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vowel-in-thug · 8 years

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silverflint "nevermind, the moment's gone"

also calling out @ohflint‘s post here as the major source of inspiration, and by that I mean megh and elle told me to write this, and here we are.

in which i steal from POTC again

“nevermind, the moment’s gone.”/ “that was a perfect example of how not to do things.”

It hasn’t started raining yet, but Flint looks over at Silver just as a particularly bright bolt of lightning crackles through the sky. It illuminates the shine of his long hair, the sweat pooling low on his throat, the blood splattered across his cheek, the livid snarl of his teeth, and the flash of his sword as he swings it through the air and into the gut of a Redcoat.

He’s never looked more beautiful.

Flint pulls his own sword out of the soldier in front of him and says to Silver, “You should marry me.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Silver responds automatically, whirling on the next soldier.

There are only a few more left on the bottom deck of the Walrus. By the time they dispatch of them all, Flint is breathing heavily, feels Silver doing the same where he’s pressed against his back. The ship belonging to these soldiers is a smoldering wreck out in front, but the last one is steadily gaining on them, just like Flint planned.

“Wait,” Silver pants, looking at him over his shoulder. “What did you say?”

Flint turns to him and nearly slips on someone’s misplaced intestine spilled out on the deck. “Nevermind,” he says, scraping off the sole of his boot. “The moment’s gone.”

“No, it isn’t.” One of Silver’s hands grips the front of Flint’s jacket. “Say it again.”

“You should marry me,” Flint says.

Silver frowns at him, and opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t. He’s probably thinking -- two men don’t get married. It just isn’t done in this society. But men also don’t wage a war against an entire ruling government, act in open rebellion against the Crown, find pleasure in killing, and steal whatever they can get their hands on. Since when did they care what was done in society?

Having apparently reached the same conclusion, Silver pulls Flint close, until they’re flush together, but he doesn’t kiss him. He calls out over his shoulder, “Jack! You need to marry us!”

Jack isn’t paying attention, up on the top deck, gesturing wildly to someone with a loaded gun. Anne is beside him, however, looking down at them like they’ve grown two extra heads.

“Hold fast on the starboard side!” Jack shouts. “Starboard!” He looks down. “What did you say?”

They still hold their swords, they’re still pressed closer. “Marry us!” Silver yells over the roaring wind.

Jack blinks down at them. “I’m not marrying you!” he says. “What about Anne?”

Anne scoffs with her whole body, and storms away, bumping into Jack hard as she passes. She starts poking the bodies on the ground as she makes her way to the bow, checking to see if any of them are still in need of killing.

“Us.” Flint now grips Silver’s jacket as a strong wave crashes into the side of the ship. “You’re the only other Captain here.”

If Jack is confused why two men want to marry, he doesn’t voice it. He does, however, ask, “What, you want to do this right now?”

Flint looks back at Silver, but he doesn’t look for very long, because Silver kisses him just as the clouds above finally split open. He tastes the assuredness on Silver’s tongue as well as he can taste the tang of someone else’s blood there, as well as he can taste the rain. He wants to crowd him against the mast and forget the whole plot for awhile. And he moves them one step back to do that, but then someone overhead shouts, “Incoming!” And they break away with the shuddering rock of cannonfire.

“Gun crews!” Flint stumbles away from Silver to look down at his men. “Fire at will!”

He turns back to see Silver kneeling, his hands dripping with blood, and his heart stops for one sick, horrifying, long second, fearing the worst.

But Silver is just wrestling a ring off a fallen soldier. His sword and his crutch are on the ground beside him, as he balances precariously on his knee, uncaring of the mayhem around him. He’s carving at the dead man’s finger with a small knife, muttering to himself as blood coats his palms down to his wrist, until the ring finally slides off with a slick sound. Silver holds it up and smiles. “Let’s do this right, darling.”

Anne, who happens to be running by at that second, stops in her tracks beside them. Flint knows she’s in just the right mental state to kill them both and not even remotely care. “I ain’t an expert with this shit,” she spits at Silver still on his knee, before turning away, “but I think that was a perfect fucking example of how not to do that.”

Silver pouts at Flint, struggling to stand. “You don’t want it?” He fiddles with it awkwardly, his sword forgotten on the ground. “I just thought --”

Flint snatches it out of his hand. “Pick up your fucking sword,” he says, sliding it on. It goes easy with all the blood, and it fits him perfectly. He looks back up on the top deck. “Jack!”

They all duck as debris goes flying. The final Navy ship is within boarding distance, and his crew makes their way over without waiting for Flint to tell them to do so, because Silver trained them all to know when Flint is too fucking busy to lay out the simplest order.

Even through the chaos, Flint can see Jack sigh. He’s not even looking at who he’s shooting in the face as he says, “Dearly departed, we are gathered here today --”

“Beloved,” shouts Flint, as the first Redcoat makes the mistake of trying to board the Walrus right in front of him. “Have you ever even been to a wedding before?”

“No. I’ve ruined several before. Does that count?”

Pirates swing from their ship to the Navy’s, crossing paths with soldiers doing the same, like vines, or dead men, hanging beneath a willow tree. Boots hit the deck all over, a rallying cry is heard over a tumultuous crash of thunder, Jack fires his pistol again and yells, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today for a decidedly different fucking purpose than a fucking wedding --” He’s cut off when a particularly burly Redcoat tackles him around the waist, apparently forgetting they both held swords.

“For fuck’s sake,” says Flint, slitting the throat of the man in front of him. He pivots towards Silver, who is bringing down his sword on a soldier like he’s holding an axe and not a sword. “John Silver, do you take me to be your husband?”

“I already fucking said--” Silver stabs someone else and faces him. “Oh, this is the -- right. Yes. I do.”

“Fantastic,” says Flint, and then he’s against the wall with two soldiers attacking at once, swords singing all around him like a flock of birds, and he’s keeping them back because they aren’t coordinated at all, but then Flint blocks a blade from above and another catches his side, just a glancing blow, but it makes him falter, bending instinctively to protect his new wound.

And then one of the men’s head explodes from the side, and his dead weight falls into the other soldier, both of them tumbling into the ground. Silver stomps up, pistol still smoking, as Flint pierces the living man right through the heart.

“Captain --” Silver stops. “Flint -- McGraw? James.” He throws his empty pistol over Flint’s shoulder, smacking a soldier right on the forehead, knocking him down into the raging sea. “Do you take me to be your not-so-lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, or, as is more likely, in brutal killing or in health, ‘til death do us part?”

“I fucking do.” Flint pulls Silver close again, and drives his sword into the man running up behind Silver with a gun. “Though we wouldn’t be parted for long.”

Silver grins. “Never,” he says, with blood in his teeth.

An overwhelming boom, like thunder but closer and tangible, resounds, and then a great crack is heard as the Navy ship jolts hard. Despite the waves and the wind and the storm, it seems like the ship is utterly still for just a moment before it breaks, the snap and twist of splitting wood sounding like the bones of God snapping.

And Jack is somehow, miraculously, still alive. “As a Captain, though not actually the Captain of this godforsaken ship,” he shouts, his face so bloody he looks like he’s wearing a mask. He’s also somehow standing on top of capstan, staying upright despite the turbulence. “I know pronounce you husband and wife, and I’ll let you decide amongst yourself who is who because I absolutely do not want to know. You may now ki--”

Jack falls, and they all fall, too. The force of the Navy ship sinking has sent a tidal wave crashing into the Walrus, and the ship is almost horizontal. Flint finds himself dangling from Silver’s crutch, Silver hanging onto a piece of rope. He can’t see what it’s attached to. Their eyes lock, because there’s nothing they can do in this moment other than hold on and see what happens, and all Flint wants to see is Silver. He lets go of his sword and uses both hands to pull himself up, until they’re face to face. Flint sees some fear in Silver’s eyes, some anger. But mostly he sees himself, reflected in their clear blue.

Over the din of screams and water, he vaguely hears someone shouting, “You may now k--”

The Walrus creaks dangerously as it struggles to right itself. One moment it is on a precipice, existing simultaneously between devastation and survival, which is how Flint has always lived his life. Which is how he isn’t surprised when the Walrus finally shifts upright. Flint survives -- it’s what he does.

Everyone is still on the floor, but quickly get to their feet. Except for Flint and Silver. They stay on the ground, clinging to each other, bleeding on each other. The only weapons they’re holding are each other.

Anne runs by again. She’s even bloodier than Jack, but she looks intensely satisfied. “Just fucking kiss,” she says as she goes, and Flint listens.

He could hear more fighting going on around him, but in the dark they must look like two more bodies on the deck, tangled together in death, and no one bothers them. Flint kisses Silver and thinks that’s fine. Let him be mistaken for dead, let him be dead, for all that it matters, as long as he dies like this. He has no need for final words on his tongue when Silver’s mouth is on his, swallowing them down. His enemy is falling, the rain is washing away his blood, and his husband is cupping his jaw and kissing him deeper. There are no better ways to die.

And then Silver is pulling away. “Stop it, dear,” he says, using the rope to pull himself upright. “I can always tell when you’re kissing me and thinking about dying. Now get up, find your sword, and get back to work. We haven’t won yet.”

Flint stands. “Already with the nagging,” he says, and he wipes a drop of blood from Silver’s brow with his thumb before it falls into his eye. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Silver says as he turns to stab one of the few remaining soldiers running past. “I can tell you now, I’m an incredibly demanding spouse. And I won’t have you dying before I get my wedding night.” He kisses Flint once more, as hard and giving as himself, and then stomps back into the fight.

Flint survives.

#black sails #black sails fic #silverflint #hey look it's my suffering #this was so hard to write because of the gratuitous violence and the romance #to the anon who sent me another prompt i will do it -- eventually #ellelen #ohflint #karategirl448

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

Text

Gale Summarised Analysis

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in May 2021.

The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (this includes my Gale-solo playthroughs as well as a combination of the videos by munmomuu and selphie1999), and the few dev’s notes provided by pjenn. Gale as origin is not taken into account since it’s not finished and has little to none Gale-related content. There will be little datamining content as well since pjenn said the game contained almost no gale-related notes (only in the Weave and in the Revelation scene).

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

We can infer about Gale by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but let’s be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed, in very rare instances, by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Gale approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.

Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to “desires” or “projections” of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from what’s personal interpretation with little proof.

Understanding Gale (integrated text)

We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them

---Gale

Collecting most of the information provided in-game, we know he has a cat, a Library, and writes poetry sometimes. One of the first things that Gale will reveal is that he is a private person. He easily and clearly sets boundaries from the first moment, showing Tav where they stand. The second aspect he makes us aware of is his pragmatic thinking and his preference for diplomatic approaches. A third aspect that stands out on its own: he is a very verbose person, maybe as a result of his academia background in combination with his poetry hobby. He also has a bad posture when talking, but I’m not sure if this is intentional or a bug.

We can assure that Gale certainly is a man of the city [13], and may have a decent social status. It's impossible to say for sure if it's noble or rich or both, or it is just a natural consequence of being a wizard scholar: he is frustrated by the harshness of the camping life, he misses the civilisation of the city which offers well cooked meals, soft beds, and scented baths. Not by chance he is the only companion in the group who would approve of giving Oskar 200 gold to fight “the discomforts of the road” [13]. However, he adapts. Despite the lack of luxuries, he managed to survive in the wilderness.

Gale and his link with magic is unquestionable. Magic is life for Gale, metaphorically and literally speaking since it's magic what allows him to stay alive despite the "orb" in his chest. If we talk about Magic, we have to talk about Mystra and the Weave. The Weave is not only the embodiment of Mystra, it's an extension of Mystra herself. It extends across many planes of existence and is in almost all parts of Faerûn. By dragging power from it, Magic can be performed.

Mystra, for lore reasons and conjectures that I will discuss in the post "Mystra and her Chosen ones", turned teenager/young adult Gale into one of her Chosen, making their relationship more intimate and granting Gale a deeper access to the Weave. This put Gale into the category of an archwizard. It's clear that Gale was and still is a devotee of Mystra, which could give us a hint of his alignment since she is a neutral good goddess and she expects for her Chosen to align around it.

Gale likes confidence, in others and in himself. He is confident in his looks (he has described himself as a “handsome devil” and answered during the romance/Revelation scene that he knew he was beautiful under the light as well as Tav). But beyond these two lines, qualifying him as a narcissist seems extreme. He is surely very confident about his knowledge, and we see he is not just mere words: his Mind Flayer knowledge is at the the same level of what githyankis know. If we compare how Astarion/Tav struggled with the book of Thay, and then we see how Gale manages it (sadly the scene is not complete yet in EA, and there is almost no datamining info of Gale), we can conclude once more that his knowledge and power of the mind are real (he is, so far, the main companion who allows us to explore the lore of the game in a deeper way during his conversations). We also know it's a bit more complicated to intrude into his mind using the tadpole because he has knowledge and mental tools to protect himself (check the post about the Tadpole inside Gale). He is certainly a very verbose and confident scholar, who knows his limits, and in occasions he seems to dabble into an ego-teasing play as an attempt of levity, displaying his “insufferable side”, as he has described himself (his self-awareness of these traits is remarkable, and it is the reason why I avoid qualifying him as arrogant. Arrogant chars are hardly self-aware of their own bad manners or insufferable traits). But we can see it's usually done as a joke or, with an evil Tav, as an aggressive reaction. For a deep analysis of this aspect, check the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Narcissism".

Based on his approvals and disapprovals, we can see that Gale has a strong preference in avoiding fights, violence, and bloodshed [1]. He will always prefer diplomatic and persuasive approaches [2]. Reasoning is his best weapon, but if the individual we are dealing with can hardly be persuaded, he would approve of a deception or an intimidation as long blood is not spilt. Here is where we see his pragmatism in action, all the time. His primary goal at every moment is to avoid bloodshed. His philosophy could be summed up in the line “the means [as long as they don’t kill gratuitously] hardly matter if the end is worthy”. And for Gale, nothing is more worthy than life [3]. This doesn't cover only the life of innocents he cares about, it includes the life of the most dubious characters as well, such as Rugan or Crusher. Gratuitous death is meaningless for him. During the scene of Nettie we can have a glimpse of his philosophy towards life: he viscerally hates treating life as if it were nothing:

Gale: How dare she snuff out life with as much thought as snuffing out a bloody candle? […] It's not right to feel the cold breath of death in your neck, then move on as if it was nothing but a soothing breeze. One respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.

Gale: One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.

Probably the limited amount of life he has due to the "orb" increased his sense of respect for life and its celebration. I personally understand Gale as a character who embodies the perspectives of a seriously ill person, knowing that their life may be short, but they will try to make the best out of it.

He doesn't only respect life per se, he also cares about its dignity. This can be seen in his explicit rejection to undead existences such as Connor (he explains that it would be merciful to put an end to his undead nightmare), or in his disapprovals of humiliation and torture [9]

We could suspect that this emphasis in protecting any life comes from the fact that only people who are alive can (sometimes) be forgiven or/and change. This is not explicit, but since he is a character who talks about being better and wiser than his previous self, about acknowledging mistakes, about forgiveness, this interpretation seems reasonable.

These concepts of kindness and compassion combined with “the mistakes of the youth” are repetitive in his interactions and approvals [5,12]. Of course, they echo in his soul since they are reflections and desires of his own experience. This pattern covers forgiving children in particular [5], and disapproving hard judgements [16], especially on matters whose story is not fully understood by Tav. This means he doesn't like quick judgements when he doesn't know the whole story first. This scenario can be easily seen during Karlach's quest, he reserves his judgment until knowing Karlach's side: There are always two sides to each story.

Gale: I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea. Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades? [...]When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop.

Similar concept appears during his Revelation scene, when he encourages and keeps asking Tav to listen to him first before judging. This is also the reason why in his Loss scene he would disapprove if Tav quickly assumes that his loss of Mystra was due to arrogance. Tav judged him without knowing the whole story. However, once Tav knows the whole story, Gale will accept any judgement from them without approval penalties during the Revelation scene.

He approves all actions that imply helping others in hard times and disapproves of them if they were done out of greed [4]. He is an animal lover [6,7]. Being kind to animals and treating them good will increase his approval, while animal cruelty will earn his disapproval. Same goes for humanoids: any display of gratuitous violence that could have been prevented with a trick or a diplomatic approach, any humiliation forced upon others, any torture or situation of slavery, is disapproved [8, 9, 11].

In particular, Gale seems to advocate the philosophy of “give others their own medicine”[18] or in other words: poetic justice. We can see this during the Myconid colony; he approves of helping the Myconid to avenge the young killed by the Duergar, adding the comment: “Wicked killers deserve wicked ends”. He is implying to give them a similar, wicked medicine to the Duergars. Another less deadly situation of this kind is shown during the foot situation with Crusher: Gale is the one suggesting “pungent poetic justice” and telling Tav that they should force Crusher to kiss their feet.

The most iconic scene, however, is during Nettie's, if Tav lies during her interrogation. As a hot-headed reaction, Gale states that he would have poisoned Nettie if this situation would have happened to him. Although, after calming down, he approves of and confirms Tav's actions [if Tav managed to persuade Nettie to give them the antidote]

Gale: A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves! […] But you handled it, and you handled it well.

In this scene we also see a pattern: Gale is shown as a fallible human; his most visceral reaction during the first moment is anger and indignation, giving us a hint that he is not so rational when it comes to emotional states. An extremely obvious, human concept.

The scene of Nettie trying to kill a potential menace (the victim of a MF) reverberated in his consciousness, projecting immediately a fact in his mind: if he ever dares to reveal his "orb" problem, and anyone knows what a danger he represents—no matter how stable it looks—people will want to remove the menace by killing him.

This is the reason behind his words “It's just that, had it been me... had it been...” Gale knows that this simplistic and common thinking in removing what's dangerous would end up turning into a more destructive tragedy in his case than in any infected victim of the tadpoles. So this combination makes us see, for the first time, an emotional Gale. After some seconds, he cools down and returns to his more rational, diplomatic, and moderate self. What we can read here is that Gale would be very prone to rush decisions or to make mistakes under emotional circumstances. We will learn later that the other mistake he made under emotional stress ended up with the "orb" stuck in his chest. A third mistake was done during the party, once more under the emotional stress of a potential abandonment by Tav due to the true nature of the orb.

Everything related to the “orb”—which is his most traumatic experience—naturally makes him more emotional and prone to mistakes. To see how truly traumatic the "orb" is in his life we can notice the following patterns during the meeting scene: he speaks about the tadpole in a relaxed, rational way, despite the traumatising experience. He first asks for an archwizard instead of for a cleric, because his priority is the orb. Gale's main fear is not the tadpole, but the orb. If we remember his words after the consumption of the artefacts, we realise he lives in a permanent state of anxiety and raw fear, and probably pain too, given his facial gesticulation when anything interacts with the "orb" (whether artefacts or Tav's hand). His banter with Shadowheart reinforces the concept that he always has a knot in the stomach. When he accepts the deal with Raphael, it seems to be related to the orb, not to the tadpole. The effect of the "orb" has ceased, but the tadpole is still in Gale's head since we still need to roll against a high DC and not only against a 1DC during this scene, so we can assume he still has the tadpole despite Raphael's deal. See the post about "The Tadpole" in Gale for more details.

Gale is a character that represents human experiences deeply related to growing up: mistakes done in the past, and the acceptance of not being forgiven despite the desire of wanting to. This can be easily seen during the conversation of the second tadpole dream, where Gale's mood is foul and we learn that his deepest desire is for Mystra to forgive him, but he also knows it's impossible for that to happen. He detects the lie in this dream because he has accepted that Mystra will never forgive him. Gale is the story of mistakes done during youth with grave consequences, of acknowledging them and trying to make them right, of surviving those mistakes, and depending on the interpretation, he is also the story of an ill dying man, with a gentle vision and deep care for life.

The great majority of his approvals are based on actions that show kindness and compassion, both reiterative concepts that are so important in his character that they come from his lips when we see the goblin party:

Gale: The shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [Only after a tough DC of 15]

In combination with: Gale: I don't know myself anymore. All this... It's not who I am. Around you, I'm not who I want to be. I should leave.

These lines show how, in a sudden change to an evil path, Gale would start doubting his own morality, explaining that the cause of it is the "orb" itself, corrupting the most core aspects of his personality. This corruption may or may not be lore-related. It's not completely clear what Gale's "orb" truly is. For more details, check the post of the "Orb".

His constant critical thinking comes from his advocacy to non-conventionality [15]: a true scholar will always explore all the options and hypotheses before reaching a conclusion. Therefore, Gale would approve of any non-conventional way to fix a problem [15] as long as it doesn't potentially cause harm or bloodshed [1,2,3,8,9]. Due to his own background, Gale will always advise to be very careful of the consequences of one’s actions. This can be easily seen when, after encountering the caged goblin Sazza, Gale would advocate to explore the possibility of reaching Gut Priestess to cure the tadpole. However, when Tav helps Sazza to escape, Gale will comment briefly against this action.

Gale: I know I said it's not inconceivable a goblin priestess could help us. And yet... was it really wise to set another goblin free so she can arrange introductions? […] consider the consequences. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? Tav: I don't care, I owe this grove no allegiance. Gale: No allegiance, no. Though we don't need to sign its death warrant

Once more we see that Gale is up to using any (unharming) means to get a goal, but not at any cost. He has a clear line he doesn't like to cross: life [3]. Avoiding putting other people's lives in danger is very important for him. We see this concept over and over in most scenes.

He doesn't likerushed decisions, and in that same train of thoughts, he will disapprove any use of unknown magic or tricks when nobody in the group can truly understand how they work [17], for example the tadpoles or Raphael's deal (he is against accepting it quickly, but he will approve of having a more cautious attitude and carefully thinking about it).

Since the moment we meet him, we can infer he is obsessed with the artefacts. It's obviously understandable: he doesn't want to die, but also, he doesn't want to kill all those that will be caught in the eruption of the orb. For this reason he will insist on the loot in the Temple Ruins despite knowing that grave robbery is not correct.

Gale: Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing? […] Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.

He keeps pondering life over death: although he respects the dead, he will always value more the living creatures in the present. This is also what pushes Gale to suggest Tav to open Rugan's chest. Stealing from the evil Zhentarins is not something that will weigh on his consciousness too much. Besides, he knows it belongs to a wizard: meaning that the chance for it to contain a powerful artefact is really high. Similar suggestions will be said about the Idol of Silvanus, but talking with him in the camp will show us that he won't approve of taking it, only as a last resort. He keeps pondering the living over a sacred piece of stone, since he knows the druids won't take the stealing very peacefully. Once more we see Gale's respect and care for life, trying to minimise damage as much as the circumstances allow him.

Gale is also a survivalist. He doesn't want to die, he loves celebrating life in its more mundane and small details. He is an emotional character for a wizard, a bit strange since they are usually portrayed as more rational and cold, losing their lives among dusty books. However, Gale has shown in many scenes that he prefers to survive without killing, but if he has to, he will do it, dealing with the weight of it in his consciousness because killing unprovoked affects him (scene in the camp after killing the druids, or the goblin party scene).

His moral in preventing gratuitous death sometimes will conflict with his own survival, especially if he is by an evil Tav's side. He couldn't accept bloodshed when other peaceful options were available and possible to reach. This is clearly shown during the goblin party, where Gale's consciousness suffers and feels the corruption of the "orb" killing the kindness and the compassion inside him. He accepts that wanting to live is a powerful drive, but he doesn't support this massacre, questioning if all that blood was necessary. A Tav killing the tieflings seems to lose the possibility of pursuing Gale romantically, at least in EA so far. For Gale, survival is important, but the means to do it (when they can cause death) matter too. Life is worth preserving.

The usual archetype of survivalist tends to be an individualist one who would survive at any cost without remorse because that's the “law of the jungle”, the strongest must survive. However, Gale seems to embody a different concept of survivalist that it's hard to put in words: a sort of communal survivalist, trying to survive in coexistence with his community: he wants his survival to imprint the least harm possible (even though sometimes it would not be possible), trying to help those around him as long as his condition allows it; for example, despite wanting Gut's potential cure for the tadpole, he would disagree in helping Sazza escape because she will lead the goblins to the Grove, no matter the fact that doing this will grant them their introduction to the priestess.

His list of approval shows that his sense of survival is always pondered with the consequences that it can cause on others (check the post with the "Extensive list of Gale's approvals"). The whole concept of the "orb" has this motivation as well: he wants to live and survive, but he also can't give up because his body would kill many, so he needs to do as much as his moral allows him to keep it in check. If he cannot do it any longer, he promises to minimise the disaster as much as possible by erupting in the deep Underdark or in a desolated corner of Faerûn (and considering his ridiculous list of approvals and disapprovals, we know he is honest in not wanting to kill gratuitously). Gale acknowledges his own mistakes, trying—to the best of his ability—to deal with them without catching others in them. Although all his speeches keep emphasising that he is a mere human, and plans may fail.

At some point, if he wants to survive “not at any cost”, he will be forced to ask Tav for help during the scene of the stew (available only for medium approval or higher). As a gesture of honesty, Gale will set a boundary before making this request, acknowledging its unfairness but giving Tav the decision to proceed or not. He is not denying to explain the details later, but at the moment he can't speak the “why” of his condition no matter how curious Tav is. Tav will decide whether they can keep their curiosity on the matter.

We will understand later that this impediment comes as a precaution as well as consequence of his personal trauma with Mystra and the "orb" (See post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust"). So, he is very clear about setting the conditions in which this conversation will happen from the beginning. The easiest way for Gale to avoid this whole situation would have been by simply lying, but he opted for an honest approach with clear out-loud reservations, knowing he was asking for more trust than he was allowed to, but the intention behind is more than important. There is a clear, huge contextual detail that we can't miss: this scene doesn't happen because of Gale's whims, he is forced to ask for help since his condition “is not a patient one” and will endanger everyone if not kept at bay.

This detail where Gale explicitly asks for an exchange of trust is not present if Gale's approval is neutral or lower. In this case, Gale would not care about giving a context to his strange request: he doesn't trust Tav and he doesn't expect to be trusted either, he only wants the artefacts to keep his condition in check for his sake and the sake of others. We can understand this change of attitude depending on the approval as he doesn't want to give any extra explanation to someone he is not interested in building a relationship with. For more details, check the post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust".

I personally support the idea that nobody in canon Faerûn is free of racial prejudices since Forgotten Realms lore has been created based strongly on fantasy racism. I've read that WotC wants to move forward and improve this aspect in 5e, but so far what they allowed Larian to do with the Tieflings in BG3 seems to show the contrary. So, since apparently we are going to face fantasy racism anyways, I will try to analyse racial prejudices from all chars. When it comes to Gale, it's a bit far-stretched to point out unjustified racial biases. He has a vague comment about Rashemi that some people may consider a faerunian saying. Personally, I think that line is a bias forced into him to have a particular dynamic with Minsc (the Rashemi “silly” companion -we all can see where Larian seems to go with this). Gale clearly sees tieflings, gnomes, and even goblins as people, and has a cautious attitude towards some githyanki (at least that's what we can infer with Lae'zel when we find her in the cage), but given the githyanki lore it's pretty reasonable to see them as dangerous creature that could kill people on the spot. So far, he seems to have no racial preference either [10].

As it was said before, he prefers to avoid killing people, but that doesn't mean he won't do it if his life depends on it. He will prefer persuasive and defusing approaches, but if he needs to kill to defend innocents or his own life, he won't hesitate. So therefore, stories about characters making mistakes or having violent excess in an effort to protect themselves or what they hold dear will be understood by him but hardly approved [19]. He tends more to approve a call out of that excess than approving an excuse for it.

Gale has deep abandonment issues that can be easily seen when he defends Astarion from being handed over to Gandrel. We need to put this in context before going on: for Gale, Astarion represents a danger as a vampire who attacked one of them during their sleep. By the display of meta-knowledge, we know with certainty that their approvals and disapprovals are mostly opposite: What one approves, the other will disapprove and vice versa. Getting rid of Astarion should be something that Gale would approve, however, he doesn't. If we explore his comments we will realise that what Gale disapproves from this situation is Tav's abandonment. After Mystra's abandonment, he knows very well that “Loyalty is such a very rare commodity”, and the few situations in EA in which Tav can display abandonment, resound strongly in Gale.

Gale is a scholar with a strong balanced rational side. But unlike the trope, he also embraces an emotional side that, so far the info we received in EA, it's the side that makes him prone to mistakes.

As an amateur poet, Gale loves words. We can obviously notice this in his verbose attitude, but also in the way he carefully uses words. One of his characteristic words is “spectacle”. He has also shown a reiterative—although not always—uneasy use of the word “fun”. Using “fun” as a way to describe the night spent with Gale gives him a slight uneasiness. “That’s a word for it.” He disapproves of using the word “Fun” after the Mayrina/Connor situation, in which scene Gale alludes that “your new company may be a proof of how depraved and twisted you are to see that tragedy as “fun”. Personally I think this is a direct allusion to Astarion, who considers Mayrina's situation as “entertainment”, in the same way he considered as “fun” the show of Arabella's death (two of several instances where he used that word). Gale also doesn’t use the word sex during EA, instead he uses romantic ones such as love-making, intimacy, art of the night/body. In the most technical case: coitus (used only when he is talking about “goblinoid intimacy” in the expression “post-coital snack”). These details are showing not only his poet/romantic side, but also his interpretation of sex from his perspective: sex can only be possible through a connection. We know he doesn’t engage in casual sex with Lae’zel if he is not romanced, and his romance can only potentially start if Tav shares that deep connection with him through the Weave.

Another detail related to words is that Gale has always used an infection/disease-related vocabulary to explain the “orb” stuck in his chest: infested, taint, shadow spreading

[…] I failed to control [this chaotic magic]. Instead it infested me. […] This Netherese taint... this orb, for lack of a better word [..] […] the shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [...]

Gale apparently has a particular way to sense magic. I have no way to check this in-game, but it seems very strange how he immediately identifies magical artifacts without casting Detect Magic. There are some extra scenes as well where he says to taste or smell the magic in some objects. Even his encounter with Shadowheart, besides being considered a flirt, could be also interpreted as him detecting the magic that we saw later in her hand or maybe the dark magic that blocks her memories, since Gale pointed out about a curtain covering her soul: “if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror” (a very ominous flirting if it’s only a flirt)

This makes me suspect that, if the "orb" is not giving him this skill, it may be a consequence of having been Chosen of Mystra (for more details read the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones"). If this is the case, he may have hindered remains of theirs powers when it comes to detect magic at will.

Gale has a perception of magic with all the senses: he sniffs and tastes magic. During the mirror scene you have an option related to [Arcana] tag where he “Sniff the mirror, trying to understand the nature of its magic”. A wizard Tav will just “Inspect the mirror”. He also said that he could “taste” the magic in the necromancy book and in the runes of teleportation.

What we know of his family is little: when he was a kid there was a housekeeper in his life (mentioned only once during the scene of the harpies) and his mother that seemed to have personally raised and cared for him (mentioned twice: in the ruin temple scene, and in his banter with Wyll)

Tav: Why care about decorum in a long-abandoned tomb? Gale: Because my mother raised a gentleman. Then again, to be alive is to be curious.

Wyll: Between the orb and the bug you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say. Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

This post was written in May 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#bg3 meta #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 early access #bg3

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 3/8

Chapter Summary:

Rain... Fireworks... Romance?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82052251

April 15, 2021 - 7:00

Loki, his heart pounding, approached the mailbox whose flag was raised.

He opened it and unfolded the small note with trembling fingers.

Thank you for this lovely attention. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it.

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone anymore and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either!

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to continue to get to know you and for you to get to know me.

Tell me what you like.

Yours, Mobius.

Loki breathed a sigh of relief, put the letter in his pocket and left. He would have to work before he could write. This was no longer a matter of a quick word, he wanted to take time to think before he wrote.

As he walked through the school gates, although he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2019

Mobius was sitting in what had become his special Loki spot, the armchair in front of the bay window, a steaming cup of coffee next to him, reading Loki's latest letter.

I love Norse mythology and my work.

My favorite cocktail is Gimlets, gin and lime.

This brings me to my favorite color: green.

I have a sweet tooth, I like all kinds of sweets and pastries, and on the other hand I also like everything spicy.

I like quiet evenings reading and listening to music.

I like Jane Austen, The Brontë sisters and Paulo Coehlo.

I like to use metaphors but I have heard that they are not always great.

And although I can't stand violence, I like daggers, especially old ones.

Oh and I forgot, I like the house on the hill.

Mobius promised himself to go and see in Sylvie's antique weapons store if she had any antique daggers.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lies.

And although they are green I hate peas.

Mobius laughed at the last sentence, he finished his coffee and went to get his notepad to start writing.

April 19, 2021

Loki, sitting cross-legged on his couch with Croki's head on his leg, was reading Mobius' latest letter.

I like to take watches apart and put them back together, to see the mechanism inside. They are all different.

I like to walk in the streets of New York and discover places by chance.

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish.

I like whiskey, Jack Daniels, and occasionally a good glass of red French Bordeaux wine.

I like all kinds of music, but my preference is for jazz.

I don't like lies, preconceived judgments, and gratuitous meanness, well, just plain meanness.

And I also like the house on the hill.

How did you end up living there anyway?

Loki read the letter again, folded it up and put it in the little box with the others before going to bed and thinking about what he would answer the next day.

April 21, 2019

Mobius went out still in his robe because it was a day of rest. He was surprised to see that Loki had already answered if he was to believe the little flag. He refused to question the fact that his heartbeat had accelerated.

He went to get the letter, then read it in front of his breakfast, Croki at his feet.

I rented it after college. It was the strangest place I had ever seen. I couldn't imagine anyone building it. Or... I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it sort of...hovered over the water. I loved that path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2021

Loki, on break between classes, took the letter out of his pocket and read it again.

Yes, the fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door and that it's uphill, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time you enter the house, it's like you're embarking on a quest whose prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound eccentric.

April 24, 2019

During his lunch break, and all day, he read that simple phrase from Loki over and over again.

Don't apologize, you can be eccentric. You can be whatever you want.

Mobius had always felt different, both in his personal and professional life choices, and this simple phrase eased some of his inner struggles. He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest.

*********

A few weeks passed. The wind was blowing violently on a late spring day in New York. Loki was walking rapidly towards the school. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, he grabbed it to answer the call.

-Yes?

Loki lost the smile on his face.

-Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know that... no, I'm not mad that you called. I just... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I...

He was approaching the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students came in.

-I don't think that's a good idea. No. Sigyn, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... look, I'm on my way to work, we'll talk about it. Bye.

Loki sighed, shaking his head as he walked through the large front door.

" Already feeling demotivated?" asked Natasha as she greeted him with a smile.

"Oh no no!" protested Loki.

"That's good timing. Heimdall has caught the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's absent. Since you have an art degree, I was wondering if..."

"No worries! I'm happy to oblige."

"Perfect," Natasha thanked him, "You can check with the assistant about Heimdall's schedule and make arrangements then. Thank you Loki, really. If the exams weren't coming up, I wouldn't have asked you."

Loki replied, "No worries, really."

If anything, he was glad to see that even though he was the last one in and the youngest teacher, he was trusted.

At the end of the week, as he walked home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought about it before saying yes.

Because he was exhausted.He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to handle two positions.

Fortunately, Heimdall was back at work on Monday.

Loki put his groceries in the car and thought he'd stop by the house on the hill before heading home.

When he arrived, the little flag was up.

He took the letter and opened it.

Hi, pen pal. You haven't written in a while. I hope all is well.

You actually I

This is ridiculous, just a few words to write and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager.

Well I'm writing it down: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with force.

Loki felt a strange warm feeling in his chest. He had also hugely missed the correspondence, so he hurried to answer on the spot and put the letter in the box before going home.

**********

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Mobius chose to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box and once he got home, Croki fed, he went to his favorite place to read the letter.

It has been a difficult week.

I couldn't get away from work and only had the strength to go to bed at night. I can't remember the last time I looked up at the sky, or saw a damn tree. That's what I miss. The nature around me.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too

June 15, 2019 - 9:00 pm.

In the evening, Mobius left the house with a small tree in the pickup's trailer. He was driving towards the city.

June 15, 2021 - 9:30 pm

In the middle of the walk from school to his apartment, Loki saw the black rain clouds gathering in the sky. Suddenly there was a rumble of thunder in the distance and as he was on the home stretch, the rain began to pour.

June 15, 2019 - 9:35 PM

Arriving at 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village, obviously still under construction, Mobius parked the pickup and pulled a shovel and the tree from the trailer. He began digging a hole outside the construction site that would become Loki's apartment building. Once finished, he began planting the tiny, fragile tree.

June 15, 2021 - 9:35 pm

Loki was completely soaked as he walked the last few yards to his front door. He struggled to find his keys, dropped them, and grew more and more frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. He was baffled, as thunder and lightning continued to flash across the sky, and the rain continued to fall all around him, but not on him.

He looked up.

Above him were the dense green leafy branches of a young tree that formed a canopy swaying in the rain right above Loki. It hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Loki was stunned.

June 15, 2019 - 9:37pm

Mobius smiled as he swung the shovel into the pickup's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2021 - 9:37 pm

Loki, overcome with emotion, broke into a smile and whispered to Mobius, even though he couldn't hear him, "Thank you."

Raindrops fell through the green branches as Loki danced under the tree, his face to the sky.

*********

2019 - A few days later

Casey stood on the small path in front of Mobius' house, "Wow!!!"

Mobius motioned for him to follow him inside.Casey entered, still stunned by the house.

"So, this is where you're hiding?"

Mobius replied with a smile, "Yeah.You want a beer?"

"Yeah thanks."

Mobius pulled two beers out of the fridge and they went to the chairs in front of the bay window and talked about the house for a while. Casey had lots of questions.

Casey took a sip and his face became more serious.

"Mobius. I didn't just come here to escape my pathetic existence in the city. I came to talk to you about TK and ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Mobius shook his head, "TK? Sorry Casey but no."

"I'm sure if you talked to her..." insisted Casey.

"Forget it.Ravonna doesn't want me to come back. I don't want to come back. Everyone's happier now."

Casey argued, "What about your work? Your work was awesome. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put your problems with her aside, you-"

"I said forget it." replied Mobius, this time with a sharp tone before softening, "Sorry. It's just... I like it here. And I like my job at the store."

Casey nodded and accepted the answer before asking, curious again, "Are you in a relationship with anyone?"

Mobius answered after a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, "No."

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Mobius insisted, "I...I'm not involved with anyone, okay?"

"Okay." replied Casey, who smiled playfully before continuing, "All I'm saying is that maybe you should think about the future."

Mobius began to laugh. He couldn't stop himself.

Casey looked at him as if he had gone crazy, "What?"

Mobius continued to laugh.

"What?"

**********

A few days later, with Loki's letter open in the passenger seat of his pickup, Mobius drove to the train station near Brooklyn College of Arts.

He parked, picked up the letter and got out, heading for the entrance to the station.

Around this time two years ago, I lost something.

In the Brooklyn train station.

I was going back to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is.

Then put it in the mailbox. It's your mission if you choose to accept it.

Mobius could not resist a challenge. So he found himself at that moment looking for an object he knew nothing about. He walked through the station. There were a few people. He looked for a single man and saw none. Just a few families and an elderly couple.

He continued to search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the station platform, he saw a young man with long black hair get up and get ready to board the train.

Mobius wasn't sure if it was him, but he felt deep down that he was Loki, and he was amazingly handsome. Mobius hurried through the door and onto the station platform. He was about to head towards him when he stopped.

The young man had embraced a woman who had her back to Mobius.

They kissed and said goodbye.

Neither of them noticed that Loki, for it was undoubtedly Loki, had left a book on the bench behind him. Mobius saw it, but it would be awkward to approach and interrupt the kiss. He hesitated.

The train driver announced the final boarding.

Loki separated from the woman, obviously reluctantly, and boarded the train.

The woman Loki had kissed did not move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He did not notice the book. Mobius watched him leave and once he was gone, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Loki had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen. It had definitely been Loki.

********

Loki impatiently went to the mailbox, thinking that perhaps Mobius had already been to the station.

He opened it, and was disappointed when he didn't see the book and just a little note.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE 4TH OF JULY?

Loki, a little disappointed, answered immediately on the same piece of paper and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of the little flag being raised and went back to the box and opened it. He grabbed the small paper and unfolded it.

L: Going to the fireworks, I guess.

I go every year. Why?

M: Would you like to watch them together? From the cliff. The fireworks on the lake are beautiful

L: I know, I watched them from the house the time I lived there.

You're not asking me out, are you?

M: No, no. I just thought it might be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

L: The same thing, two years apart.

M: It's better than staying home.

L: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

M: See you in 10 days then. July 4th at 10pm in front of the mailbox.

Mobius did not wait for an answer, and walked happily back to the house. Even though he had denied it, it still felt like a date of some sort.

The butterflies began to fly again.

July 4, 2019/2021 - 10:00 pm.

Two years apart, in the same place, Loki and Mobius sat next to the mailbox. Mobius brought one of the seats from the garden furniture and Loki brought an old folding camping seat in his car.

He is armed with his pad and pencil.

The strange and timeless conversation started again, always punctuated by the little flag that went up and down.

L: Did you go to the station? I never got my book.

M: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it.

By the way, there's something I wanted to ask you.

Who was the girl at the station?

Your fiancée?

Why didn't you tell me about her?

Loki thought it sounded like Mobius was jealous, but didn't want to get the wrong idea.

L: You don't tell me about your love life either.

M: Because I don't have one unfortunately.

My God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

L: I'm not married. We broke up when I moved to New York.

I'm on my own.

The fireworks just started.

M: They started here too.

I'm sure yours are better, since it's supposed to get better every year.

L: Probably. Let's enjoy the sight.

Afterwards, during the fireworks, the flag did not move for a while. Then when the grand finale was over, and the silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, making Loki jump.

M: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were so gorgeous.

Loki read these words and could not suppress a small gasp of surprise. He looked around embarrassed even though he knew for a fact that no one was there.

L: Not fair.

You saw me but I still don't know what you look like.

Mobius ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was truth night, he might as well go for it.

M: You're right. I wouldn't mind knowing what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and tell me what you think?

Loki thought about it and then looked at his watch, it was 10:43 pm, he took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous

L: Why don't you call me on July 4, 2021 at 10:44 pm

As Loki finished the last line of the "4" the phone rang.

He almost fell out of his chair.

He steadied himself with a pounding heart and picked up, "Hello?"

________

Who is on the other end of the phone...?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#lokius fic #alternative ending #no powers au #loki #mobius m mobius #loki series #lokius #loki x mobius #time husbands #timefrost #developing relationship #penpal

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foilfreak · 3 years

Text

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

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wiltking · 3 years

Text

My 2021 LGBT Reads So Far

I'm 12 books into 2021 and I'm here to talk about the best and the worst, the good the bad and the ugly. Under the Read More I'll be talking about Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel, The Prey of Gods, Silk and Steel, Maurice, and the Land Fit for Heroes Trilogy.

Content warnings for each book are included at the bottom of the page.

Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julain K. Jarboe - Short Story collection with trans characters + trans author ★★★★☆

A collection of body-horror fairy tales and mid-apocalyptic Catholic cyberpunk stories about bodily autonomy and transformation, the importance of negative emotions, unhealthy relationships, and bad situations amidst the staggering and urgent question of how to build and nurture meaning, love, and safety in a larger world/society that might not be "fixable."

This collection was more than I expected. Admittedly I'm not usually drawn to short story collections, I find them difficult to enjoy due to their abruptness and disjointed narratives. But there's not a single story here that I didn't like for some reason or other. Despite how much they vary in topic and tone, I found something to like about all of them, and I'm having a hard time picking a favorite out of the bunch. Self Care, Estranged Children of Storybook Houses, and I Am A Beautiful Bug! stood out to me the most, but each story was its own whirlwind of emotion and ideas, to the point where I feel like I can't correctly put into words why I enjoyed this collection so much. It's weird and difficult and beautiful. It's an experience - at once painful, cathartic, freeing, and discomfiting. But a joy nonetheless. The coolest thing was seeing all these different trans experiences form different angles and perspectives. I'm very interested in keeping an eye on this author's future works.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden - Adult Scifi with M/M and a Transwoman MC ★★☆☆☆

In South Africa, a new hallucinogenic drug is sweeping the streets. At the same time, the makings of AI uprising start to gain traction, and an ancient demigodess hellbent on regaining her former glory makes plans to shake things up.

I liked this book at first. It was weird, in a way that I like things to be weird. I liked the variety of characters and their intertwining paths. I liked the story and the setting. But in the second half, weirdness turned to absurdity and I found myself slowly losing interest and immersion in whatever the hell was going on. I don't want to say this was a bad book, because I still enjoyed it overall, I just think it didn't align with my tastes very well at the end. The characters were still a joy, and I have to say I'm happy to see gay and trans characters existing in these kinds of strange and interesting stories. I'm excited to see our stories expanding in this direction.

Silk & Steel by Ariana Nash - Adult M/M Fantasy ☆☆☆☆☆

I didn't deign this book with a review when I finished it because I wanted to forget it as soon as possible. This book made me lose braincells. It made me question why I keep doing this. There's not a single thing about this book that I enjoyed, except for the concept. Desperate Elvin Assassin meets Miserable Dragon Prince? Sign me up! Or so I thought. Instead I got constant sexual assault out the wazoo, a weak plot, and characters I struggled to care about. To put it simply, not my cup of tea.

Maurice by E.M. Forester - Historical M/M Romance ★★★★★

A classic. But somehow I made it this far without having read it before. I went in without expectations and very little knowledge for what the story was about. Almost immediately I was hooked, and by the time I reached the second half I couldn't put it down. While it was a challenging read at times, I adored the story. The characters. The romance. The conflicts. The tone. The ending. This book left me feeling very good and I'm so thankful it exists.

A Land Fit For Heroes trilogy by Richard K. Morgan - Adult Fantasy with a Gay Male MC. rating: its complicated

Ringil Eskiath, enlisted by his estranged mother to find his missing cousin, embarks on a grumbling journey to track her down with only the sword on his back. At the same time, the gears of a bloody prophecy jolt into motion.

I liked the first book. I really did. I loved Ringil as a broody angry sword-weilding character fueled by revenge. I loved Archidi and all her knives. Egil was kind of gross from the start but I was willing to see where his progression would go. I should have known that when the sex scenes failed to be the least bit sexy, it was probably my subconscious trying to warn me the rest of the series would be just as much of a cocktease and eventual letdown. That I would be sitting there with an aching brain, a flaccid heart, and questions that would never be answered. This is one of the most disappointing series I've read in a long time, made all the more painful due to how much I loved the first book. I genuinely don't know what Morgan was thinking. But by the end of it I couldn't stand the pretentious, vague, boring dribble that everyone was reduced to. It's just bad writing, babe.

content warnings:

everyone on the moon is essential personnel - misgendering, implied self harm

the prey of gods - R*pe, Gore, Self Harm, Misgendering, Implied Sexual Abuse of a Child, Child Abuse/Neglect, Death, Drugs, Violence

silk & steel - incest, abuse, violence, sexual assault, explicit sex

maurice - suicide ideation, homophobia

a land fit for heroes - r*pe, csa and pedophilia, homophobia, gratuitous use of the f-slur

#wilt's book reviews #lgbt fiction

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lairofsentinel · 4 years

Text

Talking about the smidgens we saw of Gale, the wizard of Waterdeep.

[Baldur’s Gate 3 Early Access Spoilers]

Updated, AGAIN, because the hell of new aspects we saw when some bugs were sorted out. Warning: all this analysis was done for game versions 4.1.83 and 4.1.84

Well, I had to rewrite all this because the explorations of dialogue options and the bugs being, somehow, solved, allowed me to see small details from Gale that stand out or end up being more than curious to me. I'll list his main features to make things short (hopefully), and useful for... eventual fics:

Gale is a char who approves any good treatment to animals (and creatures in general). He has a cat, a Library, and writes poetry sometimes.

He doesn't like gratuitous murdering which is implied in the anecdote he told us about how he stopped a massacre in a Waterdeep city inn just by buying a round to everyone. It is also implied in his approval in most situations; even in the one with the ogres having sex.

He gives you disapproval most of the time if you use violence and intimidation as your first approach in solving a situation. He prefers eloquence, diplomacy, and negotiation. However, he is flexible enough to approve a performance-intimidation in front of goblins to avoid bloodshed. Point (2) is primary. So... he truly is a pragmatic char. It's not white and black: “never use intimidation/lie” or that kind of over-simplistic view.

He likes logical and reasonable conversations. An action that earned his disapproval can be undone if the main char (MC) talks to him and explains their reasons. You can disagree with him without having approval penalties most of the time. You can question many situations and, as long as it remains a mental exercise, there are no penalties. That surprised me a lot. Most characters disapprove you if you wonder about a potential situation, but Gale no. He is the scholar, he will allow a safe space to think around things without being too judgemental. We will see if this attitude lasts in the full game. No wonder some players see in him “the Teacher” archetype. Quite so.

He was an Arch wizard while being Mystra's Chosen One, and fell from grace when she put him aside. What is hard for me to grasp is if he remained Chosen One and therefore able to cast silver-fire during that intermediate period when he stopped having Mystra's whispers and his folly with the netherese taint. We know that in that moment Mystra removed herself from his life completely. But before, she has only stopped whispering and sleeping with him. So far I understand, being her Chosen One doesn't imply sleeping with her, most of the time.

He was a teacher (not surprising, since his over-explanation vices and details such as the pronunciation of “Trashj” make us suspect it), and had some students that he could not keep longer since their ineptitudes irked him.

Unlike the stereotypical “scholar” type, he knows how to cook, since he has been doing stews for the party in the camp. He also loves baths. A bit siding with the stereotypical “scholar” type, but a nice change for a “standard adventurer” type, in which most of the time it is implied that they are stinky with “animalistic” scents and uglier descriptors. No, Gale likes his lavender-scented baths. Good.

He is an over-thinker strategist. And also a char who takes responsibility for his own mistakes to the point that, when he dies for the first time, a programmed image is activated to help anyone to revive him. Despite the fact that he is dead and can give a shit about that, he is still responsible of the catastrophe that may happen if that weird magic orb stuck in his chest erupts.

He is also forcing me to check the dictionary like no other game has done in a while... the fucker uses uncommon words a lot of the time. Smidges? really? Gale is a hard char for a non native English speaker.

We can assume that during his teenage time, he was a pretty prideful peacock to the point to be blind at the reality (well, yeah, he romanced a goddess; if that doesn't give you a hell of a ego boost...) He remembers his young self's pride with a thick level of regret. He is now a mature scholar that, for a change, does not patronise you or thinks of himself better than anyone. Sure, he over-explains a lot, but that's something that most scholars/teachers do when they are worried that, maybe, they won't be understood.

He is confident in his years of study (for that reason he is a capable wizard despite having lost Mystra's favours), but he acknowledges his limits. Which is a nice change to see in the “scholar” archetype, the typical know-it-all. He knows a lot, he knows that he knows (it would be ridiculous to hide his knowledge), but he is human, and like he says: “humans are fallible”. However, it’s more than obvious that he has a big ego for everything he does, which makes sense since he follows a motto in his life: “try to excel at everything”. High accomplished scholar lifestyle, indeed.

If you don't share the Weave with him, he will state that nights are lonesome. It seems he truly is looking for some connection with a keen fellow mind. Probably it's this loneliness which triggers his urge to see Mystra's face during the night. We also know he, in general, lives in constant fear due to the Netherese taint in his chest. So, very lonely, and very scared.

I don't know if this is his poet side unable to be switched-off or it's another implication of how he sees sexual encounters: he never says sex (at least in my many runs, he never did it). He always gets around the word: love-making, art of the body, intimacy. For a scholar who is so prone to use the technical word for everything, and has already stated he is not coy at all, the use of these metaphors make me wonder if it's because he always conceives sex as something more than mere physical pleasure. For him, it seems to come with a more emotional connection (which makes sense if we think he will only sleep with those who connected to him through the Weave). Another small detail that may confirm this is when he asks the MC if the “other night” was wonderful. If MC claims it was “fun”, Gale shows a certain degree of uneasiness by that word choice, making us infer that he certainly doesn’t see sex as “fun” but as something else, deeper.

His tadpole dreams are about Mystra (rather obvious). His most desperate desire is forgiveness. Mystra's forgiveness.

Mystra was his first love. The affair did not last long. And since soon after her abandonment he looked for the Primal Weave book and was infested by it; one could assume he has been focused on solving his problem for the rest of his life than putting some energy in romance, especially if we think about (13). It's hard to say with certainty (especially with banters like these), but since he is a char that you can only sleep with if you share a mind-connection through the Weave, it seems less plausible that he could encourage into casual relationships during all this period of his life looking for a solution to the Netherese orb. If he got previous relationships, they may have been meaningful, but clearly not enough to win over the goddess’ and his urges to see her, lol.

He did not mind Mystra having many other lovers besides him. It seems to be the same with the MC, since he will insist in sleeping with them even after the party and even after the MC slept with someone else (however, that only occurs if the romantic connection through the Weave happened.) This fact combined with (13) and (15) make me wonder if he certainly wants to be with the MC too badly, even in an open relationship. We need to see the rest of his romance to be sure.

Since he looks for forgiveness so desperately, he is a char who will forgive most mistakes made by the MC if they acknowledge them.

He is a char who knows how grey and complex situations can be. This is inferred by the way he speaks of the tiefling girl who tried to steal the idol in the Grove: “She is not innocent, but that doesn't mean she is guilty.” (of course there is a lot of self projection there). This is also implied in his (surprising) approval of raising Mayrina's husband and giving her the control wand to search for a solution in Neverwinter. That shows that he can accept the fuckest weirdest situations, recognising that “sometimes we can’t choose situations but we can try to do our best, not always having the best results”. Also self-projection.

He appreciates his privacy to the point to leave the MC if the abuse of the tadpole power continues. However, and honouring (4), you can abuse of these powers and convince him with reasons: if you don't lie to him and explain that you have a responsibility with the group to know what happens with his secret, he will understand, and despite disapproving the MC actions, will remain without major troubles.

Certainly, as long as you give him reasons and logical concepts, he can almost understand everything with no disapproval or at least little one.

Consent and negotiation are vital to him, apparently. However, this aspect reaches a flaw. He was too angry with Nettie when she almost killed the MC, and he made a short speech about how nobody has the right to decide your options for you. Yet, in his romance scene, we see that he deliberately hid his true relationship with Mystra and his bomb-condition in order to sleep with the MC. In fact, during the party, if the MC tells him that doubts if he is the one they want, Gale will drop a curious argument: “That’s because you’ve yet to find out what your’re missing” (implying that he himself is what you need), followed by his most curious “Doubt is a spoilsport. Cast it aside”. That coming from a scholar is rotten, lol. He tries every convincing argument to sleep with the MC (if they shared the moment of the Weave, of course)

This happens in every variation of the path: whether the MC sleeps with him in the party, or afterwards, Gale will always wait for sharing a night with the MC before speaking the truth. It's hard to read this aspect since, he is a char who, apparently, needs a mind-connection with his partner for intimacy (see (12) and (13)); so this terrible strategy is like his way of trying to guarantee that the MC will not abandon him. I guess there is something along those line, specially if we keep in mind the book he explained: a book which is not only about the art of the body and the night and sex, but of other things such as conversation, exploration, and acceptance of oneself and the other. He is expecting with this night to reach the MC to a certain degree of intimacy in which, despite the raw truth, the acceptance will prevail. Remembering (16), he truly wants to sleep with the MC, baaaadly. And somehow everything feels like he wants to push things in a subtle way to a certain degree of commitment. Following the concept in (12), I think he has been alone for too long, and desperately needs someone in his lonesome nights and in helping him to deal with his burden. Finding someone who connected to him through the Weave (such a personal experience for him as it is) made him a bit desperate or eager. We know his emotion for the MC may have grown over those days since the connection with the Weave. In two occasions he or the MC can ask if both of them think about that moment. Gale says yes with such enthusiasm, that it may imply...that maybe, he has been thinking about that more times than he truly wants to tell the MC. The Weave moment had such a strong effect on Gale that, if the MC spent the night with another companion and rejects Gale’s proposition later, he will trail off a sentence that implies he was convinced that the MC and he were heading into something serious and deep.

Of course, once he sleeps with the MC, he confesses the truth right afterwards, accepting--without approval penalties--the harshest responses that the MC can give. He clearly knows that such manoeuvre was truly disloyal, especially contrasting it with all his speech of consent and rights to know about the true situation one is in. In the next morning, he acknowledges it was a rotten thing to do and apologies. But this shows that his principles can be bend and even be broken when it comes to emotions. I'm still a bit wary of his emotional stability, what can I say.

Mystra is more than an ex-lover for him, it’s magic. And Magic is everything for him, even more than life. I wonder if, given the opportunity, Mystra forgives him and asks him to return to her side, would he accept it without second thoughts leaving the romanced MC? It's true he also acknowledges that all that fascination he had with the goddess was a product of his youth; he knows he was a plaything in her hands. But I don't see he got over with it. He still idealises her, as such a good poet does. Idealisation, especially when a Goddess is involved, is a terrible thing to fight against for the next partner. No matter what speech of loyalties and consent he states during the whole game, the MC knows that magic and Mystra are Gale's Achilles’ heel, and factors in which they can’t predict his behaviour.

We also know that, because his bomb-condition, he tries to take all the opportunities to enjoy the little things of life that make him human.

Gale is a straightforward and honest (mostly, let's say) char. But we can see that he prefers to be honest in most situations, except in his Achille’s heel. Even when he wanted to hide all the stuff about the bomb in his chest, he did it by explicitly warning us that he was hiding something he did not want to talk about. Which is an honest approach considering the hardcore burden he carries and the immediate rejection it can mean if the truth unfolds too quickly among strangers.

When it comes to concepts, Gale has the symbol of the storm attached to him. So far, we see he talks comparing things with storms or storm elements: his lack of knowledge to explain why they are not Mind Flayers yet: the silence before the storm; the fear that rushes into his body when the Weave orb asks him for magic to consume: the thunder of a storm reverberating in his soul, the day it will erupt: the lightning striking, the consumption of magic: water running through a sore throat, Life itself: a tempest. When he asked the player if they were a wizard, he explains that he needs an Arch wizard and compares them with a Tempest. If we see the main image of Baldur's gate 3, it's clear that his main element is electricity/storm... so... full witch-bolt-guy here.

[updated later] The Weave moment is important to romance Gale. Leaving the moment in ambiguity will give the MC another opportunity to make their intentions clear during the scene of the Loss. However, remaining vague will lock Gale into a friendship path. What happens during this scene may suggest that the ambiguity in the Weave was enough to keep Gale thinking about the romantic possibility, but he will not engage into it by his own, which confirms (15). Unless the opportunity presents itself clearly before him, he will not pursue the MC. Further details [here].

Last moment detail: Gale says “I cherish you” when he explains he will await death alone if the Netherese orb goes out of control. I was not sure if that meant something more or less than love or like (I can’t not overlook the subtle meaning of the words coming from Gale’s mouth, he is a poet and his word choices matter). Checking the dictionary I found that “cherish” (in a relationship) is defined as to hold or to treat as dear, to feel love for and to care for someone deeply and tenderly. This man went straight into a commitment relationship without thinking it twice, and without (I believe) the MC knowing it either xD.

Let's see how these characteristics shift or develop deeper once the full game is out there. Now we have to wait a lot :(

To see videos where all this stuff is inferred or explicitly said, you can check [here]

More videos added later [here] and [here]

More content of bg3 in general [here]

#baldurs gate 3 #gale #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate

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reading-while-queer · 4 years

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Ninth House, Leigh Bardugo

Rating: Mixed Review Genre: Fantasy, Mystery, Dark Academia Representation: -Bi/pan protagonist -Jewish protagonist -Latina mixed race protagonist Trigger warnings: Sexual assault (in scene), rape (in scene), CSA (in scene), graphic violence, murder, drug use, drug abuse, drugging of another person, overdose, domestic abuse, medical abuse, violence by dogs Note: Not YA

Why is it that every time I read Leigh Bardugo, I love the book with a passion...except for one thing that makes me want to tear my hair out?

Here’s what seriously impressed me about Ninth House, Bardugo’s entry into New Adult. The pacing was phenomenal. The measured, perfectly timed revelations of information had me finding excuses to listen to the audiobook - taking extra neighborhood walks, doing extra loads of laundry - because I was so hooked. Then, there’s the worldbuilding. Bardugo managed to walk a delicate line, successfully suspending disbelief while still asserting that eight Yale secret societies do secret magic rituals to the benefit of the oligarchical capitalist machine (we all kind of suspected this was the case, right?). But the best part of the book, the part that had me recommending Ninth House in more than one group chat, was, of all things, the point-of-view jumps.

Rarely are point-of-view switches the star of the show, but I was so excited to see a genuinely original, intrinsic-to-the-heart-of-the-whole-novel use of that technical tool. The point of view jumps crank the volume up on the theme of the whole book. We start with the main character, Galaxy “Alex” Stern; she is the point-of-view character for the present semester during which the principal action of the novel takes place. Her upperclassman and mentor Daniel Arlington (or “Darlington”) is the point-of-view character for the semester before - all because something happened to Darlington. Alex is telling people he’s doing a “semester in Spain,” and all the reader knows is that her explanation isn’t strictly true. The point-of-view jumps being so strict (there is never an Alex perspective chapter during last semester, and never a Darlington perspective in the present) serves to separate the two characters from each other with a really incredible emotional effectiveness. The heart of the novel, for me as a reader, was yearning for these two to be reunited - and all because Bardugo holds the two character points-of-view separate across an unbreachable temporal divide. It’s a powerfully effective technique.

But let’s backtrack. Alex is a 20-year-old high school dropout from the west coast. As the story progresses, we learn that Alex can see ghosts, which is why, despite never finishing high school or getting her GED - or even applying - Alex is a freshman at Yale - contingent on her joining the secret society called “Lethe House” as apprentice (“Dante”) to the current leader of the society, Darlington (the “Virgil”). Lethe House is the governing body of the eight Yale secret societies that practice the magic that keeps the elite in power. These secret societies make books sell, make T.V. anchors charming and compelling, and open portals to other parts of the world - when they aren’t throwing over the top Halloween parties with magic designed to alter one’s perception of reality.

Darlington, by contrast to Alex, seems to belong at Yale. He’s from an old family, and he’s preppy and well-read. Most of all, he loves Lethe House and its history of keeping the secret societies from harming people in their pursuit of magic and power. That is, until he disappears just in time for Alex, only half-trained, to investigate the murder of a girl on campus.

The first three quarters of the novel are fantastic for the reasons stated above. Bardugo’s approach to mystery writing is effective. We have half a dozen suspects, most of whom, as elite ivy league magicians, are at least guilty of some misdeed. Having all your red herrings end up somewhat culpable anyway is a good way to keep your mystery difficult to solve until the end. We were off to a good start.

Unfortunately, in the end, Bardugo made the all-too-common choice to value “surprise” over the most compelling, satisfying solution. So while the reader doesn’t see the ending coming, that is at the steep cost of the ending not being justified by the rest of the book. Bardugo even has to invent new rules of magic off the cuff to justify the ending. When the rest of the book so painstakingly developed the rules of magic in a way that made sense and never felt overly expository, undoing all that effort feels like a monumental waste. And for what did Bardugo undermine all her hard work? A mystery that the reader won’t have all the clues to solve? It’s really okay - in fact, good - if the reader can puzzle out your story. It means your story has symmetry, internal logic, or perhaps, some sort of message.

This is what had me tearing my hair out. I know exactly how I would have written the ending of Ninth House to be the perfect conclusion to a stunning book. I know exactly what the message should have been. Is it somewhat ridiculous to say that Bardugo misinterpreted the message of her own book? Perhaps. But given the out-of-left-field-ending, the theme of the book ends up being a rather cheaply bought “No matter how traumatized you are, you can be a girlboss” instead of the message that the very structure of the novel itself was pointing to since page one: one of companionship, trust, and restoration (frankly, a better message for a novel with a main character who suffers so much loss and trauma. But, sure, “girl power” is a theme...I guess...)

Here’s what I mean by the structure of the novel itself pointing to a different theme. (Spoiler warning for the rest of this paragraph). Because the point-of-view switches in the first two thirds of the novel were used by Bardugo like two magnets being held apart, the only way to create a feeling of resolution was, so to speak, putting the magnets back together: getting Darlington back into the “present.” The degree of disconnect between reader expectations and the reality of the book is comparable to picking up a romance novel only to have the two leads decide to just be friends at the end. Bardugo set expectations - akin to genre expectations - but unfortunately Bardugo kneecapped her first book in the service of the sequel.

And then there’s the trauma. Alex’s backstory wouldn’t be the same without some level of trauma; it’s an important part of her character arc. Even the explicit presence of sexual assault on the page was justified in the case of Alex’s backstory - and I think that is rarely true. But when it came to a side character’s explicit in-scene rape, which was used as a clue in the broader murder mystery rather than treated as a crime in its own right, that tipped me over into feeling the trauma in Ninth House was more excessive than necessary for character development. The resolution to that side character’s rape is oddly cartoonish - like an over-the-top prank rather than justice - and again, the only reason the rape happens to the character is to give Alex more information she needs to solve the plot. Maybe that wouldn’t bother some readers, but for me, a book has to bend over backwards to justify showing me a character being raped. Bardugo does well earlier in the book when depicting Alex’s assault; the assault is the explanation for why Alex doesn’t view magic with the same childish excitement as the rest of Yale, and it’s part of what holds her apart from the entitled secret societies. It needed to be in the book. Everything else was gratuitous.

That said, there’s one thing still to address in this roller coaster of a review, and that is: wait, is this a queer book? I had gone into it assuming that it would be, mostly because all my queer friends were reading it. And the answer is….kind of? Knowing Bardugo’s history with putting queer characters in her books, I’m going to assume she wasn’t baiting when she had Alex claim to have loved a girl in her backstory. Which, in the context of the rest of the novel, would make Alex bi or pan. As a book that a lot of queer fans of Bardugo’s YA have read, or will read, it feels appropriate to review it here.

This was a mixed review from start to finish, but to finish up: if you are thinking about reading Ninth House, go for it! There is so much to like about this book. Take to heart that if you read and liked Bardugo’s handling of sexual assault in her YA titles, you should be prepared to be surprised by Ninth House. It is not the same. I would not have called her handling of sexual assault in Six of Crows, for instance, restrained - but compared to Ninth House, it absolutely is. Despite my strongly worded feelings about the ending, Bardugo left room to redeem herself in the sequel (which, if you ask me, is why the ending was so bad in the first place...). I for one will definitely be reading the sequel the second it comes out.

#leigh bardugo #ninth house #fantasy #mystery #dark academia #not ya #mixed review #bi #reviews only #protagonist of color #jewish protagonist

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

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Walk Me Home - Ch 4

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 2702

Author’s Note: At last!!! I almost didn’t make it, but here I am, literally in the eleventh hour (well, okay, three minutes to go until the eleventh hour, but still)! All the thanks to @mskathywrites , @fang, and @cracksinthewalls for editing, revision, flailing, and all that stuff I need. I still love this story, and I hope y’all will, too!

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 4

Kimber knows she’s staring, but she can’t stop herself. His fingers, rough and strong from years of the hardest work, brush circles over her wrists that send her pulse fluttering through her veins. So many emotions flicker behind his eyes, some of them mirroring her own, some of them alien and unreadable. So many years have passed, so much water under the bridge, as the saying goes.

The thing is, he was completely right earlier. She could have called him, once she learned who he and his family were, once she found a way.

But he had left town with her phone number memorized. He was in a much more logical position to get in touch, and right away, at that. And he never did. She knows he had a good reason, a completely reasonable one that would make sense if she just asked him.

But she’s scared and drained and confused and more than a little ashamed, and she’s tired of making a fool of herself.

She drops her eyes before the tears fully form and murmurs a quiet thanks as she loosens her hands from his grip. Though walking away is not what she wants to do, she forces her legs straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a firm click.

She’ll feel better after a hot shower. That’s all she needs, a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. They’ll figure this out tomorrow, and then Dean and his brother will ride off into the sunset, and everything will go back to normal. She’ll go back to her classes as usual, helping out the occasional hunter or scholar with some lore, and she’ll bury all these feelings behind her heart again, drown them so deep they’ll never dream of resurfacing.

At least, that’s the fairy tale she tells herself as the scalding stream washes the saltwater from her cheeks.

She actually does feel moderately restored by the time she steps out of the bathroom. She feels a little ridiculous in Dean’s clothing. The sleeves of the t-shirt hang past her elbows, and the pants legs are rolled up several times to keep her from tripping.

At least the waist has a drawstring, she thinks as she rounds the corner back into the room. She pulls the towel from her hair, shaking it out a little just as Dean looks up from his laptop at the small table. His mouth opens, eyes widening. She’s not sure because of the poor lighting of the room, but his face seems to color a little as his eyebrows lift.

She is suddenly, acutely aware that she did not put her bra back on when getting dressed in his white t-shirt that is probably not nearly as thin as it feels.

Dean clears his throat, turning back to his computer, swallowing whatever comments have entered his mind. Kimber can’t decide whether to laugh or blush even harder and settles for the third option of hanging her office clothes up so they can air out a little before tomorrow.

With nothing else to do, she drops onto the edge of the bed gracelessly, feeling every minute of the last few weeks catching up with her. Uncertainty and fear claw at her, ripping away what little defenses she has left. The image of the mutilated doll flashes before her eyes, red paint splashed luridly on her favorite comforter. Her lungs clench, and she sags on the mattress.

She presses her fingers hard against her face. Acid burns at the back of her throat, bitter and biting. Her fingernails are just beginning to dig into her scalp when she registers the click of the laptop closing. Half a moment passes, then the bed dips beside her.

She doesn’t consciously decide to move; her body simply molds itself to his side as Dean slides his arm around her back. He turns into the embrace, his other arm gathering her tightly against him. His cheek comes to rest on top of her head. The silence between them is the comfort she needs, his warmth and solidity the anchor that keeps her from drifting too far into panic.

When he finally speaks, his words rumble through her nerves, settling heavy and soothing in her chest.

“We’re gonna get this son of a bitch, Kimber. I’m sorry they got into your house, but I’m glad I was with you. I…” She rises gently with his deep inhalation, pressed as she is against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

She hears what he isn’t saying, and her hands drop from her face, her arms slipping around his middle as her eyes close.

“Me, too, Dean.”

...

“That pumpkin pie was somethin’ else,” Dean murmured. His arms were folded behind his head as he stretched out on top of Kimber’s bedspread. He crossed his ankles, settling in like he belonged there. His thin t-shirt stretched across his wiry frame, jeans lying enticingly low on his hips, and she could just see a glimpse of pink toe through a hole in one of his socks.

A pleasant, off-balancing thrill skipped down Kimber’s spine, twirling through her stomach and making her head spin a little. Dean’s jacket was hung carefully on her desk chair, his boots lined up on the floor underneath, and his button-up overshirt folded neatly on the desk.

Her parents had gone to bed long ago, and she had snuck Dean in the back door. After their exhilarating but chilled stroll that afternoon, she’d decided against the treehouse. Dean had been amused but willing, although he’d had one stipulation that had nearly made her laugh aloud.

“We get caught and your folks kick me out, you’re bringing me your mom’s leftovers to school every day for breakfast. I’m not missin’ out on home cooking just because you can’t stand to be away from me.”

Now, seeing him so comfortable on her bed, like he just belonged...Kimber knew the smile on her face was on the goofier end of sappy, but she couldn’t help it. He was just so damned…

“Cute,” he said, smirking up at her. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’m not cute. I’m adorable.”

She sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine, you’re gorgeous, adorable, vital, the absolute most. Now close your eyes so I can change.” Smirk still firmly in place, Dean dutifully closed his eyes. She knew, despite the short time she’d known him, that she could trust Dean to keep his eyes shut.

She spent a few seconds regretting the lack of any silky, dramatic nightgowns or cute, sexy little matching pajama sets. Oh, well; couldn’t have everything. She stripped quickly, tossing her school clothes into the hamper and slipping on her “Aaahh!!! Real Monsters” t-shirt. Thick socks and plaid pajama pants completed her night ensemble.

That she had just been naked (however unseen said nakedness had been) in front of Dean Winchester had not escaped her. She licked her lips, cheeks warm, and turned slowly back to the bed. He lay still, chest rising and falling steadily, and she marveled, not for the first time, that he was here, in her room. Just for her.

Her pulse jumped, her lungs tightened, and for just a second, Kimber panicked.

“You can, uh...you can open your eyes. I’m gonna go brush my teeth; I’ll be right back.”

She fled silently down the hallway, brushed her teeth in record time, and then stared in the mirror. Her hair was just her hair, nothing amazing or horrifying; no point trying to fix that before bed. Maybe…make-up?

“Kimber. What the hell?” she muttered. “You’re not seducing him, just be cool. Jeez. You can’t wear make-up to bed.”

She splashed cold water on her face, scrubbing her skin dry with a hand towel more forcefully than necessary. She gave her reflection another once-over and took a deep breath.

“You’re his choice, too,” she reminded herself. “Just chill.”

She found him exactly as she’d left him, completely relaxed on the bed, eyes still closed. She thought for a moment that he might have fallen asleep. Kimber wasn’t sure if she felt more disappointment or relief.

“You left in a little bit of a hurry,” he murmured, eyes still closed, and she started. “Everything okay?” She almost put him off, could feel the brush-off on her lips, but his eyes slid open, pinning her on the spot. She got the eerie sense that he would know, that he already knew she was trying to put on a front, and she deflated a little.

“I’m nervous,” she finally admitted. The heat in her cheeks turned up a few degrees, spreading down her neck, and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I’ve never...snuck a guy to my room before. I just...this is mostly new to me, but with you, I want...I don’t know.”

Without a word, Dean slid from the bed and crossed the room, his mesmerizing eyes never leaving hers. He stopped a few feet away and waited, his arms open. With the bed suddenly out of the equation, Kimber felt a hidden knot of anxiety untie in her chest.

She let out a breath and stepped into his embrace, her arms circling his waist in a way that felt easy and right. Dean’s lips pressed a warming kiss to the crown of her head.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “This is your room, your space, but even if it wasn’t-” He paused, leaning back and brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Kimber, look at me.”

She did, and his earnest expression left no room to doubt his next words. It barely left room for breathing.

“ ‘M not here to make you feel uncomfortable or scared. I’m here because you want me to be. The second that stops, the second I make you feel something you don’t want, that’s it. Period. Does that work for you?”

His eyes, so plaintive and weathered in that moment, cut right to her heart. Never in her life had Kimber felt so safe, so protected, and so very sad. She couldn’t think of any words that lived up to the magnitude of what Dean had just said, so she simply squeezed him tighter, pressing her face against the side of his neck.

“Can you stay?” she asked. She knew he had obligations, probably needed to get back to his brother or at least check in with his dad. She felt terribly selfish in her warm, safe house with her parents right down the hall. Still, she asked.

“Yeah, I can stay for a while.” His smile, soft and open, laid her doubts to rest. They settled onto the bed, fumbling a little awkwardly to find a position they both liked. There was some bumping, mumbled apologies, until they finally sorted out a comfortable twist of limbs that didn’t set her heart beating out of her ribs or threaten to cut off blood flow to anything important.

She relaxed by increments, her cheek resting on his collarbone. He hugged her close with his left arm, his right hand combing slowly through her hair over and over. The silence settled around them like a second blanket, soothing and heavy.

“What do you want to do when you finish school, Kimber? College?”

“Probably,” she murmured. “I don’t know specifically, but I like research.”

He snorted, and she poked him in the side.

“Shut up, you jerk, I do. And I like sharing the information. I like helping people. I don’t really want to be a teacher, but maybe I can find something where I can do all of that.”

Dean resumed combing her hair, having paused when she poked him, and they settled a little more closely together.

“Dean?”

“Mmm?”

She blinked slowly, sleep pulling at her eyelids. Her thoughts spun out languidly, losing their urgency as his warmth seeped through the thin fabric of her pajamas.

“How about you?”

His answer came quickly, rehearsed and without thought. “Join the family business. Dad’s been training me for years. Don’t have a lotta choice, but I know I’ll be good at it. Was raised for it.”

Her fingers crept up, her eyes staying closed for longer and longer periods between blinks. She slid her thumb over his chin, just brushing the line of his bottom lip before sliding slowly up his jaw.

His words weren’t emotionless, but they were automatic. There was so much he never said, and she hated to push him, afraid he would just leave or shut down, but…

“But what do you want?” She persisted, drowsiness interfering with her usual restraint. “Who do you want to be?”

He was silent for so long, she nearly gave in to fatigue. She drifted on the edge of unconsciousness, fingers stroking through the silky strands of hair behind his ears. She felt his face turn, his lips press against her wrist.

“I want...this,” he said. Even half-asleep, she couldn’t mistake the raw longing behind his words. “I want...I want to work a boring, regular job and come home to someone who missed me all day as much as I missed her. I want my kids to cannonball into my legs so hard they knock me over. I want…”

His words choked off, and she stilled her fingers against his cheek, waiting for him to continue.

“I want a house. No...I...when I was little, Dad would come home, and he would just...sweep Mom up sometimes, swing her around, when they weren’t fighting. Even when they were, he’d do it sometimes anyway just to get her to laugh.”

She felt his face shift beneath her hand, but his smile didn’t feel quite right, and she moved closer. His arm tightened around her back, and he smoothed the palm of his free hand down to cup her jaw.

“I want a home. I want to be a dad, a husband. I want a family.”

She felt childish, shallow next to the depth of his simple declaration. Dean wanted what she had, what she took for granted every day of her life. This was the first time he’d spoken of his mother, and though curiosity burned hot inside her, she didn’t dare ask further questions, afraid she’d break the spell of the moment.

Dean’s voice dropped until she could feel it more than hear it, his lips pressing softly against her forehead.

“I want to come home and hold someone until I fall asleep every night. I want to wake up to her and know that my whole day, every day, is gonna be just that, all over again.”

She lifted her face to his then, and in the darkness of her bedroom she could only just make out the barest lines of his features. Their noses brushed, his hand gently pulling at the back of her head, and their lips met. His cheek was damp under her fingertips, and her heart clenched.

She pulled his head down, brushing her lips over the tears trickling down his cheekbones more by feel than by sight. Both his arms came around her then, pulling her against his chest as he buried his face in his hair. They breathed together, memorizing each others’ scents, heartbeats, rhythms as the night crept by.

The moment didn’t pass so much as gradually relax until Kimber felt him shift beneath her, smoothly sliding her off his chest and down to the pillows. He kissed her temple, and her face automatically turned to his, chasing his lips. She felt him chuckle against her mouth.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I gotta go. Need to check on Sammy, make sure he got dinner, did his homework, all that mess. I’ll see you tomorrow. Walk you to school?”

She nodded, humming her agreement even as she blindly reached for him. Something soft brushed against her fingers, and she automatically pulled it down, cuddling against the fabric.

“Hold onto that for me. I’ll get it back from you sometime.” She felt a kiss press to her forehead, and then the click of her door closing. She breathed in, Dean’s scent surrounding her as she slipped under again, his button-up shirt pillowed under her cheek and tangled in her fingers.

…

Chapter 5

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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Strange the Dreamer. By Laini Taylor. New York: Little, Brown Books, 2017.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: YA fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, Strange the Dreamer #1

Summary: The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around— and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever. What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving? The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo’s dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? And if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: blood, violence, drug use, rape, sexual slavery, abduction and imprisonment

Overview: I really enjoyed Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy, so I decided to give her new work a go. Overall, I also really enjoyed Strange the Dreamer because it had a lot of things that are characteristic of Taylor’s writing that I love - lush, lyrical prose; tragic, star-crossed love; a political conflict involving otherworldly creatures. The reason why I’m giving this book 4 instead of 5 stars mainly has to do with the pacing and the way events played out. There wasn’t anything wrong, I think, with the way Taylor handled her story - it’s just that I felt like things started to rush to a close too quickly, and I would have liked to spend more time in the book exploring character emotions.

Writing: Taylor’s prose tends to fall into two categories: lyrical and descriptive or straight-forward and economical. Part 1 of this book is more lyrical; the metaphors are more fantastical and the prose evokes a sense of longing and fascination. Taylor really captures the feeling of being immersed in a library, surrounded by stories, as well as what it’s like to have a dream (not a dream in your sleep - more like a goal or a wish that has a small or nonexistence likelihood of coming true). Part 1 was probably my favorite part of the book for this reason, as subsequent sections tended to lose that lyrical quality and fall into a style more typical of YA books.

Taylor’s pace is also fairly well-done in that I didn’t feel like I was being rushed or that I was plodding through the book. The only thing I would change in terms of pacing is the book’s ending; I felt a lot of things were dropped on the reader all at once, and though they were foreshadowed earlier in the book (which I very much appreciated), I tend not to like endings where too much happens.

Before I close this section, a couple of notes on descriptions and worldbuilding: though I know teenagers have sexual urges, I was a little put off by the descriptions of teenagers’ bodies in certain places. I can remember a few instances where Taylor describes the look of one character’s breasts, and though it wasn’t gratuitous, I didn’t like that these descriptions were included. I also thought the worldbuilding detail of “women get tattoos on their bellies as a rite of passage/coming of age marker when they become fertile and Sarai longs for one of her own” was a little uncomfortable. It made me feel like the world Taylor built was concerned with showcasing female reproductive capacity, and that just seems exclusionary. While it could have worked if the story was more about pushing back against reproductive regulation or exploring what such tattoos would mean for trans characters, as the book stands, that doesn’t really happen, so it was a weird detail that I felt distracted from the main themes.

Plot: This book primarily follows Lazlo Strange - an orphan who dreams of finding the lost city of Weep - and Sarai - the daughter of a dead god and a human who must hide her existence in order to stay alive. Lazlo is surprised one day when some inhabitants of Weep - led by someone called “the Godslayer” - show up in his library, asking for assistance from the land’s greatest scientists. Though Lazlo isn’t a scientist, he is the most knowledgeable person about Weep and its culture, so the Godslayer elects to take him along. Meanwhile, Sarai and several other demigods live in a secluded Sanctuary, hiding from the inhabitants of Weep so that they won’t be slain on account of their parentage.

Without spoiling anything (which is kind of hard, since there is a lot that happens), I will say that I really liked the central conflict of this book. Taylor does a good job of setting up a problem with no black-and-white solutions; it seems like everyone had a legitimate reason for acting the way they do, and no matter what happens, someone will be hurt.

But perhaps the thing I appreciated most about the plot was that Taylor never sets up a surprise twist that comes out of nowhere. I feel like I’ve read a lot of YA books that drop a bomb on the reader with no set up, and I personally feel like such twists make the story feel less cohesive. Taylor sets up all her reveals and twists by dropping hints early and frequently, and rather than make the story feel dull, I felt like they made the end emotionally fulfilling.

If I had one criticism of the plot it would be that the romance doesn’t feel genuine. Lazlo and Sarai seem to fall in love with each other too quickly, which made it seem like they got together because they just hadn’t had opportunities to meet other people. I didn’t see what they saw in each other aside from looks and special qualities like “oh, he’s able to share my dreams” or “she was kind to me when so many other people weren’t.” I wanted more out the romance, like Sarai falling for Lazlo’s kindness and Lazlo falling for Sarai’s compassion towards those who would harm her. Maybe there was some of that, but it was definitely overshadowed by lengthy descriptions of kissing, which I wasn’t much a fan of. I also wasn’t really a fan of the “dates” that they went on; some parts were cute, but overall, they dragged.

Characters: Lazlo, one of our protagonists, is likeable in that he’s pretty much the embodiment of a lot of book nerds. He starts off shy, completely absorbed with fairy tales and folklore, and loves to roam the abandoned stacks in his library. What I liked most about him, though, was his willingness to help people even if they treat him poorly. For example, there’s a character named Theryn Nero who is basically a Science Bro. He’s rich, beloved by everyone, and gets famous for cracking the secret of alchemy. While he puts himself up as the lone genius, he was actually aided by Lazlo and takes sole credit for a lot of things that Lazlo proved to be key in discovering. Lazlo, though annoyed, never lets his feelings get in the way of helping Nero when the greater good is at stake, and I really admired that.

If I had any criticisms of Lazlo, it would be that I wish his “dreamer” status or knowledge base was put to better use. After Lazlo gets to Weep, he isn’t quite as interesting as he was before, probably because he no longer needs to use his vast knowledge of stories to make his way through the world.

Sarai, our other protagonist, is fairly sympathetic in that all her problems feel undeserved. She is forced to stay locked away in a hidden Sanctuary in order to protect herself and her little found family (composed of other demigods), and though it’s for the best, it also feels stifling. I really liked that Sarai was not single-mindedly fixated on revenge for the things that happened in her past. Without spoiling anything, I will say that something happened which put the demigods and inhabitants of Weep in conflict with one another, and there is no easy solution that would guarantee that the demigods stay alive. Sarai has a lot of dreams like Lazlo - of finding family, of living a normal life, of living among the humans - but it’s not really viable for her, and instead of letting hate consume her, she tries to think up other ways of existing.

Sarai’s “family” is also charming. The group consists of 5 demigods who are the last remaining offspring of the slain gods, and all of them feel fairly complex. They all possess some kind of magical “gift”: there’s Sarai (who can produce supernatural “moths” that allow her to enter people’s dreams), Ruby (a girl who can turn herself into flames), Feral (the only boy, and he can summon clouds), Sparrow (a girl who can manipulate plants), and Minya (a girl who can make ghosts do her bidding). I liked that these characters had different personalities that often put them in conflict. Ruby is boy-crazy and seems to be obsessed with sex. Sparrow is more passive but has sweet moments where she makes a “flower cake” for Ruby’s birthday and braids Sarai’s hair. Minya is completely consumed by her desire for revenge, and it presents some real barriers to finding a solution to the group’s problems.

The supporting characters down in Weep are also fairly compelling. The Godslayer is sympathetic in that he doesn’t revel in his heroic image or title; instead, he feels complex and seemingly warring emotions tied to guilt over what happened to Weep and his role in it almost 20 years prior to the events of this book. The Godslayer’s companions are also sympathetic and have emotions that are easy to understand, and I loved that they seemed to take to Lazlo so quickly. They welcome all outsiders with open arms, but they have a soft spot for Lazlo, which I liked because it meant that he didn’t have to face bullying or gatekeeping from people he had longed to meet his entire life.

The inhabitants of the world outside of Weep were interesting. There’s Theryn Nero, who seemed like he would be a primary antagonist but doesn’t have enough “screen time” to truly be a threat. I liked that his conflict with Lazlo was low-key - it was intense enough to be annoying, but no so intense that their rivalry consumed the whole story or put petty emotions above the greater good. The other “scientists” who follow the Godslayer back to Weep served their purpose; not all of them had rich, complex lives, but they didn’t really need to because if they did, the story would feel crowded.

Overall, there weren’t any characters I disliked, per se. While I do wish Lazlo got to develop differently, there wasn’t much wrong with his character, and I think all of the main players had interesting backstories and motivations, and I appreciated the layer of complexity they all had. I do wish there had been more queer characters though. There is one wlw couple, though they aren’t too prominent in the grand scheme of things. Of course, that could change, as there is a whole second book to go through, but I wish some of the demigods had been lgbt+ so it felt like Taylor’s world wasn’t overwhelmingly straight and cis.

TL;DR: Despite some pacing problems at the end and minor details that didn’t fit my personal tastes, Strange the Dreamer is a lush, evocative fantasy about the power of dreams. Readers who enjoy epic fantasy and stories about gods, star-crossed love, and will probably adore this book.

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faejilly · 4 years

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Dear Yuletide Writer:

Hello my lovely! Thank you so much for enjoying one (or more, I suppose) of my tiny or new fandoms as much as I do. 💖

General Likes:

Found Family

Competence Porn

Partners-in-Crime (or crime-solving)

Case or Heist-fic

Domestic/Curtain-fic that focuses on how well they work/live together, that they’re friends as well as relatives/partners/lovers/etc. (Basically these people should LIKE each other as well as love each other, whether that’s familial or romantic.)

Hurt/Comfort

Character studies

The Best Revenge Is Living Well

I generally prefer my sex and violence levels to be canon-appropriate: terrible injury in a Ready-or-Not or Atomic Blonde fic would obviously make sense. But while there’s plenty of murder in Astreiant, we don’t (in general) linger in the graphic violence. Conversely, while there’s no explicit sex in Astreiant or the Raksura books, clearly they *have* sex, so that’d be fine in a fic. It’d be weird to write about sex at the Summit for 7kpp though, except maybe for Woodly?

Best judgement is fine, I’m okay with E rated fic, (except for Enola Holmes, no sex or romance please) but would prefer no hard kinks, since it’s hard to articulate preferences for those in a letter to a stranger without going even longer than usual.

DNWs:

mundane/modern AUs

a/b/o or mpreg

MCD

ANY Sexual violence, implied, threatened, historically referenced, or on screen.

Fandom Specifics:

Enola Holmes (movie)

I adore almost all versions of Sherlock Holmes, (the Tomato was A Delight, and the Mouse Is A Classic), and this one is no exception! I loved the way that Enola didn’t actually have much character development because she knew who she was right from the beginning and what she needed, she just had to actually go for it, but the people around her needed the push.

HOWEVER. While I love they Dysfunctional Family Holmes (and would adore it as a backdrop in whatever way you see fit) my prompts are actually for Edith, because her two scenes shone in an already bright and clever movie. Whether it’s remembering her past with bb!Enola, or how they become closer friends now after the movie or them watching Sherlock manage to acknowledge in his side-ways glancing sort of way that maybe Edith & Enola were right about him and he’s thinking about how he looks at things more now?

Tea and gossip? Letters & codes? Carefully not discussing whatever Eudoria is up to? SPARRING?!?

I am not picky.

Ready or Not

I just really adore Grace, they do such a good job with her dawning realization of what she's gotten into turning into her ability to outlast them all. Anything focusing on that would be great. (Orphan Grace determined to build her own family? At what point preparing for the wedding did she start to wonder if maybe something was off? Because once it gets going, she isn’t in denial about it for very long, so at some level... could she tell there was something more wrong here than the usual family dysfunction?)

Something with Mr. Le Bail's opinion on Grace herself (and/or the Le Domas' fall in contrast to her survival) would be awesome, but not required (thus why he's not in the character request).

I would also ADORE an aftermath fic, what it's like to be the sole survivor, the only heir, what she does with the morning (and lifetime) after. (Does Mr. Le Bail keep an eye on her? Does he try to offer her a deal? Does she ever stop looking for him out of the corner of her eye, or does she let him go along with the rest of them?) Show me how this lady made it.

Atomic Blonde

I don’t really have any more for prompts than that line in my sign-up. I love Lorraine/Delphine, and I like how deeply & purposefully unreliable Lorraine’s version of things is, and I would love an author that played with that and gave them More Adventures in whatever way they wanted.

Astreiant

The thing I’ve always loved about these books is the fact that Astreiant the city is as much a character as any of the people, so I’d love anything that focuses on that feeling of home they’ve found, even here in such a complicated place. (They’re complicated people, after all.) While I adore Istre, and would be fine with a fic about how he and Eslingen learn to be friends because of the overlap of their connections to Rathe, I would also be here for something that’s just Philip/Nico and the way they settle into each other, the ways they balance their jobs and each other, just anything about their lives together.

(This is really the fandom I’d most love curtain-fic for, just because the books themselves by necessity don’t linger in their relationship as much as the current politics/case. Not that I’d be against another case! I am always happy for more of those, too. *laughs*)

Raksura

I love how the Raksura are never once, even for a moment, human. They’re a lovely and amazing different species! I enjoy that! Definitely please lean into that.

But my absolute favorite thing is when Moon is exasperated by stupid Raksura politics or etiquette and another Raksura is exasperated by his refusal to “behave” and they’re both right and equally they will never agree on this. I enjoy it every damn time.

Whether that thing is him flinging himself into battle (and surviving, barely, because he’s good at that but it’s seldom pretty) or something about the different Consorts in Indigo Cloud and how terribly (wonderfully!) dissimilar they are when you stick them in a room together, or Jade awkwardly adoring Moon while also wanting to smack him upside the head, or Stone feeling every single damn one of his years every time Moon Does A Thing, or Chime starting to understand why Stone is Like That because he is now also very tired?

All good.

I feel like Moon is odd in that you could either do the Raksuran version of curtain-fic about manners at tea & playing with babies OR half-feral battles-to-the-death but there’s a not a lot that fits in-between and that is absolutely part of what I like about him. But also he’s totally got a great life now by the end of the books and that is giving the Fell the biggest FU and I like that too.

7KPP

I really adore the relationships amongst and between the NPCs in this game, as much as the ones the PC can build herself along the way. Beyond my favorites Penelope & Cordelia & Avalie, I just really like to dive into the entire setting: I would be especially interested in something “inside” one particular faction and showing how they do (or do not) get along, whichever one might jump out as interesting.

How awful is it in a room with all the Revaire delegates at the same time?

What do the Isle natives do when the delegates aren’t watching?

How does Ana prevent gratuitous stabbing when that’s also how she wants to deal with things?

Corval Politics? Enduring Blain? Jaslen making everything worse? (Zarad carefully laughing at only the right moments or the absolute most wrong ones?)

How on earth do Avalie & Lyon survive each other and their diametrically opposed viewpoints on politics and the Summit? (Is General Falon as eternally exhausted as I would be dealing with the both of them all the time?) WTF do the other delegates do trying to get along with Avalie and Lyon stealing the spotlight?

How did Emmet & Yvette meet? Are the other Arland delegates as obnoxious as that one guy at dinner, or do they have some quiet lovely souls hiding behind all those manners?

PIRATE SHENANIGANS? (Poor Cordelia avoiding the pirate shenanigans?)

What do the other Wellin delegates think of their royal siblings? What does Lisle really think of their Grand Duke? (How much of his protective behavior is shielding Penelope from their own people vs the Summit? Or is guarding his Princess one of Woodly’s lines, and thus he can help with that? WHO KNOWS? I would like to.)

tl;dr: I can ramble a lot! I like knowing why people like each other and are good at things! Happy endings are great & greatly appreciated! That’s really the most important parts.

Anon messaging is on, if you want to ask me weird questions about tiny fandoms! I LOVE YULETIDE! (I hope you enjoy yourself too.)

#yuletide #author letter #jilly rambles

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grrlinthefireplace · 5 years

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Hey so I’ve been seeing you post a lot about La Casa de Papel recently. What exactly is it? It looks kinda interesting.

Thank you so much for asking!

I am delighted beyond reason to have the opportunity to tell you - and by extension the entire world - why this show has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and legitimately healed my soul after this particularly soul-crushing season of Grimdark White Man Television almost broke me as a human being.

I will attempt to keep this as spoiler-free as I possibly can, because this is a show that should be experienced in the moment, but in a nutshell, La Casa de Papel is a heist show set in present-day Madrid which follows both a found family of thieves who rob the Royal Mint of Spain, and the law enforcement officials on the outside who are chasing them.

If that is enough for you, go right to your TV or computer, fire up the ol’ Netflix, and don’t waste any more time.

If, however, you need a little more, here are the top five things I flail about to every single person in my life to convince them they need to start watching this show like immediately and then come back and tell me all about it.

For visual flair, we’ll intersperse them with some gifs of ladies, because I know my audience.

5. character driving plot > plot driving character.

You know that infuriating thing lazy TV writers do where, in order to to hurry up and get to the big explosion or battle scene or dragon attack or whatever, which is the only bit they really care about, they handwave away the whole concept of motivation and make some character do something that any halfway-attentive viewer will immediately clock that they would never actually do?

There is none of that bullshit here.

In its simplest form, the plot of La Casa de Papel is as follows: a brilliant criminal mastermind devises a heist which cannot possibly go wrong, and then we proceed to watch all the ways in which it goes wrong.

This is a fantastic setup for an action story, made even more breathlessly exciting by strategic use of my favorite heist movie plot device (as perfected by Ocean’s Eleven): namely, “scene where it looks like our crime heroes have been outsmarted and are now threatened by a completely unforeseen disaster” immediately followed by “flashback to the team prepping for the heist where we learn that of course they prepared for this exact scenario.”

But from time to time, things do actually go wrong (as they must, or else there would be no story); and, when they do, it is never because you can tell a writer just wanted to write a scene where bullets go flying, and didn’t care how he got there. These characters are so clear, their behavior so consistent, that when gasp-worthy plot twists happen, they happen because of course that character, in this exact scenario, would do that exact thing.

I’m telling you, I came to this show for a ship (more on that in a minute) and I stayed for a swooning, heart-eyes writer crush on the impeccably-designed plot structure and characterization.

4. High stakes, low gore.

Tone-wise, on a sliding scale of Heist Film Intensity where a really fluffy episode of Leverage is a 1, Reservoir Dogs is a 10, and the Ocean’s franchise is somewhere in the 3-4 range, I would place La Casa at a 5 or a 6, which is perfect for me. I love action, suspense, drama and adventure, but I hate gratuitous violence (especially when it’s pointless and masturbatory and doesn’t contribute anything to the plot) and have a very low tolerance for blood and gore. So I kept waiting for the story to eventually take a hard left turn into Tarantino Land, until eventually it was all just one huge pile of dead bodies, and was genuinely surprised when it didn’t.

This is how I learned just how badly my brain has been fucked up by lazy showrunners who think shock deaths are the only way to raise stakes. During the first season of this show, before I had figured out that it was a Flawless Gem of Television Which So Far Has Not Once Disappointed Me, there were probably a dozen moments where I was absolutely convinced that some character was about to be gruesomely killed for shock value … and I was wrong every single time.

Reader, it was fucking wild.

Every single time I was convinced that person A was going to shoot person B in the head because blah blah maximum angst over here in this part of the story and then it will motivate person C to do this other thing, the show did the hard work of finding a smarter, more unexpected direction to take that character’s story. That means that when deaths do come along - and there are a couple - they feel genuinely earned, and they matter deeply to the story and to us.

3. I would die for these women.

This show loves women. Like it truly, authentically, uncompromisingly loves women in all our fucked-up messy glorious complexity. There are no “types” or cliches here; no one is forced to be only one thing. Fuck your one-dimensional Strong Female Characters, lazy writers.

For one thing, on many shows you might be lucky if you get maybe one mom who is given a personality and a story outside of motherhood. Often, on shows written by men, the fact of her motherhood diminishes her strength or her agency. On this show, nearly every one of the central female characters is both a mom and an action hero simultaneously. Seriously. By season 3 there are four different battle moms. They’re all different, they’re not all on the same side, they have different perspectives, and their role as mother impacts the story differently, but that’s the joy of having a whole lot of different kinds of women - no one has to be everything to everyone.

These women are complicated. They laugh, they cry, they crack dirty jokes, they get laid, they have babies, they fight, they make mistakes, they fall in love, they grow. Men pull sexist shit and they shut it the fuck down. Some of them have love stories, some of them don’t, but they are never defined by or triangulated around relationships with men. They get to have relationships with each other. All of them are excellent at their jobs.

Tokyo is the kind of hot mess antihero protagonist we’ve been watching middle-aged white men play for decades.

Allison is such a realistic teenage girl it’s genuinely painful to watch.

Monica has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen on television, this is not a drill.

Alicia is terrifying. (A pregnant black ops interrogator! ON WHAT OTHER FUCKING SHOW!?!??)

Nairobi is unlike any other character you’ve seen on TV before; she’s got a little bit of Parker from Leverage, a little bit of Raven Reyes from The 100, but she’s entirely her own creature and you will fall in love with her instantly.

And Raquel. Oh, my love, my angel, my hero, Inspector Raquel Murillo. Love of my goddamn life. A fierce, kickass hostage negotiator swimming upstream against a tide of workplace misogyny who sometimes has to make the frustrating little male-appeasing compromises we all have to make to get through the workday. A beautiful, sexy, powerful heroine over 40 whose femininity isn’t diminished based on some bullshit notion that, for example, pairing your tough-bitch suit and gun holster with red toenails and a lacy blouse detracts from your strength. A loving mom and daughter who has to juggle raising a small child and caring for an aging parent with the stress of, you know, trying to stop the biggest robbery in the history of Spain. A domestic violence survivor (TW for those who need it; nothing is ever shown onscreen, but it’s discussed several times) who is given the space to discuss the things that have happened to her and how she has worked through them with such dignity, accuracy and respect that you can tell the writers did their homework.

This is a show where you can tell there are women in the writers’ room.

2. The Professor and Raquel. I don’t want to spoil a single thing for you here except to say that I myself was lured into this show by the promise of electric sexual chemistry between a criminal mastermind and the police inspector hunting him down, and my God I was not disappointed.

1. Love.

This show came into my life at a period where I was so weary of cynicism on television - so fucking furious at showrunners who dangle hope in front of us and then crush it, who only care about building anything if they can tear it down later, who treat love and fun and joy and hope and family and happiness like they’re intellectually lesser than grimdark nihilism with no soul - that I was honestly kind of broken by it. I was just so. fucking. tired. Tired of “the way we show this heroine is strong is to kill off her love interest.” Tired of “sorry but all this rape and murder is NECESSARY because of REALISM” (particularly rich when coming from shows featuring evil A.I.’s or dragons and ice zombies). Tired of getting invested in relationships - whether ships or friends or found families - only to realize that the show I was watching was always going to sacrifice character to force plot mechanics into place, and those relationships were never going to get the kind of care and focus I wanted them to get.

But that is not this show.

The single most revolutionary thing, to me, about La Casa de Papel - the thing that sets it apart from every other rollercoaster action thrill ride on television - is that every single thread of the plot is tied to love.

Every.

Single.

One.

Love of all different shapes and sizes - parents and children, friendships, doomed crushes (straight and queer), toxic exes, blossoming romances, siblings - and over it all, a deep, deep love for humanity.

The thing I said before, about how when things go wrong they go wrong in character-driven ways? It’s this. Love is why everything on this show happens. Love is what makes children want to live up to their parents and what makes parents fight to leave a better world for their children. Love is why deaths have stakes. Love is why we spend so much screentime lingering on small moments another show might ignore, like all the thieves at heist camp sitting down every night to have dinner together and argue about paella techniques. Love is what causes chaos in the middle of the heist; when there’s one person in the room you care about more than the others, you can get distracted and take your eye off the ball. Love is how your enemies can get to you, by leveraging or blackmailing the people who matter most, knowing that you’ll crack if they’re in danger. Love, gone wrong, causes toxic men to develop possessive and controlling behavior towards women. Love is how the Professor gets the idea for the heist in the first place. The plan is flawless on paper, but it doesn’t account for the human variable, and over and over again we see that relationships and connection and sex and family and love cause people to behave in unpredictable ways and throw the whole plan into chaos, which is what makes for a dynamic and compelling story.

How refreshing to see a show simply refuse to grant the oft-repeated premise that a show cannot have both high-octane thrills, and a big soft squishy heart, at the same time.

ANYWAY, I’VE TAKEN UP ENOUGH OF YOUR VALUABLE TV-WATCHING TIME, GO JUMP ON BOARD THIS TRAIN AND COME SCREAM ABOUT IDEALISTIC SPANISH ROBIN HOODS WITH ME, AND LET THE GOOD SHIP SERQUEL INTO YOUR LIFE, YOU WON’T BE SORRY

THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

#lannister-slings-and-arrows #la casa de papel #money heist #from the inbox #i have a lot of feelings about this show #is this entire post just one long subtweet of 'the 100'#listen #maybe #i'm still pissed about kabby and will be for awhile #but legit this show was HEALING and CATHARTIC in some unexpected ways #yes virginia you CAN have functional loving stable relationships and high-stakes drama at the same time

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neverlearnedtoread · 4 years

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Half a King

⭐⭐⭐; i read this book mere days ago but already the details are disappearing in a haze that is both gritty and realistic...

Oh?? 👌😉😏

all joking aside, i appreciate how the realism was handled in this story - it wasn’t gratuitous torture/suffering porn, but every struggle they went through felt appropriately scaled to realistic levels of difficulty - i like survival stories well enough, and this played into that trope nicely

female characters with a good range of characterization - they were all no-nonsense, but they gave off distinct vibes

i like the part of the story where yarvi comes to understand more about human nature as he’s travelling with his newfound buddies - that’s probably the part of the book i enjoyed the most. his interactions with the rest of the characters were the most compelling at that point

No.. ❌🤢🤮

i am not kidding when i tell you i cannot bring to mind any part of this book that really stood out to me - its all shrouded in this haze of meh. i enjoyed the story while i was reading it, but it did not resonate with me at all

the sheer amount of times the author went on about yarvi’s bad hand and how that meant he would never be a respectable king felt pretty ableist...plus the ending made me feel like the narrative proved that point to be uncomfortably true, even if unintentionally. it just felt...off

Some spoilers under the cut!

Summary: Prince Yarvi is soft-spoken, slow to violence, and kind of terrified of everything all the time - all in all, a pretty bad choice to rule a kingdom of Viking-esque warriors, even without factoring in his being born with a crippled hand. So it really sucks when his father and older brother are murdered by the ruler of the neighbouring kingdom and Yarvi is forced to take the throne, swearing an oath to his people that he will avenge his fallen family members. To make a bad day worse, the people who betrayed his father and brother decide to get rid of him, too. In a (briefly) fortuitous turn of events, Yarvi survives his first assassination attempt, only to get sold as a slave to a merchant ship. His climb back to where he began, and the vengeance he seeks, will teach him what it means to be a leader of men, crown or no crown.

Concept: 💭💭

I’m not a fan of ‘hard fantasy’ - the kind of fantasy where you have to read many many pages of violence, scenery details, and gritty realism just to get to the point of what the author may be trying to say - some variation of ‘life sucks and you’re all going to die someday’, probably. Also ‘people are all horrible and none of us will ever change’. Fantasy that’s hard to read. That includes most grimdark stories, thick books, and books that get described as ‘gritty realism’. But isn’t reading about pushing your boundaries, sometimes?

Execution: 💥💥💥

I didn’t know this was considered YA fantasy until I went to record it in my goodreads - which made sense, honestly, because it was definitely an edgy, ‘oh, bummer’ sort of read but hadn’t made me blink a polite ‘oh?’ at the page while something very ghastly happened for no reason other than ‘here’s a daily reminder to the adults of the world that life sucks, and nothing really matters. thank god you’re old enough to hear that now all the time, forever’. Still, props to the author for managing to hit that sweet spot of grimdark storytelling while not quite passing into gratuitous soul-crushing nihilism. It was an easy book to get through - nothing really gripped me with the need to know what happened next, but then again it wasn’t hard to pick up where I had left off. It was the exact opposite of ‘hard to read fantasy’, and I gotta give the author credit for that.

Favourite Moment: oof, i wasn’t kidding when i said the plot of this book didnt stick with me at all...its so hard to remember specific scenes. i guess i really liked the reveal of who ‘Nothing’ really was. we love a good ol’ dramatic character reveal scene, even though i felt like that ultimately shaved the edge of yarvi’s final character arc a little, and left an overall disappointed taste in my mouth about how he ended up where he did at the end of the first book

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤

Joe Abercrombie writes the kind of prose I imagine an old-timey bard would have, telling stories around the campfire as they hope the wolves don’t come for them at night. There’s a kind of internal rhythm to it, a rolling quality that comes across very distinctly even when I’m physically reading the book. However, when he repeats a few key phrases so many times, he sounds more like a bard who totally forgot what he wanted to say, or doesn’t remember the rest of the story so he needs to vamp while trawling his memory for the next plot point. The plot wasn’t anything to lose your mind over, in the end - I liked the twists and reveals well enough, but nothing shook me by the shoulders with how amazingly well it had been pulled off. There was no ‘how could I not have seen that coming??’ moments. At best it was a lukewarm ‘knew that would come up again at some point, but I forgot about it until now’ sort of reaction.

Favourite Character: all of these characters felt so far away from me - like watching a shadow puppet show. if i had to pick - sumael, with jaud as a close second. he was a good guy, and i liked his steadfastness. sumael got more of a character arc than i expected, and i appreciated that - this book actually did pretty well with its female characters. i liked her drive and her willingness to survive, no matter what - and i liked that the romance in this book went pretty much nowhere. it would have been bizarre to have a love story in the midst of this narrative. sumael leaving yarvi behind to start a new life, and not dying in the final battle, made me respect the author more.

#half a king #joe abercrombie #book review #bookblr #booklover #reading #books

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nessismore · 5 years

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Book Rec Time

It’s ur girl V, back with another list because this is how I handle quarantines, I guess? Yelling (or politely typing) about my favorite things makes me happy sooo....

If you’re not into binge watching stuff and are looking for things to binge read, may I present (apparently in series length order)...

The Psy/Changeling Series by Nalini Singh - Paranormal Romance

The Psy/Changeling series is about a world where there are three dominant races: Humans, who are your everyday average joes and don’t have any fancy powers beyond...well, persistence and levelheadedness; Psy who have cool as shit mental powers that uh...may lead to some mental instability and like...murder, so they decided “fuck feelings” and instituted a thing called Silence where they feel nothing, and that leads to problems; and Changelings, who can shapeshift into animals and are very cool and ~primal and will possibly claw your face off if you break their rules and I love them a lot. So these three races kind of live in their silos, Psy feeling superior, Humans with a chip on their shoulders, and Changelings just wanting to left tf alone goddammit, and then things happen and it’s cool.

Nalini Singh is pretty much the queen when it comes to paranormal series, and if you’re into a big immersive world with A+ world building and political development intertwined with romance, this is the series for you. 18 (soon to be 19) novels and countless novellas/short stories strong, there’s plenty to dive into. Each novel is technically a standalone, but the deeper you get into the series, the more history you need to really know what’s happening.

Each novel, minus one, focuses on a different couple, but you have plenty of interaction with past characters as the characters are all tightly intertwined. Seriously, this series is my fave and I re-read/listen to a selection of my faves at least once a year (usually when there’s a new one coming out). In a series this long, you’re bound to have some duds (and there are def some doozies, the couple in Kiss of Snow is super uncomfortable for me, but a lot of shit GOES DOWN) but they’re all worth reading because the political shit happening is super interesting and cool and I didn’t expect to write an essay on this, but here we are. I am down to talk Psy Changeling basically All. Day. Also, because it’s paranormal romance, there’s lotsa sex.

Series highlights (imho): Slave to Sensation (1), Caressed by Ice (3), Bonds of Justice (8), and also books 12, 13, and 14 basically I love all this shit and recommend it highly.

The Pride Series and associated spinoffs by Shelly Laurenston - Paranormal Romance

The Pride Series is another shapeshifter series, but instead of going the serious political route, she goes absolutely fucking BATSHIT INSANE. My introduction to this series was the 9th and last in the series proper, and in that one alone there are: jousting bears, shifters on roller skates, a cat/bear hybrid shifter who falls in love with a honey badger shifter who keeps burrowing into his house.

The series is irreverent and laugh out loud funny, and it also features a hella diverse cast of characters. Each novel is a standalone, but like in Nalini Singh’s series, the characters from different novels interact a lot and it’s nice to see a lot of your faves. Also, a small thing but I really enjoy the fact that while the characters from previous novels interact, they don’t always like each other? It adds a touch of realism (lol) to the relationships. There’s also a lot of fun female friendships, ridiculous shenanigans, and a surprising emotional core to each one. Prepare to think “WTF” the entire time in the best possible way.

Also, lotsa sex in these, too. Also also, gratuitous violence.

Series Highlights: The Mane Squeeze, Wolf with Benefits, Bite Me

You may also like the books Laurenston writes under pseudonym G.A. Aiken, which is like the Pride series, but set in ~medieval-y times and with dragons. Also hilarious and batshit insane.

The Bridgerton Series by Julia Quinn - Historical Romance

Basically, everything Julia Quinn writes is frick fracking delightful, but the Bridgerton series in particular is near and dear to my heart. Each novel focuses on one the eight (8!) Bridgerton siblings, the oldest of whom is a Viscount and the move in high society in Regency Era England and blah blah blah. What I love about this series is that each sibling is very distinct with a very distinct love story. The family is lovely and heartwarming and the characters all have a lot of depth. There’s an element of ridiculousness to them (as there is in all Julia Quinn novels) and if you’re looking for some feel-good romance, this is the place to be.

Series Highlights: The Viscount Who Loved Me, Romancing Mr. Bridgerton

(also these descriptions are getting shorter as I am getting lazier)

The Innkeeper Chronicles by Ilona Andrews - Urban Fantasay/Paranormal Romance idk where they fall

It’s hard to choose an Ilona Andrews series, because this husband and wife writing duo is A++. The Kate Daniels series is amazing of course, but if you’re looking for a short and contained series that’s funny and packs an emotional punch all at the same time, look no further than the Innkeeper Chronicles. Dina Demille runs an Inn in a small town in Texas. But not your run-of-the-mill Inn. Nah, this one caters to aliens and interstellar travelers and no one else should even think about staying there. Also, the Inn is sentient. I don’t want to give too much away since it’s such a short series (the original trilogy and a spinoff book that was actually posted on the Ilona Andrews website in serial format) but this series is super great and you should check it out!

No series highlights since it’s like...4 books long.

I’ve shown you mine, Tumblr. What are your binge reading recs?

#long post #book recs

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svexchange2k19 · 5 years

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Treat List!

What’s a treat list? It’s an anonymous list of exchange participants’ requests that I’m posting here so that anyone (regardless of if you’ve signed up to do the exchange or not) can create gifts matching these prompts if they want to :))

This part of the exchange is strictly optional (no obligation from anyone to do this) and it’s also not an exchange (i.e. if you make a treat, you don’t get something back ... other than the knowledge that you’ve made someone very happy :)).

Treats can be basically anything you want! E.g. a quick doodle, a few lines of a drabble, or anything more complex/long if you choose :)

How to submit a treat:

Please email [email protected] with ‘Treat for Prompt [x]’ in the subject line, e.g. ‘Treat for Prompt 1’

If you want to post your treat publicly on your Tumblr/AO3 account, please only do so after the exchange’s gift reveal date (25 January 2020). Close to this date I will let you know who the treat recipient was and you can then tag/link/mention them in your post, send it to them if you want, etc.

The Treat List

/// PROMPT 1 ///

First choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Second choice of ship: Big Head/Jian-Yang

Additional ships: Jared/Richard / Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? Teen and Up. Mature and Explicit Welcome.

Content preferences: Evil!Richard or Possesive/Jealous!Ed Chambers. Angst with happy outcomes.

Prompts/suggestions:

Ed Chambers secretly hiring himself as an employee. Richard hates him and always hears Jared talking about him.

Pied Piper actually succeeds AU. Jared dealing with super powerful Richard who needs to be brought down a peg.

Big Head secretly knowing what’s up and handling Jian-Yang, playing him like a fiddle.

Content weaknesses: I will reject nothing. Everything involving SV is good.

Content limits: No limits. The dirtier the better.

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? If you've ever stopped yourself from writing something because you thought the fandom would judge you. Give me that.

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/// PROMPT 2 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Additional ships: Dinesh/Gilfoyle

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? If so, please list in order of preference. Mature, Explicit, Teen, Everyone

Content preferences: Fluff, angst with a happy ending, porn with plot/porn with feelings

Prompts/suggestions:

Pied Piper Christmas Party

Finale fix it fic

Sick fic

Meet the Parents

Pretty much any AU other than high school

Content weaknesses: Preferably not Erlich x Richard, Richard x Gavin, Richard x Bighead, or Jared x Gilfoyle

Content limits: Non-con, domestic violence, gay bashing

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/// PROMPT 3 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No preference

Content preferences: Content: fluff or h/c, comedy, but most importantly, romance.

Prompts/suggestions: Boy howdy do I love tropes. I love hijinks, farce comedy, fake relationship stuff, and bad, fumbly sex where they get to giggle and be nervous without inhibitions. But also, if you have a hankering for something specific, throw it at me! no story is going to be better than one You genuinely want to write.

Content weaknesses: gilfoyle/dinesh, anything with Erlich

Content limits: rape/ non con, underage (Like if they're 17 or something that's fine but they gotta be the same age ish)

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Uh... I love you

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

/// PROMPT 4 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? As much as I love explicit art and fic, I would prefer not to receive any in this exchange. Teen/mature/whatever is all good for me

Content preferences: I enjoy humor, fluff, and drama. Please no angst

Prompts/suggestions:

Historical AU

Fantasy AU

arranged marriage/marriage of convenience

established relationship

Content weaknesses: none

Content limits: No explicit violence or gore please. hurt/comfort is ok as long as the focus is on comfort. Oh, and no major character death!

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/// PROMPT 5 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Additional ships: Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? 1) Explicit 2) Mature

Content preferences: in no order - angst with a happy ending; comedy; pining/mutual pining; romance; gratuitous smut; tenderness

Prompts/suggestions: in no order - bed sharing; soulmate AUs; Alone on the Water AU; high school AU with misfits finding each other and pining SO MUCH PINING; Richard sees Jared in a tux for the first time; inappropriately timed proposal; Richard bids on Jared at a date auction for charity; Jared works as a stripper, Richard becomes a regular; Pied Piper Christmas party complete with mistletoe and drunken shenanigans; any version of Richard and Jared confessing their love for each other

Content weaknesses: Dinesh/Gilfoyle, Big Head/Jian Yang, Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica.

Content limits: non-con (references to past abuse, like mentions in Jared's past, are ok, just nothing onscreen)

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Thank you for making a gift for me!

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

/// PROMPT 6 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Additional ships: Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No preference.

Content preferences: hurt/comfort, pining, angst with a happy ending, porn with feelings, domestic life, AUs, established relationship, humor

Prompts/suggestions:

Richard comforting Jared;

pirate AU;

I just really like established relationship… when the characters know each other really well, when they have their own shared stories, jokes etc;

For the Ed Chambers ship – maybe something using that whole “Richard trying to be alpha” storyline from 6x04

Content weaknesses: any hints of Gavin/Richard

Content limits: Omegaverse, mpreg, hardcore violence, unusual specific kinky stuff like that. And fluff. Cuteness is cute, but in ships it often makes me cringe, sorry *covering eyes with hands* Tenderness though! Tenderness is good. Good Shit™

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Tbh I just want you to have fun doing this! So I hope you do (have fun I mean) :)

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

/// PROMPT 7 ///

First choice of ship: Dinesh / Gilfoyle

Second choice of ship: Big Head / Jian-Yang

Additional ships: Jared / Richard

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No.

Content preferences: Hurt/comfort, angst.

Prompts/suggestions: Season six.

Content weaknesses: None

Content limits: None

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

/// PROMPT 8 ///

First choice of ship: Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Additional ships: Big Head/Jian-Yang

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? Any is fine

Content preferences: Any as long as there’s a touch of comedy in there.

Prompts/suggestions: Depending on pairing, some ideas:

Monica wants to try something new, Gilfoyle is into compersion, and Dinesh is into … well, Gilfoyle, mainly, but hey, Monica is kind of hot. So they get together and do a little experimenting.

5 times someone found out about Gilfoyle and Monica when they were trying very hard to hide it, and once time they told everyone. Bonus points for the 5 times being a range of reactions from turned on to disgusted, with a lot of astonishment thrown in.

Jian Yang moves back from China and everyone else moves out, so it’s just him and Big Head, chillin’ out, playing some games, shooting some cans, hooking up and kind of digging each other’s radically different vibe, like, a lot.

Or whatever the author has in mind for those pairings, I’m easy!

Content weaknesses: N/A

Content limits: N/A

#sv exchange 2k19 #announcements #sv squad #silicon valley winter exchange #silicon valley #silicon valley hbo #treats

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aij-writes · 5 years

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Quarter Past Wrong, Pt 2

Rating: Teen, Swearing, Mild Fantasy Violence, Romance

Pairing: Ignyx (Ignis/Nyx)

Summary: Ignis is superhuman...if he is human. Nyx is pretty sure he’s a vampire. Case in point...

Warnings: So…going by Japanese standards, even a 17 year old isn’t at the age of majority, so by Insomnia standards, Ignis is still a little young for the 26 year old Nyx. In Galahd, and his heart, it wouldn’t matter. Age range is nine years because I accidentally bump up Ignis’s age to three years older than Noctis (instead of 2 ½ of canon) and Gladio a year older than Ignis. Also, I have a headcanon I’m carrying over that Dragoon is a race and Ignis is a Dragoon. If I ever write an explanation to this I’ll link it.

Other Tags: Canon compliant, Brotherhood Era, Best friends Gladio & Ignis, Slow burn?, pining, OCs with no development for plot purposes, gratuitous workout and training scenes

For @ffxvignyxzine using all the prompts on day 2 “Meet me after dark”, Rain, Is he a vampire or am I imagining it

Second part of a multi-part fic trying to tie it all together

“Is he a vampire or am I imagining it?” Nyx asked, leaning back against the bleachers.

“Huh?” Crowe asked before throwing her fist up and cheering. “Come on!” she yelled.

“He’s talking about the bureaucrat again,” Luche complained, leaning back from the next bench down. He groaned, slapping money into Pelna’s hand. “Shove it,” he complained.

Crowe continued to watch her team trounce Luche’s in rollerball. Finally, though, she glanced at where Nyx was staring. “Dude...don’t be weird,” she complained.

“I’m just saying,” Nyx said, insistent and on the edge of unloading. “The kid’s not human.”

“He’s a Dragoon. You know they say the same about you Galahdians,” Tredd offered.

Nyx kicked him hard, sending him crashing into Axis. He leaned forward, chin in his hand balancing his elbow on his knee and watching the much nicer box seats where the prince watched. Galahdians didn’t officially have to sit in the low stands, but they just typically did. along with all the others that coun’t afford better tickets on their salary. There was no use bothering to mingle with the rest of Insomnia. They preferred them out of sight, out of mind. As a Dragoon, Ignis might have had the same issue, the son of refugees himself. Of course, he’d been handpicked by the king to see to his son, but Ignis faced enough discrimination that Nyx couldn’t help but sympathized.

“I mean...what does that even mean?” Crowe asked. “Are you calling him a daemon?” She laughed, taking the box of popcorn from Nyx and munching on a handful.

“I mean, sure, it sounds crazy but like--”

“Fangs? He’s got fangs for biting the heads off anyone that looks at the Prince the wrong way,” Luche pointed out.

Nyx rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, forget it.”

“Maybe you should,” Crowe said, straining up. “You know...no one finds stalking romantic, Ulric.”

“I’m not...and I don’t...!” Nyx finally let his cool demeanor crack. “It’s not like that!”

“Sure, of course not,” Luche agreed. “He’s a teenager. Nyx isn’t looking to break Insomnia law.”

“Forget the age of majority, Luche,” Crowe pointed out. “The kids practically royal court.”

“I’m not trying to date anyone let alone him, Astrals!” Nyx said tensely. “I wouldn’t date a vampire anyway!”

Tredd snickered. “Interested in guys, Hero?”

Nyx rolled his eyes. “All I’m interested in is figuring out if Scientia is a vampire. That’s it.”

“Here,” Crowe said, having been on her phone. She mailed him a list. “Checklist. Go do your stalking and find out before you go completely stark raving mad, alright?” She motioned her head. “The Crown finds out they’ve got a creature of the night tucking the prince in, they’ll give you another medal, right?”

Nyx rolled his eyes. Still, he couldn’t help but look over the list.

---

Pale Skin/Aversion to Sunlight

Nyx was walking down the hall, talking to Gladiolus Amicitia. Over the years, he’d gotten to know the Shield’s son as a pretty cool guy. He’d even been invited over for a few meals at the manor and sat in on one of Gladio’s tattoo sessions when he went to get the line down his own right index. Gladio tended to be easygoing, but honest, and just as fun and without caring he wasn’t native. His sister liked to ask him questions, even if she never asked anything important. Which, to be honest, he sort of liked. It was rough with the only thing anyone wanted to ask him was about fighting. Even Gladio’s father balanced a line between respectful and boyish enthusiasm.

Right now, Gladio was talking about a movie adaptation of some novel, complaining about the casting and merging of characters. Nyx followed along, having read the book but not having gotten around to seeing it. The set pieces sounded cool, but it didn’t sound enough to save a movie on a book he’d actually enjoyed. They were headed to lunch together, as Nyx had had to pull guard duty at the gates and missed his friends’s break and Gladio just liked to rotate his options.

As they went to turn into the cafeteria though, they nearly ran right into the prince. Fourteen and every bit as sullen as the age demanded, Noctis huffed, stepping back and looking away. His shadow cleared his throat and Noctis rolled his eyes. “Yeah...sorry...”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, before asking Ignis, over Noctis’s head and silently, He alright?

Ignis gave Gladio a sympathetic look. Father, he mouthed back.

Nyx guessed that meant something about the king. Before he could get too worried about King Regis, though, Noctis huffed and kicked his shoe against the floor.

“Since Dad’s too busy, can I just go back to my room?”

Ignis frowned, fingers nervously worrying over his cuff. Gently and proddingly, he said, “Noctis, wouldn’t you like to sample the changed menu? There’s a new burger I think has merits and--”

Noctis let out a tortured noise. He frowned as Gladio snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, sure, and then everyone can whisper and point and go Oh look, it’s the prince. I put up with that enough at school, Ignis, thanks.”

Ignis sighed, pushing his glasses up. “Your Highness...”

Gladio threw an arm around Noctis’s shoulders. “Come on. You two can join me and the Hero. That way, if anyone’s staring, you can tell yourself it’s in awe of braids and muscles.” He eyed Ignis. “And those ridiculous bags under your mom’s eyes.” He put a hand on Ignis’s shoulder, holding him there. “Astrals, Iggy, you stay up all night cleaning up after His Bratiness again?”

Ignis squirmed. “Honestly, Gladio!” He frowned. Like the kid didn’t have enough criticisms getting through his teenage years. His acne was finally under control. Though his skin was much smoother and soft now, he was all the more paler for it. For a moment there, Ignis had quite a time. He dressed like a little business man, had glasses, an overbite, acne, and carried a briefcase everywhere. At seventeen, he was finally growing into his looks having started to do things with his hair and put together slightly more stylish versions of the blazer-dress pants-collared shirt that was his uniform. Still, he had a wan look. He looked like he carried the fate of the entire kingdom on his shoulders.

“I’ll grab us a table,” Nyx offered. “You’re still buying, right?” he asked Gladio, punching him on the shoulder “Get me an orange juice with a deluxe burger and onion rings.”

Noctis made a gagging noise. “Orange juice at lunch?” he said to Nyx. He looked around the cafeteria then settled his eyes outside. “Can’t we go eat outside?”

Nyx looked at Ignis, almost holding his breath in expectation. It was dumb but--

Ignis gave Noctis a patient, apologetic smile. “It’s really more comfortable in here, right?”

“In the gardens, no one will know I’m there,” Noctis tried to and failed not to whine.

“And I won’t know anyone’s sneaking up on you,” Gladio said, crossing his arms.

“You’re supposed to be ready for sneak attacks,” Noctis pointed out. “Warp boy’s got us, right?”

Nyx glanced at Ignis. “It’s really nice out. Even pencil pushers have to get sunlight sometimes, right?”

Ignis sighed. “I’m afraid it’s a tad windy and I’d hope to finish going over your homework so I might have an evening to myself, Your Highness. Do you mind if we stay inside?”

In the end, Noctis assented.

Mind Control

“Oh...hey,” Nyx said. He was leaving the library, book tucked under his arm.

Ignis pursed his lips in that displeased way he had. “Yes,” he said. “I need to--”

“They’re closed,” Nyx said, jutting a thumb back. “Just got kicked out myself.” He grinned, leaning on the door. “Not so quick now, huh?”

Ignis frowned at Nyx, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, come on, no need to pout. I’m sure you’ll be up early enough that you only have to wait a few hours, right?” Nyx tried to nudge Ignis on the arm, but he didn’t even respond.

Nyx wasn’t even sure how, but in less than a moment, the door was unlocked and opened. A single hand reached out with a book. Ignis reached behind Nyx and took it. He nodded his head at it. He didn’t even look at Nyx as he rotated on his heel and marched back the way he came.

Arithmomania

“Anyone ever tell you that you have an attitude problem?” Nyx asked Ignis. He was doing pull ups near where another Crownsguard was working Ignis through stretches. Ignis looked like he was in extreme pain or simply concentrating, but he clearly ground his teeth too much.

Ignis put a finger out to flip him off. That was with him being flipped and having his leg extended.

Nyx tried to laugh and regulate his breathing but he ended up releasing his grip. He fell onto the mats below. He grabbed his towel and wiped down his face. “Wow, Scientia...you’re too much.” He stooped down next to Ignis’s head, watching him. “Careful Novitas doesn’t rip something.” With his worst impression of Ignis’s Dragoon accent, he teased, “The Kingdom would fall without our favorite high-stressed gov’nor doing everything for everyone.”

“Let me...do you a favor,” Ignis said with a surprising amount of breath control.

Nyx grinned. “Oh yeah? You want to come over and set my pants on fire?” Last week in training, Ignis had missed a mark and set Luche’s pants on fire. Though Nyx had to admit it was awesome, he hadn’t let Ignis live it down.

Ignis’s face was already flushed but now he was glaring. The way he clenched his teeth, though, it made his lips pouty and his narrowed eyes behind glasses gave him a sultry look. Nyx tried not to notice that the guy was hotter than Ifirit’s sigh.

“No,” Ignis grunted. “The favor is, I won’t punch you for gawking.”

Nyx grinned at him with a wide, toothy smile. “Who’s staring? I’m wondering if you’re almost done being stretched like taffy. I wanted the mats for crunches and squats.”

Ignis groaned, tapping out. “Enough, Nov!” he gasped.

“Getting limber, aren’t you?” the grinning blonde asked. He eased Ignis’s leg down. “One more?” He ran his hand up and down Ignis’s back along the spine. “Help you cool down?”

“Might put the fire out,” Ignis agreed, still giving Nyx a glare that only made him hotter. “No, you can use the mats all around me, though.”

He tried not to think about it. In Galahd and the rest of Lucis, it might not have been so odd to find a seventeen-year-old attractive. In Insomnia, it was one more disconcerting thing the refugees left around them where the age of majority was twenty. Never mind the fact Ignis clearly never thought of anything other than work and training to be better at work. He knew he was the Prince’s future adviser, but there was enough evidence that Ignis did nearly everything for the teen and was still counted on for other things. He overheard complaining about him speaking up at council meetings he was merely meant to take notes at and, they had the insistence of saying, the King actually discussing with the Head of Urban Development as serious advice!

Not it wasn’t so much Nyx shouldn’t find Scientia hot. It was that he did and he knew it didn’t matter. Fellow refugee or not, there was already murmurs of King Regis granting peerage to Ignis. Then he wouldn’t just be an unofficial member of the royal court, he’d be a lord and there’d be an official House of Scientia. Nyx knew that anyone that close to the royals was already too high-strung to be interested in grabbing coffee--though Ignis seemed to live of the stuff even at his age. He’d never risk his standing for a nearly decade-older Rat who didn’t even particularly want anything. Nyx just thought he was nice to look at. And maybe a vampire.

As Novitas wrapped an arm around Ignis from behind, Nyx situated himself where he might watch in the mirrors if he chose to. Between push ups, he did. Novitas had Ignis drapped over his arm. Ignis was bent almost double over it, hands sliding down his own legs as Novitas used his other hand to push Ignis down further. No one should bend that easily. No one should have Ignis in such a pliable position if he wasn’t going to do something about it. With Novitas’s serious look, though, he clearly only had the boring workout in mind.

Ignis clearly needed to prove himself even if it was only to himself. He was like a chocobo in a rainstorm; letting water roll of his back. No amount of underestimation had ever caused him embarrassment. But the impossible standards he set himself kept being held up despite how much more he stacked onto himself.

Nyx ended his last set as Ignis ended his actual cool down stretches. He’d already thanked Novitas and they’d parted sometime before. Libertus had ended his time on the weights, talking about his day’s best. As he asked Nyx how much he’d done, they headed to the lockers room, Ignis trailing behind.

“I dunno...I just do ’em til I’m done.”

Ignis rattled off the numbers of pull ups, push ups, crunches, and squats Nyx had done. He looked at their surprised faces. “Counting habit. When I’m working out, I’m trying not to think about anything. Counting helps.”

---

Invitation Only

“Hey Nyx?” Gladiolus called, catching up to him. “You good?”

Nyx rubbed his shoulder. He had bandages over it. A spell had gone wrong on the field last week and burst from his flesh. He had electric burns down to the muscle. He offered a grin. “Sure, why not?”

“His Highness,” he said, always careful to be proper when not talking to Ignis or Noctis, “nearly gave himself frostbite a year or so ago. No reason to act tough.”

Nyx shrugged with one shoulder. “Who’s acting?” He cuffed Gladio on the head. “You ever stop growing?”

“If not up then out,” Gladio said, smirking as he flexed. He was in a tanktop and the steadily filling in lines rippled like a bird’s plumage might actually in the wind. He looked like he wanted to say something after that, but Nyx let him stew on his thoughts as he kept walking towards his neighborhood. He actually wondered how long until Gladio refused to go further.

“So...you having a few people over for drinks and watch the Founder’s Day thing?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said. “You wanna come?”

“Can Iggy come?”

Nyx raised his eyebrows. “Uh, sure...why not....though, I can’t imagine he’d miss the real thing.”

Gladio shook his head. “The Prince has finals and is going to stay in all night and prep. Ignis is hoping he’ll see to himself and I want to give him a chance to be distracted from worrying he won’t.”

Nyx nodded. “Well, my apartment isn’t going to compare to the Amicitia manor. Or the Citidal apartments.”

“Ignis isn’t stuck up, you know. You could give him a chance.”

“I’m not mean to him,” Nyx said with an incredulous look on his face. “Boy, you really are protective of him, you know. He probably doesn’t like all that big brother posturing, you know.”

“Sure, I know,” Gladio agreed. “Except I’m always there to remind him to live a little. It’d be nice if someone wanted to include him without wanting something from him.”

“I mean, he can come. It’s no biggie.” Nyx couldn’t quite say he didn’t want anything from Ignis. To see the guy smile might be asking too much, though.

“Well, sure, if I tell him, he’ll never come. Maybe you could invite him. Let him know he’s welcome.”

Nyx frowned at that, but nodded. “Sure...I’ll tell him about it.”

---

Aversion to Garlic

“What are you doing?” Ignis demanded.

Nyx looked up. “You looked tired. I made us coffee.”

“...what did you put in the coffee?” he asked in a careful tone. There was some amusement there, though.

“Uh...well, it’s Ebony beans, water, chocolate flakes, honey, and...oh, yeah, I guess that’s...” Nyx eyed Ignis carefully. He’d been caught in the kitchens making himself a sandwich after bullshit guard duty released him way too early in the morning and caught Ignis baking. He slid the mug over, perversely curious. “You like to try new things?”

“Of course,” Ignis said, frowning. “One should always look to expand their horizons.”

“Alright, well, you ever put anything in your coffee? I know I’ve seen you only take it black from the can.” Ignis raised his eyebrows at this, as if surprised Nyx was keeping tabs. Or maybe it that there was any other way to have it. Or the avoidance of answering directly. Nyx grinned. “So I made it how I had it back home. You know...where I’m from.”

“In Galahd?” Ignis asked softly, picking up the mug and looking at it. “I thought I saw spices go in.”

“Yeah...salt, pepper...garlic paste stirred in.” Nyx smiled sheepishly. “It’s better that way.”

“You can’t put garlic in coffee.”

“I think you’ll find I have.” He picked up his mug, knocking it against Ignis’s. “Drink up.”

Ignis stared into it. “No.”

“Well, I’ll admit, a fresh clove it better. But one sip isn’t going to kill you.”

Ignis sighed. “I mean, I’m watching you drink it, but I swear you’re just playing a prank on me. Maybe there’s no garlic in yours.”

Nyx snickered. He took Ignis by the wrist, bringing his mug up and tipping a bit into mouth. “Mmm...like Daddy used to drink.” He released Ignis’s wrist, but used his fingers to tip the mug towards him. “One sip,” he urged in a soft, teasing voice. “Be brave, Crownsguard.”

Ignis looked at the mug, before meeting Nyx’s eyes. He let him raise it to his lips, but put his other hand on Nyx’s. He took a slow sip, still watching Nyx intently.

“Good?”

“Maybe not my taste but understandably good for others,” Ignis agreed softly. He stepped back a bit, putting the distance and raising his voice to a normal tone, “I think I’ll take it plain from now on, but once can’t hurt.” He smirked at bit at Nyx. “I still think it’s some elaborate punishment game you’re just immune to.”

“No one’s immune to garlic, Ignis. Enjoy it.” Nyx turned from Ignis. “It’s good for you. How’s it any different from your quest to sneak veggies into the notoriously picky prince’s dessert?”

“Fair enough,” Ignis conceded easily.

“You must be poisoned. You didn’t even argue.” Nyx came back, putting the back of his hand to Ignis’s forehead. “Is that a fever? You’re burning up.”

Ignis rolled his eyes. “Like I haven’t heard jokes on my name my whole life. Imagine if you knew my middle name.”

“Middle?” Nyx asked.

Ignis looked embarrassed, at least for him. He turned his head a bit even if he kept his eyes on Nyx unabashedly. “Well, it’s a Dragoon thing. We have a family, a personal, and a middle. I wouldn’t be ashamed of it, but it’s dumb.”

Nyx grinned, leaning in. “You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?”

“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Ulric.” Ignis smirked a little. “I don’t let many people too close. Too close to me is too close to the prince.”

“You’re faithful,” Nyx pointed out.

“It’s love, Nyx. I love my country and I love my job.” Ignis looked up at the older man. “I love Noctis, too.” He bit his lip at the casual use of his name, but he was already that far in. “I’ve taken care of him for so long, how could I not?”

“Yeah...” Nyx agreed. “I know what you mean.” He didn’t elaborate to Ignis, but his thoughts were to his sister. “But you know that time isn’t all love is.”

“Of course not,” Ignis said with a huff. “If the prince didn’t deserve my love, he wouldn’t have it, only my duty and follow through.”

“Still seems like it’s hard to earn those,” Nyx said. “You think there’d ever be another person as lucky?”

Ignis smirked into his coffee. “Sure.” He let the casual assurance hang as he eyed Nyx with his teasing green guys. “My best friend Gladiolus.”

Nyx nodded. “Fair enough.” He reached over, tapping Ignis’s chin up. “Anyone would be a fool to try to stretch you any thinner.” He gazed at him before moving on.

“That’s you, Ulric,” Ignis said, setting his mug down. He flipped the timer on the oven off at four seconds and peered inside. “Always issuing a challenge.”

“Name a time I ever do that,” Nyx demanded, only to frown. “Alright, alright...”

Ignis huffed, pulling the pastries out. He used the mitts to fan the steam rising off them. “Everything you do around me is a challenge. Even coffee.”

“Well...maybe you’re looking at it wrong.”

“I often don’t,” Ignis said carelessly. “I tend to have an accurate idea of others’ motives and strategies.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Nyx sipped at his coffee. “I must be that annoying know-it-all you think me as.”

Ignis raised his eyebrows. “Or you find pushing me around is the best way to get me where you want me.”

Nyx startled, coughing around a bad swallow. He set the mug down, watching Ignis’s back. He took a careful step forward, sliding in next to him. “You always seem to like things a bit direct so as to get it over and done with.”

“Hmmm...that would be a mostly accurate summery,” Ignis said, sprinkling powdered sugar over the pastries.

“Maybe I’m tired of you being over and done with people. Me or otherwise.”

“You?” Ignis asked, having the slightest look of surprised as he realized Nyx was closer. Right next to him with the heat off his body warmer than the pastries. He shifted, turning to look up at him. “And what more would you want from me?” he asked, no blush or nervous tremble. Just honest, direct curiosity.

Nyx couldn’t help but look at those lips. “For you to engage with people for the pure pleasure of their company.”

Ignis blinked at him, before breaking the moment by moving away without a word. He pulled a linen-lined basket towards him and began to load the pastries in to bring up to Noct. “I would have to find their company pleasurable, don’t you think?”

Nyx scowled. “Right,” he said a bit abruptly. He went to pick up his plate, ready to retreat. “Unlike a Rat with too many opinions.”

Ignis let out an annoyed hum. He lifted a pastry that had broken apart. He took a knife to it, cutting it evenly in half. He tipped it onto Nyx’s plate. “I may be efficient, Mr. Ulric but I’m not boring.” He gave Nyx his own challenging look. “You want to order me around, make sure it keeps my interest. Trade for the coffee.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Nyx said irritably, turning to catch the hurt look cross Ignis’s face before it was as quickly schooled into a challenging look himself. He winced at that, before taking a bite. “Pretty good,” he mumbled around the crumbles and silky filling. It had a warm, nutty flavor.

“Probably not good enough for His Highness but I try,” Ignis said, shrugging. “Well...if you don’t want anything more, I guess I better leave for someone who always needs me to get him up and going in the morning.”

Nyx watched him leave, gap-mouthed. Okay...never mind what he wanted. What did Ignis want?

---

Bloodlust

“I’ll kill him.”

“Sure Iggy.”

“No, I will,” he snapped. “Slowly, too. I’ve been working on interrogation techniques with the Marshal. I’ve found plenty of places to put a knife that’ll bleed good but not kill or maim. Enough of those, though...”

“Well...that’ll come in handy,” Gladiolus marveled. “How come he never has anything useful for me? All I got was this amazing physique.”

“You did that yourself, you swole-head.”

Nyx kept walking, not wanting to know who’d get Ignis that worked up over anything.

---

Animal Familiar

Nyx burst into laughter. Ignis shot him a look from across the hall they were passing in. Nyx shrugged, gesturing behind him.

Noctis had stopped in his walk, standing in the light of the high window. He had none of his usual teenage scowl. He just blinked sleepily, smiling faintly. He looked a bit puffed in the warmth of the sunlight.

“Your cat’s distracted,” he said with a grin, gone before Ignis could throw another withering look at him.

---

Water Barrier

Nyx had his hand over Ignis’s on his kukri’s handle. “I want you to feel it pass from my hand to my blade,” he instructed.

They were nearly back to front, past the usual training time, but Ignis had finally asked for something. He was having difficulty with lightning spells and issued his own challenge to Nyx he made it look so easy. Ignis still had problems with aim and release and the erratic electricity was the worst. Just today, upon issuing the command, Drautos had taken a tiny bolt to his knee. He’d limped out of there after carrying practice on as normal, wincing and using Luche and Libtertus’s help to walk as he couldn’t feel his leg.

“Come on, Scientia,” Nyx urged. “This is the only area I’ve seen where your power outstrips your finesse. You don’t have to be the strongest on the field. But there’s so many people around, you run the risk of getting your guys. No amount of battle formations is going to prevent friendly fire.”

“This fire isn’t feeling so friendly,” Ignis muttered darkly.

“You need to let failures happen,” Nyx coaxed. “Doing it right the first time means you fall into bad habits. Like confusing trying with succeeding.”

“You are really arrogant, you know that?” Ignis shot out.

“We’re not sparring, let alone trading barbs. I’m here instead of showering and getting a beer. I think I’m being fucking gracious and you’re the arrogant one,” Nyx snapped.

Ignis startled. With that, a bolt shot out, hitting one of the stone pillars. He looked back at Nyx. He pulled his hand from Nyx’s, using the other, uncharged one to push his glasses up. “My apologies.”

“I don’t want ’em,” Nyx assured him. “Just focus.”

Ignis looked around the training yard. It was just him and Nyx. “Of course,” he assured him. “I let my frustrations get the best of me.”

“The best of you is better than that,” Nyx couldn’t help but say.

“You know me so well?” Ignis inquired.

“Uh...well, I know the standards you hold for yourself...they’re not easy.” Nyx shifted a little so it was less like Ignis was in his arms. He took his fist, placing it at the center of Ignis’s gravity above his navel. The teen had started to shoot up in height. Already tall, he was squeezing a few more inches out of what was left of puberty. Nyx started to wonder if he’d end up towering like his best friend. At seventeen, Ignis was nearly Nyx’s full height.

He swallowed, trying to ignore his thoughts of how neither would strain into a kiss. At least physically. The emotional, societal burden was insurmountable he decided. Had to conclude and be done with. This attraction was getting out of hand and it was so one-sided he’d started to consider his friends were right. He was stalking the damn kid.

“F-feel right here,” Nyx said, only the slightest waver in his voice. Ignis stiffened at it, but relaxed as Nyx went on, “I want you to be a storm. Gather, pull, twist and turn in place. Build it up. Draw from every bit but keep it here. Then...” His hand went from fist to open palm, cupping the taut muscles of the Dragoon and dragging his hand up over his chest. “Direct it,” he ordered quietly, “only a little. You hold that storm in place,” he said, other fist going back to the spot.

He now had both arms around Ignis. Nyx was pressed against him, their different body types fitting together well. He kept his head turned slightly, chin barely resting against the back of Ignis’s shoulder. His open palm continued to run, curving with Ignis’s defined curves. “You are bringing forth one bolt,” he reminded him. “You aren’t separating it, though.” He gently ground his fist in a little. “Connected to your storm, but seeking grounding. You are connected. Your aim is to find the easiest root from your storm to your target.” His hand ran over Ignis’s pectoral, fingers trailing a little high to touch the exposed skin of Ignis’s collarbone for a moment, but moving on.

His hand continued its path. From Ignis’s shoulder to arm, down, down, slow and direct. Nyx shifted, pressing as close as he could, breath its own heat cloud against Ignis’s ear. His hand turned, running over the inside of Ignis’s wrist before the final rest, wrists pressed together. Ignis still had Nyx’s kukri closed in his his hand.

“Release,” Nyx guided, directly yet soft.

Ignis released a single blast that as quickly webbed out and enveloped the pillar, turning it into a beacon. Both had to shut their eyes, but Ignis held strong as he overwhelmed it with his entire charge. Behind eyelids, they could see it get brighter still before plunging them into darkness.

Ignis was breathing heavily, obviously worn out. Both kept their eyes shut, but Ignis shifted in Nyx’s arms. He handed him back his knife and turned, his own hand drawing over Nyx’s chest. He was quicker with his movements and it came to rest in the crook of Nyx’s neck.

Nyx felt charged lips near his. His hand gripped at fabric, holding Ignis close to him but not moving closer.

A crash of thunder startled them apart.

Ignis gasped and Nyx yelped. But it was a real storm. The exposed air of the training grounds let in the storm above and rain started to fall on them.

Ignis dove for cover, but it was harder to tell if it was from the rain or the man that stood in it, watching him go.

---

Fangs

“There are eyes everywhere, Scientia,” Nyx murmured, holding an impassive look. He had guard duty for a delegation of scholars that wanted to discuss crystal magic. They mostly wanted to implore the king again to ask him was it wise to let the Rats steal pieces. That the Kingsglaive would be the guard was by design.

Ignis wasn’t looking at him. But he was wondering close to Nyx. He’d been asked to the meeting personally by the king and had stood up, impassioned in his argument that the Kingsglaive was not only necessary, but in favor of King Regis’s duty to his people. The scholars had argued back that first and foremost, the King had to duty to the crystal itself. The heart of their star resided in it and needed to be protected above any people.

Drautos and Leonis, rarely on the same page of anything, had taken their time to both argue. The Marshal had pointed out His Majesty must protect his lineage to continue protecting the crystal. Both Ignis and King Regis had shared a mutual look of distress at summing up Prince Noctis’s purpose as a progenitor for more servants to the crystal but neither had voiced it.

Drautos had merely spat out there wouldn’t be a crystal to protect if Nifleheim was allowed to snuff the lands out. “There’s hardly a star, let alone its heart, if there’s no people to stand upon it and receive its blessing, right?”

The meeting wasn’t futile but it was frustrating. No one walked away happy.

But Ignis wasn’t walking away.

Nyx had put a healthy space between him and Ignis. As in always several floors away if possible, as he’d started to make himself unavailable. Ignis hadn’t acted as if he’d noticed, but he now shot Nyx a questioning look over his glasses. Nyx merely stood at attention, eyes gazing past him.

Pushing them up, Ignis gathered up his papers and put them in his briefcase. He pulled on his tie, loosening it a bit. He walked past Nyx without another word.

Only once the meeting room was empty did he finally relax his stance. And look at the tiny paper pressed into his hand.

Meet me after dark.

Nyx wasn’t sure where or why or should or even could. He didn’t know where Ignis went when he wasn’t working. He certainly didn’t know what he wanted. Not really. The almost kiss, if that’s what it was going to be, had worn him out. He hadn’t even thought about it. It was too much to consider so he hadn’t. He just avoided it and avoided Ignis. Now he was summoning him. Where? Who knows. When? Dark was relative. He was in the dark now. Why? To be threatened and yelled at? To be grabbed and kissed? To be lectured about propriety and laws and how a royal retainer and a soldier with nine years difference and from two completely different backgrounds were not meant to have so many run-ins? Should he go and assure him it was a moment they’d both read wrong? Could he really face those wide, searching eyes and listen to the berating from those pouty, full lips?

He went home. He went home and changed and fed himself, and even got some of the chores he’d let slide. He distracted himself. Then he groomed himself, checking his braids and washing his face. He dabbed on cologne and changed his shirt. He frowned at his reflection. He stopped dawdling and caught the train back to the Citidal.

He walked towards it with purposeful steps even if his mind was blank of any strategy. He stopped short, though, seeing that Ignis always had a plan.

The rain had continued to fall for the last week. Nyx had shrugged on a raincoat with a hood, but Ignis stood in his partial suit under an umbrella. He was off to the side, at the foot of the steps. He turned this way and that, looking like he was trying not to look so obviously looking. But Nyx stared.

He was too much. Too cute in his obviousness. Too young in his unabashed forwardness. Too out of his league in his poise and elegance even under duress. He was too much of a bad idea.

Nyx approached, boots splashing in the rain. Ignis still hadn’t noticed him even if he made no attempts at stealth. But his mouth wasn’t working right, so he didn’t call out. Nyx reached Ignis. Ignis looked up at him, surprised and unable to force his expression to something neutral. Nyx didn’t even pause, reaching Ignis, closing a hand around Ignis’s back, and pulling them close together under the umbrella. It was a tight squeeze. Ignis continued to look at Nyx, not hiding his thoughts so well. He was wanting. Nyx wanted it back.

They met into the kiss, neither making the first move. Ignis’s freehand went to tangle into Nyx’s hair, stroking at braids and petting down to his nape. They opened their mouths to each other. They kissed until breaking apart.

Nyx was hugging Ignis, though, so they didn’t move more than their faces. Ignis ran his hand over Nyx’s scruffy beard. His expression was thoughtful, soft, still wanting but only more now instead of unchecked yearning. Nyx watched Ignis with something akin to hope as his fingers traced patterns across Ignis’s shoulders.

Nyx closed his eyes for a long moment as he sucked in a stuttered breath. Can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, never ran through his head. Ignis’s next kiss only tasted like yes.

They made out in the rain, not sure where this was going and what they’d have to do to keep it. But Nyx did have the presence of mind to run his tongue over Ignis’s teeth. Just to check.

#ffxv fanfic #ignyx #ignis scientia #nyx ulric #ignyx week #ffxv: quarter past wrong #wordcount: 6031 #arugh this one took a lot longer so now I'm behind but enjoy

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