered with character development, worldbuilding, good action and gutsy plot twists, you know everything people (rightfully) praise The Mandalorian for. It’s definitely not a film where you’d find yourself bored and when you set aside your fan theories and the illusion that the Original Trilogy was Flawless save for the Death Star plot hole you will find this movie a lot more enjoyable. Now I don’t want people saying it’s a ‘Don’t Question, Consume’ sorta thing, it’s a matter of accepting that there are flaws but not allowing it to ruin the experience, because The Last Jedi embodies a lot of the essence of Star Wars old and new, it is probably the best that the New Trilogy has provided and it is certainly worthy of respect.

#star wars #star wars spoilers #star wars the last jedi #the last jedi #luke skywalker #princess leia #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #snoke #supreme leader snoke #poe #poe dameron #rose tico #rian johnson

[tipsycad147]

Legend of the Decent of Inanna

Inanna’s most important myth begins with the great goddess opening “her ear to the Great Below”.  She abandons her temples in the seven cities of her worship, abandons, in fact, all of the glories of heaven and earth, and prepares to make the journey “from which no traveller returns”.  She gathers together seven attributes of civilisation, which she transforms into such feminine allure as her crown, gold jewellery, and royal robe to serve as her protection.  She also instructs her faithful servant, Ninshubur, what to do in case of her return -- to seek out her fathers, urging them not to let their daughter die.          

Arriving at the outer gates of the Underworld, she announces herself as “Inanna, Queen of Heaven, on my way to the East.”  Neti, the chief gatekeeper of the underworld, is skeptical and questions her further.  Whereupon, Inanna replies that she wished to descend because of her older sister, Ereshkigal, and to witness the funeral rites of Ereshkigal’s husband, Gugalanna.  Neti is still uncertain and tells Inanna to wait, while he delivers her message to his queen.          

When Neti tells his queen, Ereshkigal, of the glorious Inanna at the palace gates, robed in the seven attributes of her feminine allure, Ereshkigal is enraged.  After dwelling on the news, she tells Neti to bolt the seven gates of the underworld, and then, one by one, open each gate a crack, let Inanna enter, and as she does, remove her royal garments, one by one.  Ereshkigal also tells Neti to “Let the holy priestess of heaven enter bowed low.”          

Neti does as he is told, bolting the seven gates of the underworld and then allowing Inanna to enter through each gate.  As she does, he removes one of her garments, beginning with her crown, then her earrings of small lapis beads, the double strand of beads about her neck, her breastplate called, “Come, man, come”, her golden hip girdle, the lapis measuring rod and line in her hand, and finally her royal breechcloth.  Each time, when Inanna asks, “What is this?”, Neti answers:  “Quiet Inanna, the ways of the Underworld are perfect.  They may not be questioned.”          

Then, naked and bowed low, Inanna enters the throne room.  Ereshkigal rises from her throne, as Inanna starts toward her.  The Annuna, the judges of the underworld, surround Inanna and pass judgement against her.  Ereshkigal fastens on Inanna the eyes of death, speaks against her the word of wrath, utters against her the cry of guilt, and strikes her.  Inanna is turned into a corpse, a piece of rotting meat, and hung from a hook on the wall.          

After three days and nights, when Inanna has not returned, Ninshubur begins to lament and beat the drum for Inanna.  She goes to Inanna’s paternal grandfather, Enlil, and then to Inanna's father, pleading with each of them not to let their daughter be put to death in the underworld.  But both are angry at Inanna for her actions and refuse to help.

Then Ninshubur goes to Enki, Inanna's mother’s father, begging for help.  Enki, however, is troubled and grieved for Inanna.  To save her, Enki creates two creatures, the kurgarra and the galatur, to whom he gives the food and water of life, and instructs them to enter the underworld like flies.  He tells them that Ereshkigal will be moaning with the cries of a woman about to give birth, complaining of her inside and her outside, and that they are to echo her cries.  This would please her, and she would offer them gifts.  They were to ask her only for the corpse hanging on the wall.  Then when they had sprinkled the food and water of life on Innana, she would rise.  

The kurgarra and the galatur heed Enki’s words and enter the underworld like flies.  Ereshkigal is moaning as if about to give birth.  She complains of her inside and outside, her back, heart and liver; and each time the kurgarra and the galatur echo her pain.  When Ereshkigal stops to look at them, she asks who they were and why they are moaning with her.  She offers her blessings: first the water gift, the river in its fullness, and then the grain-gift, the fields in harvest; but each time the kurgarra and the galatur decline the gift.  When Ereshkigal asks them what they do want, they ask for the corpse hanging on the hook.  Ereshkigal gives them the corpse, whereupon they sprinkle the food and water of life on Inanna, and she rises.          

Inanna is about to ascend from the underworld when the Annuna seize her and tell her she must provide someone in her place.  They send with Inanna, the galla, the demons of the underworld, who cling to her side until she chooses the person who will take her place.          

As Inanna exits the palace gates, with the galla, Ninshubur, dressed in soiled sackcloth, throws herself at Inanna’s feet.  The galla are willing to take Ninshubur, but Inanna refuses, well aware of Ninshubur’s support and her part in rescuing her.  Inanna also refuses to send her sons, who had also mourned her death.  But when Inanna arrives in Uruk and finds her husband, Dumuzi sitting on his throne, dressed in his finest, and seemingly oblivious to her absence, Inanna tells the galla to take Dumuzi away.          

Dumuzi tries to escape by having the god, Utu, change him into a snake, and then into a gazelle.  But each time, the galla find him.  Dumuzi’s sister, Geshtinanna, tries to protect her brother, even under torture by the galla, but to no avail.  Eventually, Dumuzi is betrayed by a friend, whom the galla bribe with the water-gift and the grain-gift.          

Geshtinanna, mourning for her brother, cries out that she would share his fate.  Inanna, moved by such grief and self-sacrifice, intervenes and decrees that Dumuzi and Geshtianna will each go to the underworld for half the year, and that each will spend half the year in the world above.  Both of them, Inanna places in the hands of the eternal, making them immortal.  The myth ends with praises being sung to Holy Ereshkigal.  

Inanna's Song of Power (this is not the complete text) My father gave me the heavens, gave me the earth, I am Inanna! Kingship he gave me, queenship he gave me, waging of battle he gave me, the attack he gave me, the floodstorm he gave me, the hurricane he gave me! The heavens he set as a crown on my head, the earth he set as sandals on my feet, a holy robe he wrapped around my body, a holy sceptre he placed in my hand. The gods are sparrows -- I am a falcon; the Anunnaki trundle along -- I am a splendid wild cow; I am father Enlil's splendid wild cow, The Treasures of Darkness. Thorkild Jacobsen, p. 138.

http://sacredwicca.jigsy.com/the-decent-of-inanna

[pd-west-blog]

Blog 3: Arthur As King

I would like Arthur as a King. However, I feel as though I am unduly biased towards him because he serves as the protagonist in the tale. He is the epitome of a tragic character. His life’s work falls apart before him as his story comes to a close. He gave up the people he loved the most to protect his ideal of justice, and then watched as his attempt to create a just world come crashing down. However, despite his tragic ending, Arthur is admirable. Arthur in almost every instance put his country’s needs above his own, ruled with immense patience, and ultimately had the balls to realize where his downfalls were. I believe these characteristics made him a great king. 

Arthur’s life’s work was his country. In the second two books of “The sword and the Stone” we rarely hear about Arthur’s personal life. Instead the story is told through the stories of his subjects. The feelings and emotions of others are represented more than Arthur’s own. When the story speaks from Arthur’s perspective it is almost solely about his thoughts on his country and his knights. This creates the impression that above all he is a king for his people. Arthur, though human, avoids intertwining himself in personal affairs. This is seen in his choice to be ignorant of Lancelot and the queen’s affair. Whether or not he is offended by the affair is unclear, but it is irrelevant to the future of his country (until the ending of the story), and as such he does not involve himself in it. Perhaps he sees that Lancelot is a great commander and his queen is a good queen, as such, disgracing them would be neglectful to the prosperity of his country. As a leader this dis-involvement with personal affairs is a great attribute, though it may be detrimental to his own happiness. But personal and professional almost always have a way of conflicting, and a King who can always make a choice for his country rather than himself is probably a better king. At the end of the tale, despite his efforts to prevent this course of action, he is forced to sacrifices his friend, Lancelot, and his wife, Guinevere. He does this as it is required to preserve the justice he created. This shows that he puts his duties as king above all else.

An excerpt from Myth and National Identity in Nineteenth-Century Britain: The Legends of King Arthur and Robin Hood by Stephanie Barczewski describes King Arthur as he is in The poem “King Arthur” by Edward Bulwer Lytton written in 1849. In this poem Arthur is given three visions and asked to choose between them. Ultimately he choose one in which he is dead in a battle field, but Queen Victoria reigns over England. 

Mild, like all strength sits Crowned Liberty,

Wearing the aspects of a Youthful Queen: 

and far outstretch’d ‘long the unmeasured sea

Rest the vast shadow of her throne; serene

From the dumb icebergs to the fiery zone

Rest the vast shadow of that Guardian throne

Arthur, in this poem, is dedicated to a better future, and is willing to give his life for that. He has a cause greater than himself and that allows him to be a selfless and great leader. 

Arthur is extremely patient. He is never hasty in his decisions, and is devoted to understanding and empathizing with his people, even when they are opposing him. This characteristic, when he takes it too far with Mordred, ultimately leads to his downfall.  Arthur entrusts his Kingdom to Mordred, his bastard son, refusing to see the evil in him. He is betrayed. When the Queen speaks to Mordred asking him to have mercy she says “He was saying how he (Arthur) loved you only a day or two before this misery began”(T.H. White). Mordred, however, appears to hate him. This exemplifies Arthur’s desire to see the good in people despite the challenge of it and the patience he employs to do this. Arthur when speaking to his knights acts as a senior advisor, but is empathetic to their situations.

“Aglovale, you have every right to try for revenge against the Orkneys, and I will not stop you if you if you do try. But I want you to know what you are doing…The Orkneys killed your father and brother. Now you are going to kill some Orkneys, and Gawaine and his sons will kill your sons(T.H. White)”.

This conversation, similar to many others that Arthur engages in, it is representative of his patience and his desire for reason. He is not tyrannical. He appeals to people logically, and gives his reason for how he should like things to be done. This not only allows for his subjects to have a voice, but allows him to engage with his subjects and understand why the are acting as they are. This mutual understanding is crucial to a well run kingdom.

Arthur realizes his flaws. It may have been to late for him, his life may have ended tragically. However, in the end he was devoted to figuring out what when wrong, and changing it.  Arthur when speaking to Lancelot towards the end of book three of the “The Sword in the Stone” says this:

“When I started the Table, it was to stop anarchy. It was a channel for brute force, so that the people who had to use force could be made to do so in a useful way…It was a mistake because the table itself was founded on force. Right must be established by right (T.H. White)”.

Arthur is a critical thinker in his speech. He is able a willing to see what is wrong, even if it is by his own hand. Furthermore he is dedicated to fixing it. This is seen in the final stage of the story when he asks his page, Tom Newbold, not to fight in what he assumes will be his last battle.

“This page was called young Tom of Newbold Revell near Warwick, and the old king set him off before the battle, upon pain of dire disgrace. You see, the King wanted there to be be somebody left, who would remember their famous idea. He wanted badly that Tom should go back to Newbold Revell, where he could grow into an old man and live his life in peace—and he wanted him to tell everybody who would listen about his accent idea, which both of them had once thought was a good idea(T. H. White).”

This is indicative of his desire for the world to be better. Even though he has failed, he admits to it with the desire that the future can learn from the mistakes of the past. He is a ruler devoted above all to the success of humanity. Arthur, with the respectively described characteristics, is a king that I would be happy to see in power.

(retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3LpQfMXmeg.)

--Although not all depictions of Arthur are the same. I found this to be quite funny and depict Arthur quite the opposite as he was depicted within “The Sword and the Stone”. Here he is a bit of a brute and yelling at his subjects to be quiet. It would be safer to say that who Arthur was is up to the author describing him and their agenda. I would like the Arthur of “The Sword and the Stone”, but I would not like the Arthur in this video as a king. 

Source: 

White, T.H. (2011) The Once and Future King. New York: Penguin Group (USA)

[hermanwatts]

Sensor Sweep: Spears of Clontarf, Mech, Max Brand, Melee, Dresden Files

Robert E. Howard (Jeffro Johnson): This is a great story, a fascinating piece.

In the first place, it shows us up close the sort of peoples, Christian and pagan, that produced the bedrock of the myth and legends that would define our base concepts of fantasy and heroism. But it also presents the notion that we are descended from people that were every bit as heroic as Conan and Solomon Kane. And being written by Robert E. Howard, you can’t help but end up being persuaded!

So many good lines here:

My lords, it may be God’s will I fall in the first onset– but the scars of slavery burn deep in my back this night, and may the dogs eat my bones if I am backward when the spears are splintering.

  Fiction (Rawle Nyanzi): It’s finally here. The project that myself, Brian Niemeier, and Bradford C. Walker set out to complete is under way. Three mech books — two currently released, one in pre-orders — can finally be purchased on Amazon. One even has a sequel out. These stories are very different from one another. Xseed is military sci-fi in the Gundam mold, very grounded in realism; Reavers is “Christian knights in space,” strongly modeled off of both chivalric romances and classic Star Wars. My own book is based strongly on Japanese-style superhero shows, specifically Power Rangers, while also taking place in an alternate history.

      Authors (DMR Books): Frederick Faust, better known to millions of fans over the last hundred years as “Max Brand,” was born on this date in 1892. Awhile back, I wrote a post on H. Bedford-Jones where I called him “King of the Pulps.” I may need to change my mind on that one. I was following the opinion of Darrell C. Richardson–whose opinions and erudition I esteem greatly–in that instance. I think I’ll have to belatedly disagree with Darrell this time.

While Bedford-Jones is calculated to have written about twenty-five million words for the pulps in his career, Faust wrote at least that many in a shorter career–Faust died five years before Bedford-Jones, almost to the day. Both men wrote in various genres, but Faust appears to have made better money doing so.

  Fiction (HiLo Brow): Ernest Hemingway‘s WWI adventure A Farewell to Arms. A hardboiled account — by a disillusioned American, Frederic Henry, serving as a paramedic in the ambulance corps of the Italian Army — of the horrors of WWI. “I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain,” Henry recounts. “I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it…” Our narrator is introduced to Catherine Barkley, an English nurse, whom he indifferently attempts to seduce; he gets to know Catherine better as he recuperates under her care, after being wounded on the Italian front; he is sent back to the front — leaving a pregnant Catherine behind in Milan.

      Fiction (Eldtrich Paths): Grave Peril is the third book of the Dresden Files. I had no major problems with the first two books in the series, but I can see why many readers say the series picks up with this book. A lot happens. Harry Dresden has to deal with more characters, more problems, and more enemies are. The author really puts Harry through the grinder with this one, making it a great chapter in the series.

  Fiction (DMR Books): The second installment in the serialized version of Tros of Samothrace is titled “The Enemy of Rome” and consists of what would become chapters 15 – 26 of the novel published in 1934. Set in the late summer/early fall of the year 55 B.C., this story tells of the aftermath of Julius Caesar’s first invasion of Britain and was first published in the April 10, 1925 issue of Adventure magazine.

Tros has won his first skirmish with Caesar and Rome: he has Caesar’s ship, his pay chests, his seal of office and all of his correspondence (not just military intelligence but much of his foe’s schemes and ongoing plans).

    History (Don Herron): Recently I read A Splendid Savage: The Restless Life of Frederick Russell

Burnham by Steve Kemper. Here’s a paragraph from the book:

Apaches inspired terror for good reason. They were as harsh and pitiless as the landscape they roamed. For non-Apaches, the worst imaginable fate was to be taken alive by them. Captured children and young women were occasionally integrated into the tribe, but men were doomed to torments. Captives were often turned over to Apache women whose male relatives had recently been killed. 

      Fiction (Black Gate): The Wrath of Fantomas is a book I approached with extreme prejudice. It’s a graphic novel that seeks to present a new version of Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain’s Fantomas series, which proved so successful when it was introduced a scant 108 years ago. As a rule, I dislike the concept of rebooting a series.

When first discovering a book series as a kid, continuity was key. It made a property more meaningful if there were numerous volumes to find and devour. Scouring used bookstores for dogeared copies of the missing pieces in the narrative puzzle made such books far more valuable to me.

  Fiction (Hillbilly Highway): You can imagine my interest then, when I discovered that an Appendix N and Weird Tales stalwart, Manly Wade Wellman, wrote an entire series of short stories very much rooted in the lore of my people.  About John.  At least that’s the only way his name is given in the stories.  He is more usually known as John the Balladeer or Silver John.  He may also be a parallel universe Johnny Cash.  Or maybe John the Baptist.  Or maybe both.

  Games (Jeffro Johnson): This game is so rad.

I get it out to show it to people, as if to just explain what it is and show off the components…. But then, if you have time to explain it, you pretty much have time to play it. And once you play it, you gotta play it again!

The sample character cards from the recent Fantasy Trip “Monster” Set make this even easier. Just pick a card. Pick one at random, even. Man, it’s just so easy.

  Games and Popular Culture (Wasteland and Sky): I’m unconvinced there is a Millennial who knows what an actual homage is. They should, but for some reason have discarded this definition from their minds. A “homage” is clearly not swiping passages of another writer’s work and not transforming it to a new form, such as comedy or parody, or attributing the original when doing so. But that aside there is a another quote that gives the game away.

  Cinema (Sacnoth’s Scriptorium): So, the organizers of Tolkien Day in Kalamazoo arranged for a special showing of the new TOLKIEN biopic to a room full of Tolkien scholars. We were on the whole a skeptical bunch as to whether the filmmakers cd pull it off, but willing to see how it had come out.

The first thing that struck me was the trees. Tolkien famously said you can’t get much about trees into a play, one reason he considered drama inferior to fiction, but the filmmakers showed this is not necessarily the case for film.

  Fiction (Classic Mysteries): I’m pretty sure that readers who enjoy some of the great classics of science fiction are already familiar with the name of Fredric Brown. I have particularly fond memories of several of his SF classics, such as Martians, Go Home. But I’m also fond of Brown as a mystery author. And, as a fan of Lewis Carroll, and the Alice in Wonderland books in general, I generally try to re-read one of my favorite Fredric Brown mysteries, Night of the Jabberwock, every few years. It’s funny, medium-to-hard-boiled, and I think its plot is both unique and brilliant. It’s not always available in the marketplace, but – as of May, 2019 – it looks like it’s out there at least as an e-book. So here’s what I had to say about Night of the Jabberwock when I reviewed it on the Classic Mysteries podcast several years ago. I’ve updated the information about the book’s availability, but otherwise it’s pretty much as I first wrote and recorded it.

Pulp Science Fiction (SF Magazine): The Debt by E. Mayne Hull is the third of her ‘Artur Blord’ series, and sees the return of the alien Skal from the previous story. This one starts with Blord coming upon a ravaged spaceship, where all the men are dead and there is only one hidden survivor, Ellen Reith. All the other women have been taken by the Skal’s henchmen to the Castle of Pleasure. Blord realises that they will soon deduce from the manifest that Reith is missing, and that they will return for her. He calls his office to organise a cover up.

  Fiction(Paperback Warrior): Author Paul Bishop is a 35-year veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department. Receiving “Detective of the Year” accolades twice, Bishop starred as the lead interrogator on the ABC reality show “Take the Money and Run” developed by marquee name producer Jerry Bruckheimer. Along with his 15 published works, Bishop also is the writer and editor of the essential reference work “52 Weeks 52 Western Novels – A Guide to Six-Gun Favorites and New Discoveries”.

Sensor Sweep: Spears of Clontarf, Mech, Max Brand, Melee, Dresden Files published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[tststsss]

Why We Still Romanticize Artists Who Behaved Terribly

To be great in the arts, must one be appalling at home?

The works of Pablo Picasso “demanded human sacrifices,” his granddaughter Marina wrote in a memoir. “No one in my family managed to escape [from his] stranglehold.…He needed blood to sign each of his paintings.”Or consider

Lucian Freud, known for portraits of melancholy and isolation, who was himself the cause of much melancholy and isolation beyond the canvases, siring at least 14 children and troubling himself little with their lives. One daughter, Lucy, told a British newspaper of her attempts to connect with the great man: “I invited him to my wedding because I thought, he’s a father, even though he wasn’t a Dad.” Freud didn’t even respond.It’s not just painters—ask those who’ve lived among filmmakers, musicians, and authors. The greats are not always destructive egotists, but a striking number have been. Which raises an uneasy question: Could behaving horrendously make the art better?

To be clear, I’m not suggesting that the sexual misconduct exposed in recent months has the slightest role in outstanding work; such cases are about abusing power, never the pursuit of art. What I am suggesting is that repellent behavior plays a key role in our culture.Some link the unhinged mind to creativity, as if chaotic living might be evidence of a gift. But chaos doesn’t make for great art. Rather, it sells the artist as great.The wildman is what we devour in artist bios, much as we admire mafiosi on-screen. We who submit to the rules of society, repressing natural selfishness, view outlaws with a shiver of admiration. They enact our fantasies, scoffing at rules, earning respect nonetheless. Nobody relishes a well-behaved artist.Another advantage to grim personal behavior is that, sadly, it can help production—compelling a spouse to raise the kids, or using those kids to absorb one’s moods, or merely dismissing all who fail to serve one’s interests. Male artists have raged and spewed this way for centuries, grinding their darlings into material. It’s one reason why women have rarely been included among the artistic greats: They were never granted such moral immunity.Of course, ruthless types blemish the upper ranks of any competitive field, whether it’s politics or academia or business. But in such professions, savage egotists are disdained if their private cruelties are exposed. This has not been so for the cultural world. Its devils become our secular saints.

Just consider the language we use when discussing artistic greats: A cultural icon follows a vision, finds a voice, makes a path despite discouragement from lesser minds—then is proven right (resurrected) by posterity. But anyone who has observed many serious artists at work can attest that it’s less about righteous inspiration and more about dogged labor. Also, those making creative works do care what others think, mightily so. Or why battle for a job whose essence is communicating to strangers? The truly indifferent wouldn’t show their work. Which means you’ll never hear of them.The industries of culture have a stake in perpetuating artistic myths because an idol is invaluable for marketing. It’s diabolically hard to sell a cultural product on its merits alone. Look around: Nearly all arts publicity is backstory. About the maker. About a work’s origin. About anything except that which was intended to speak for itself.We’re willing to admit that, in our own times, cultural glory may be won due to petty considerations: patronage, personal attractiveness, a genius for friendship, where you’re born, which class you’re born into. Yet we cling to a weird faith that the best work ultimately find its rightful place.

But why? By what miracle should later generations gain a clarity of judgment that escapes our own? Yes, they’ll be free of our fads—but they’ll have fads of their own. And the range of work available for evaluation in museums, bookstores, and concert halls is already vastly culled by the malarkey that posterity is supposed to see beyond. Yet we prefer happy endings, so work backward till we find one.Culture—a province in awe of the genuine—contains so much falsity. And the history of its bunkum is centuries old.Since culture has been around far longer than note-taking, one can only speculate how prehistoric humans viewed their artistic cohorts. We do know that early objects were venerated and used in sacred rites, so perhaps their makers were considered magical. During classical antiquity, poets were extolled, but visual artists occupied a lowly station. “One venerates the divine images, one may pray and sacrifice to them,” the Roman philosopher Seneca said, “yet one despises the sculptors who made them.”By the Renaissance, however, everything was changing.

Giorgio Vasari’s Lives of the Artists, first published in 1550, retailed yarns about prodigies already brilliant from childhood, as if bestowed from above, able to draw a fly of such realism that oafs kept swatting it away. Vasari salted his mini-bios with gossip:

Michelangelo gets biffed in the nose by a rival;

Piero di Cosimo is a kooky recluse who survives on boiled eggs;

Raphael drops dead after a bout of vigorous sex. The tales are also riddled with errors. That, too, set a standard.

Another twist came in the early 1800s, a time when artists in France often resided in poor neighborhoods inhabited by Romani people—also known (pejoratively) as gypsies—who were associated with animal passions, sexual libertinism, and a supposed national origin in the Czech state of Bohemia. All of this was bogus. But the lusty legends radiated through the arts, making squalid struggle and ultimate recognition the defining fairytale of culture.Centuries on, bohemian fantasies haven’t left us. Every other generation seems to rediscover them, from the writing-painting-boozing expats of Paris in the ’20s, through the Beat poets after World War II, to the entire hippie era, to grunge in the ’90s, and so on.Before the #MeToo movement, nearly the only sins that justified expulsion from cultural consideration were Nazism or pedophilia (with the latter holding considerably less damning power). The weary old question was: Can we still admire a work after discovering the truth about its maker’s personality? But a reverse question is better posed: Have we been loving cultural works partly because of the maker’s personality?The #MeToo movement has pledged to transform the arts, and is already curbing disgraceful behavior. Yet we remain far from honest about what makes culture and whom we judge great, and why. All this falsehood, however, illuminates one enduring truth: Art still holds such a vital role for us that we’ll deceive ourselves to believe in it.Tom Rachman is the author of "The Italian Teacher," a new novel set in the art world.

https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-romanticize-artists-behaved-terribly?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=editorial

[stephenaltrogge-blog]

I told myself I wasn’t going to write about Star Wars: The Last Jedi. Enough blood and ink and emotion has already been spilled by histrionic reviewers and fans who either loved or despised the movie.

And honestly, it ranks pretty high on the “Things That Don’t Matter All That Much” list, alongside the Cleveland Browns, Hootie and the Blowfish, and the fact that U2 is hugely overrated.

But as a lifelong Star Wars fan who knows an unhealthy amount of Star Wars trivia, it does matter to me. And after seeing the movie for a second time last night, I really wanted to write something, even if it’s only for myself. Lest you forget, I’m a millennial blogger with an opinion, which means I’m contractually obligated to share it.

So here I am, a 35 year-old man writing about laser swords and Wookies. My mom would be proud.

If you would rather receive a roundhouse kick in the throat than read about Star Wars, I get it. This isn’t the post you’re looking for. Move along. But for the rest of you, you’re welcome/I’m sorry.

At The Heart Are Characters With Heart

Ultimately, Star Wars has always been about the characters. Yes, it’s about the Rebellion and Jedi and good versus evil. But it’s more than that. It’s about the people who make up the Rebels and the Sith and the bluish, hovering, semi-dead Jedi.

At the outset, all the characters had heart. Even when Luke was a young whippersnapper complaining about not being able to go to Toshi Station to get power converters, he deeply cared about the Rebellion. There wasn’t much question that he was a good guy, and when his aunt and uncle were killed, he was all in on being a Jedi and fighting the Empire.

He had heart.

Han Solo was initially a heartless mercenary who only cared about money. But when it mattered, he came back and rescued Luke on the final Death Star trench run. From that point on, he was all good. Heck, he was frozen in carbonite because of his dedication to the Rebellion.

Obi-Wan, though regretting his choices regarding how he trained Vader, was not in hiding out of self-pity. He was running for his life from Vader. When he met Luke, it was game on. He confronted Vader head on and sacrificed himself so that Luke and his companions could escape the Death Star.

The good guys always risked their lives for each other. They had each other’s backs. They answered the call when danger arose and didn’t shrink back in the face of overwhelming odds. And C3PO always reminded us that the odds were terrible.

The Empire was always clearly evil. Vader was menacing and frightening. The Emperor was a sadistic monster. Stormtroopers marched in formation like Nazis and delighted in wiping out innocent planets like Alderaan.

We never had any doubt about who was good and who was evil. We never watched Star Wars movies to see finely nuanced characters battle their inner demons. Yes, there was the whole good in Vader thing in The Return of the Jedi, but that was about it.

Star Wars has always been about characters who we cared about. Characters who cared deeply, did hard things, and had a real impact on the story. They all had heart.

Characters Without Heart

My biggest disappointment with The Last Jedi (and I had a lot), was that the characters lacked heart. It was as if director/writer Rian Johnson went out of his way to say, “Everything you thought about these people is wrong. They’re not so great. They’re flawed, messed up people who happen to be fighting for the Rebellion.”

In most cases, I would be thrilled with that directing choice. Normally, I hate two-dimensional characters. I like nuanced characters who have great flaws and weaknesses. I know that life is messy and I like movies that depict those blurred lines.

But not in Star Wars. I want clearly defined characters who know what they’re about and who I can get behind 100%. I want good and evil. I want people who know what they really care about. I don’t want wishy-washy flip-floppers.

That’s what was missing in The Last Jedi. Characters with heart.

The line, “Let the past die,” is repeated numerous times by a variety of characters, and in some senses, it felt like that was Johnson’s guiding principle. It was as if he wanted to take characters who had an established past and strip that from them. To transform the good guys into sort-of-good guys who have all sorts of problems. To show us that even the greatest aren’t that great.

The last we knew of Luke Skywalker, he was a triumphant Jedi who had vanquished Vader and the Emperor, defeated the Empire, and was a firm believer in all things good.

We encounter a very different Luke in The Last Jedi. He’s a shriveled, simpering, bitter, whining, dry alcoholic-ish figure who cares about nothing except letting himself and the Jedi order die. He’s not interested in helping the Rebellion or his sister or anyone else. He cares about himself and that’s about it. His character was completely gutted and we’re only given a few minutes of backstory as an explanation. It was a massive character shift in a miniscule amount of time.

When recounting the history of the Jedi, Luke calls it a history of failure. A history consisting of myths and legends rather than real people. This isn’t the Jedi or the Luke we were given in the previous movies. This is something altogether heartless and apathetic. It’s hard to care about this version of Luke.

Poe Dameron, the ace X-Wing pilot who thrives on ripping Tie Fighters to shreds, is revealed to be a cocky hot head who doesn’t know how to follow orders.

Fin, one of the heroes of The Force Awakens, reveals his mixed colors when he tries to sneak off the ship at the beginning of the movie.

Yes, these characters had moments of redemption in the movie, but even those moments were tempered by the fact that their actions didn’t matter at all. Poe and Fin’s elaborate plot to board a Star Destroyer resulted in everyone getting captured. It did nothing to contribute to the rescue of the Rebels and ended up being nothing more than a strange, distracting plot point that added nothing to the overall story.

Fin also could have redeemed himself by plunging headlong into the battering ram cannon but that was cut short when Rose knocked him off course (presumably making her some sort of hero and setting up some sort of romance between the two).

Luke’s “battle” with Kylo Ren at the end of the movie was nothing more than a diversion. He never left his island and never actually fought Ren. He just projected some sort of weird Jedi hologram, which I don’t understand but I’m willing to suspend disbelief on that one. His sacrifice wasn’t much of a sacrifice. He died/vanished, just like he wanted to from the outset.

Even Admiral Holden, the woman who took charge after Leia was injured, wasn’t much of a hero, at least in the traditional sense. She did sacrifice herself (which is heroic and admirable) in an effort to save her people, but that sacrifice accomplished nothing. It didn’t actually save the Rebels in the end. It was yet another strange plot device that didn’t really contribute to the movie (other than the cool shot of one ship ramming another as it jumped to hyperspace).

In the end, I came away feeling very “meh” about everyone except Rey and Kylo Ren. I’m all in on them. They know what they’re about. They are the new Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker.

But the rest? It’s hard for me to be all in on them. They all became much less likable.

I don’t want that kind of Star Wars.

Let The Past Die

Rian Johnson was all about letting the past die, and in many ways, he let the past of Star Wars die. The characters I loved are less lovable. The things I thought I knew about the Jedi are less certain. And with the departure of Han Solo, Luke, and presumably Leia, there’s not much left of the past.

I realize I’m in the minority on this. Most of the people I’ve talked to about the movie loved it.

And as I said at the beginning, I’m a 35 year-old guy writing about Star Destroyers, which is pretty lame.

Will I watch the movie again? Sure. I’m a Star Wars fan. But it doesn’t have the magic the others do, and I miss that.

I miss the heart.

The post The Last Jedi: A Movie Without Heart appeared first on The Blazing Center.