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luvether · 2 days ago

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First of all I just want to say, Victoria hi hello, I hope this isn’t your first impression of me and secondly, this may or may not have become a textual analysis so...just like how this fic is lengthy (in a damn good way oh don’t get me started on this) my comments will be also long and detailed cuz you’re so damn insane for this fic.

Another note I read this at the very late hours of 1:50am, burned through this until 4:00am went to bed then when I got up i read from 12-1pm and i wish i had the ability to erase what i read from my mind and read it again because Vic you COOKED, i got so much things to say but the whole summary of it is that you cooked, so hard and so deliciously this night just me my favorite fic on tumblr.

And i’m slightly sad that long fics don’t get the same amount of love and treatment as others because this was honestly the best thing I’ve read in so long so fellas, please give this fic a chance if you have the time. I’m telling you right now, as a very picky writer and an even pickier reader (i did not enjoy cruel prince and fourth wing typa picky)

HANDS DOWN THIS WAS THE BEST READ I EVER GOT THE GRACE OF EVER WITNESSING WITH MY TWO EYES,

I wish i can conceal and stop my yapping right now to save my dignity but Vic, i’ll write down a whole ass lecture + essay for you for writing this heaven-sent aven fic.

1.) first and foremost, what i liked about this was the world building. THE WORLDBUILDING HAD ME HOOKED. I fear you ate with how you described the world, it did not feel overwhelming or draggy. I’ll list down some pirate-y words that i really liked because i wrote it down in my notes while reading this (i’m not pathetic i swear)

World-building is insane btw, every single detail and even terms i never really heard before like, cutlasses, perfume cloying nose, hull, pinafore aprons…this entire thing does not feel flat, in fact it’s extremely organic and i really like how you place so much details on building up this pirate-ish world (maybe im just way too fascinated because i’ve never consumed any media/books/movies that’s pirate related, not even pirates of the Caribbean or the third movie of Narnia where they were out in the sea, so i guess this is my first exposure to this theme in particular and i’m very much loving it so far) - Koue at the lovely hours of 2:45am

2.) JADE. that’s all. The way you write Jade….Lord in heaven give me this talent. Again, words below came from my notes last night,

Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose.

As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine.

but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard.

HO IS YOU MAGIC WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS WORDING /pos reading this at 1:50am and you had my jaw going slack, highlighting this specifically—certain words stretches out, weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your guard >>>

Oh my god the way you write Jade, i never really paid attention to her in game since i was on a hsr hiatus when she came out but reading your interpretation of her i can tell that you carefully thought of her characterization and its soo well done, all her dialogues are written so delicately & with so much thought and again, the paragraph above when you described how she says stuff, Vic are you a wizard? I really really like how you worded that, it’s literally my fave sentence TT

Also the follow up banter after that was so funny, the aven + reader dynamic piqued my interest eueu

By the way, is it bad to say that when i read your aventurine it kinda reminds me of Luka from alnst,, just a little bit at first,

3.) I’ll go in order but just gonna highlight some of my fave paragraphs from this fic:

LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE AVENTURINE. FROM START TO FINISH. this was also an epiphany because i never really wrote for him too, so this is my first aven exposure and it’s already my fave.

(lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops - deserves to be framed on my wall respectfully.)

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

Reader is everything haha, knows about medicine, carpentry, business talks, plays an instrument and a good yapper?? I wish I was this multi-talented.

Aventurine’s naming game isn’t half bad, love bby Doubloon and the ship Lady Luck, sounds very aven coded indeed.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“No,” he admits without any hesitation. “I may have lost my vision, but I saved my pretty nurse who stitched me back together and fretted over me afterward, and that’s enough to make a man do anything. And… well… for my eyes, let’s just say I’d rather gouge them out most of the time.”

AVENTURINE. A.VEN.TU.RINE. that’s the type of flirty remark that would have me falling, like falling hard. This had me smiling and like, sniffling cuz it genuinely made me want to kick my pillows, i feel hot reading that, needed to fan myself before continuing.

Is aventurine like, those ghost pirates? Now i know why i mentioned that Aventurine reminds me of luka- he had those blue fingertips so i made an unconscious comparison. He’s definitely like that blue-piratey person from SpongeBob i forgot the term that they’re called ?

Just searched it up, but i was thinking about that pirate from the Flying Dutchman? it might not be, but that’s the first thing that came to my mind.

AVENTURINE SPOILING YOU, AVENTURINE SPOILING YOU, he’s getting attached and with reason. Love this kinda of mutualistic slow burn. I’ll be honest, I haven’t also read a proper Aven fic, this is my first and I’m glad that it is. It may be my standard of Aven characteristics from here on out.

Calling Aven’s hat ostentatious >> that’s a good word Vic

4.) I swear this is already all over the place…haha anyways, the fourth thing I wanted to point out was everyone else besides the one i already mentioned. Ratio and Topaz and Numby in particular, my god YOU DID THEM SO WELL. Despite this being an aven x reader fic I absolutely love—with my dying breath—that this isn’t just centered around them. Ratio had his few shares of screen times and I loved every single one of it, also with the moment of reader trying to recruit Topaz—it builds so much character!! ❤︎

Below are my spontaneous thoughts, again from my notes whilst I was live reading:

WE ARE RECRUITING VERITAS ARENT WE, I need to calm down and lessen my caps- just saw the word university and I’m sitting up from my bed. oh my god Ratio is gonna join 😭 😭 pls join you silly scholar, I’m so excited on how you’ll portray him, you did not disappoint with aven, jade and reader so far.

FINAL VICTOR MENTION !! the very iconic verivasha lc ❤︎

Okay,, he’s flushed. Am I interrupting something or what TT

You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them.

The way you describe ratio’s eyes >>

Ship Navigator Veritas!! The role definitely suits him <33

Genuinely feels like I’m watching someone play a game, if that makes sense? The domesticity of having Ratio on board and him decorating his room, his mannerisms filling up the vibe within Lady Luck with Captain Aven and reader, feels like playing a game TT it’s the same feeling of when Sunday boards the express

You might hear me say this like a millions times, but you writing little details like reader explaining about adding lime juice on rum to make the water supply edible is such a masterpiece, again, a sucker for tiny details like that because it’s usually glossed over on storytelling and media most of the time, makes everything feel really in depth.

Also, is scurvy a normal thing when you’re out at sea? I didn’t do research but this is like the second time it was mentioned,

Ohh okay never mind, reader answered my rhetorical question

Ratio isn’t a drinker noted 😭 him chugging down water after is funny

Fourth member already?? It’s topaz for sure

Yup, it’s definitely topaz, briefly saw a part of her character story / maybe it was from that belobog quest where she came from a poor planet.

Also, love how this is not aven-centered. Like the moments with topaz and ratio grrrr

“That’s the Lady Luck for you! She’s a fickle one like her namesake. Sometimes, she’ll try and drown you just for spite. She keeps even me on my toes at all times and I’m her captain. Isn’t that right?”

LIVE LAUGH LOVE LADY LUCK I’M ALREADY SEVERELY ATTACHED TO IT

a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern,

From prow to stern is wild, my fave line from this paragraphs

Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

I LOVE THE IPC TRIO SO MUCH, their personalities shine and bloom soo much in this fic, I want to read more of their dynamic

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

WHAT IF I CRY. WHAT THEN, IM SO ATTACHED AND I LOVE THIS SM. I’ve been quietly following you when you mention about this fic on the server and I’m soo glad I listened to the voices in my head and picked it up. I’m genuinely sad that I didn’t ask for a tag 😭 such a gem of a read.

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window.

PLEASE THE WAY I STARTED LAUGHING. Puppy coded Aventurine is not something I find myself being fond of in the first few weeks of February but it is welcomed, he was written so well in this fic. ALSO THE DETAIL OF HIM WILLINGLY GIVING YOU HIS SCALES AND TEAR DROPS, get you a man that’s yearns so bad like Aventurine, he looks at you with expectant wide eyes while giving you literally pieces of himself that’s incredibly valuable. (Also find it hella endearing when reader plopped him back in the bath, like sobbing i was all over their dynamic from start to finish 😭)

There will come a day when the Lady Luck will complete her last voyage, Aventurine will have to return to the seas, and the crew will be disbanded, but that day isn’t today. It won’t be when he comes clean to the crew either. Rather, it’ll be in the far future when no amount of repairs can keep the Lady Luck from falling apart and you’re no longer able to handle the challenges of life at sea. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

“So where to next, Captain?”

Banger last line, banger end paragraphs. You just single-handedly made me fall in love with Aventurine, Reader, Topaz, Ratio, Jade and Lady Luck in a span of 20k + words.

Even I didn’t feel this connection with an mc in a goddamn book.

Yup, that’s where my thoughts end. So to conclude everything and I feel like i’m just repeating words, Victoria the writer that you are, I would reread this a million times and not get bored. The world building is phenomenal, the way you structure your paragraphs, i have a bunched of highlighted sentences throughout this fic because the way you word things is so impressive. The way you characterize all the hsr characters is to die for, it’s characterized in a way that you can clearly see them acting like this canonically. the build up, the little details that makes this entire story so fleshed out, the sea-borne diseases, the looting and trading business shabang, the navigating beyond the seas.

This pirate AU was such a treat to read and if ever, you write this again, or not euue please tag me 🥹💌

— Yours sincerely, a sudden fan and surprisingly your mutual (idk how tf we are moots) Koue 🧸

hello, sailor!

SYNOPSIS: all aboard the lady luck and set sail for a new adventure! life on land doesn't satisfy you, so why not take to the seas instead? while working under captain aventurine as the primary nurse onboard, everything you've ever wanted is within your grasp, and yet the mystery surrounding your captain is still there, just short of being solved. just what kind of secrets lie hidden beneath that charming smile and silver tongue?

CHARACTERS: aventurine, topaz, ratio, jade, robin

TAGS: fem coded reader (wearing dresses, makeup, but they/them pronouns still used), mentions of drinking, gambling, harassment toward reader, drowning, numby is a regular piglet in this fic, 23.9k wc (get some snacks and a drink ready for this one), mild angst, some suggestiveness

NOTES: thought my aventurine kissery phase was over then hoyo uploaded the pirate art of him and now its back to square one

special thanks to my pookies @https-sourlimes and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this behemoth of a fic! with much love mwah 💋

very late but @lowkeyren hihihi ren!! I got u for secret santa and hope u enjoy this fic!

TAGLIST: @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz, @mikashisus, @vxnuslogy, @papiliotao, @gl4di0lus

The rolling sea has always beckoned you.

It’s always been there, tucked away in the back of your mind, usually hidden but resurfacing like the corals and lost trinkets at low tide you’d go scavenging for when no one was looking. Conch shells hold the secrets of the ocean that enrapture you for hours on end and you drape yourself in weathered jewelry washed ashore. Dried-up starfish and seashells and multicolored sea glass litter your home, and yet it isn’t enough. These trinkets pile up and gather dust in your home as you chase after what you’re really after- a way out.

You’ve been surrounded by the sea your entire life, born and raised in this very port town. You grew up hearing stories of lands faraway from your parents and the workers down at the docks. Infamous pirates and honorable seamen alike and their journeys were your bedtime stories as a kid. You never see the same unfamiliar face twice in a place like this and perhaps it’s this ability to come and go as you please that captured your heart from a young age. Appearing and disappearing like an apparition with rumors of your conquests and the freedom a life at sea granted… it was enough to grab your attention as a kid and never let go.

And yet, you’ve never ventured into the open seas. The most you’ve done is swim around at the beach, but you’ve never been able to push further than that. Theoretically, you should’ve been able to leave long before now, but your plans never made it past the first step. You’ve been denied passage aboard ships at every turn for countless reasons, all of them stupider than the last. Eventually, your motivation died down until you resigned yourself to a dull life on land- but the dream never fizzled out completely. Even now, you still stroll along the beach and search for answers.

Down at the dock, you hear of sailors and pirates alike drunkenly telling tales of sirens and their bewitching songs they waged war against at sea. You wager that the sea’s freedom beckons to you the same way a siren’s song does to them- irresistible, enchanting, and inescapable no matter where you are.

When work is slow, you find yourself staring out at the sea through the window, just watching as the tides recede and crash onto the shoreline repeatedly. At night, you’d catch yourself at the beach with your feet in the sand and the salty waters lapping at your ankles without any recollection of how you got there. Maybe sleepwalking? But something tells you that’s not the answer.

But this time, you suddenly find yourself standing in waist-deep water, completely alone and without a sound to be heard. Not even the usual sound of squawking gulls circling overhead can be heard. That’s strange. The harbor is always busy, with goods being transported and people seeking asylum. There’s ships docked and as far as you can tell, it’s as normal of a day as any other. And yet, there’s no life to be seen or heard. No crabs scuttling along the sandy beach, no people strolling along the boardwalk, no shouts of street vendors peddling their wares to passersby. Just you, the sea, and its ever-growing temptation.

You think it’s somewhere around early evening from the position of the sun, but you aren’t sure how long you stare toward the horizon, unblinking. But when you do blink, you see a pirate ship coming into view. She’s quite possibly the most incredible ship you’ve ever seen in your life, with several sails, a sturdy hull, and a flag fluttering proudly atop the mainmast. And she’s heading right toward you. If you swim out further or wait where you are for a while longer, she’ll pass by, giving you the perfect opportunity to sneak onboard.

You look back one last time before heading further out to sea. You slip below the water. It’s pleasantly warm and you wonder why you’ve never attempted this before.

The siren’s embrace, that is the ocean’s form of freedom, is growing stronger.

Port towns aren’t known for being the safest, especially those frequented by pirates. Public drunken brawls, looting by particularly greedy pirate crews, lechery, and disturbance of the peace with the occasional count of public indecency, are commonplace almost every night. Usually, you’re able to avoid most of it, but today isn’t your lucky day.

“Hey, pretty lady! Mind comin’ home-”

Crash!

An empty beer bottle goes flying by, barely missing his head and shattering into bits against the brick wall behind him. He lets out an unusually high-pitched squeak for someone of his size and stares as you storm past, his mouth agape. Another sailor behind him laughs at his plight, to which he spins around and cusses toward his face. You make it out just in time as the first punch is thrown.

One drunken sailor is more than enough to deal with, you decide. You decide that you’ll take your chances and go past the port as a shortcut back home, even though it’s late.

It’s silent besides the sloshing of the waves and mostly empty. There’s some burly guards patrolling in front of the more ostentatious pirate ships that spare a glance as you hurry by, but it’s otherwise deserted at this hour.

Until you approach the end of the harbor where few ships are docked. You hear the faint sounds of a struggle- a punch being thrown, a man’s muffled scream, glass shattering, the wet squelch of a knife sinking into flesh, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. From the shadows, you see two people emerge. A blond man drags someone out by the hair with a knife in hand. Even from here, you can see the dark slick staining the wood. There’s a ship directly in front of him. You assume it belongs- or belonged- to the now-lifeless body being dragged along. The blond looks around, then freezes up upon seeing you. The hand holding the knife tenses at his side and the two of you stay locked in place like that for a bit, daring to see who will make the first move. Shockingly bright neon eyes meet yours and you jolt. You’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his.

But there’s a ship that’s still waiting. You recall that strange dream you had a few nights ago.

… On second thought, perhaps today is your lucky day after all.

You slowly clap, starting to move forward, and the blond steps back. The knife in his hands, now aimed at you, is a tiny thing. It’s rusted, the blade is most likely dull, and even the butter knife in your kitchen would laugh at it.

“Congrats on winning. Got any injuries you need patched up?”

No response. You try again.

“I see those injuries you got from that fight. Those wounds of yours won’t heal overnight. Someone has to be there to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“... You’re a nurse?”

His voice comes out smoother than expected. Amusement and snark drip from the words, thick as honey, like he can’t believe you’re a medical professional. And yet, you can hear the tenseness in his voice and see it in his coiled muscles, ready to spring back into action again.

You ignore the jab toward you and point toward the winding cobblestone streets that you came from. The sounds of a fight can be heard coming from the town square even out here.

“Run a practice in town. Certified and everything if you’re real nitpicky and care about my credentials. Though most sailors that come through the door could care less when they’ve got a pretty lady lookin’ over ‘em and are used to amputations for the most minor of infections.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up by another pirate crew yet then,” he smugly remarks, voice as smooth as velvet yet concealing a sharp edge.

“Oh, there’ve been attempts alright. Promises of double the booty a normal seaman would receive, the finest quarters second only to the captain, medical supplies taking utmost priority when docking, and many many more. Hah! All nice and cute, but we know that in a few months time, all those promises will have fallen out the window and I’ll be regarded with no less respect than the lowliest seaman onboard.”

He leans back against a wooden post, roughly kicking the man from earlier until his bleeding head is submerged underwater. You spare a glance at the poor soul before looking back at him.

“Got a ship now?”

“... It’s not much, but it’s something to start with.”

He looks behind him and as he does so, the sleeves of his rags shift to reveal the injuries lying beneath. A sharp intake of breath is the only sign you’ve seen them, but his keen ears pick up on it. He tugs his sleeves down and glowers over his shoulder in your direction.

“You don’t have any medical expertise, do you?” you ask, ignoring his irritation. “Not a good idea to go out conquerin’ the seven seas without a nurse on board. Matter of fact, I doubt you’d even get that far. Probably die off from scurvy or something preventable.”

His silence speaks volumes. You brush past him and set foot onto his stolen ship- little more than a glorified rowboat with a mast and a single sail. It couldn’t even be called a sailboat.

Still, he won’t go down so easily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares you down behind his thick bangs obscuring his vision.

“And why should I welcome you aboard?”

“Simple. We both get what we want.”

You reach your hand out to him.

“You get a trained, qualified medical professional to treat your wounds, and I get to escape this rinky-dink, backwater port town. A mutually beneficial deal, don’t you agree?”

He racks his mind for an excuse, anything, really, to turn you down. But he can’t come up with anything. The wounds all over his body really do need treatment that he doesn’t have the expertise for. There’s enough room for two people in the boat and he knows you’re smart enough to have realized that by now.

It’s fine. I’ll just dump them off at the next port and be on my way. Problem solved.

With no excuse that can fly under your radar, he pushes his irritation down and forces a smile onto his face. He reaches a hand out and it’s just now you notice his ghostly blue fingertips.

… He’s not entirely human, is he?

“Your name?”

“(Name).”

“Welcome aboard, Nurse (Name).”

You brush your thoughts aside and shake his hand. It’s cold.

“Pleasure, Captain…?”

“Aventurine.”

You squeeze his hand firmly one last time.

“Pleasure to be working with you, Captain Aventurine.”

Captain, huh? He tries the title on for size in his mind as you get settled in, rolling it around on his tongue.

I could get used to being called that.

Even though he initially promised himself that he’d kick you out at the next port, that never happens. You pass by several ports, and yet you stay onboard. Perhaps it’s because he finds his first treasure alongside you on an island that many have sailed past countless times. The treasure was hiding under everyone’s noses the entire time, both of you managing to uncover it with a bit of wit and a hefty amount of luck. Aventurine supposes part of himself feels indebted to you, much as he hates the sensation. You found your first treasures together and you’ve admittedly been taking good care of his wounds born from years of enslavement. The healing process is coming along slowly but steadily.

Perhaps he’ll let you stay for a bit longer. Until you get your share of this treasure. He gives credit where credit is due, at least.

“I can’t believe this has been here this whole time,” you say as the treasure chest is finally unearthed. Aventurine sets the shovel down, and on the count of three, you lift it out to go through its contents. It’s no sizable amount of loot by any means, but it’s not half-bad for your first haul. Some gemstones that are admittedly rather small, jewelry, a few rusted cutlasses that with some elbow grease, could be restored to their former state, and some golden coins from a bygone era.

You hold some gold chains up in front of him, as if seeing what he’d look like with them on. He casts a glance down and shakes his head in disapproval.

“I know, too gaudy, right?” you ask as you set them back into the chest. He holds up a handful of uncut diamonds, all of varying sizes, and watches as they twinkle in the sunlight. “At least we can pawn ‘em off.”

“I know someone who can fetch us a good price for them. You won’t have to worry about that,” he responds as he lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops. Diamonds are almost worthless on their own, but if he sends them to a jeweler to be cut and polished and perhaps turned into jewelry, then perhaps he can squeeze out a bit of value from them… Or perhaps he should just leave them the way they are, given her hobby for finding true gems in the rough.

He finds a string of pearls and after a moment for inspection, tosses them over to you.

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

There’s someone already waiting for you when you return to land to pawn off your treasure. According to Aventurine, she owns one of the most prosperous pawn shop chains out there and always fetches a fair price for her customers, so long as they have something equally valuable to give her in return.

“Just remember to always address her as ‘Lady Bonajade’ and nothing else. She doesn’t take too kindly to those who don’t have manners,” he whispers to you as you weave your way between the crowded streets to the pawn shop’s address.

“Sounds like an interesting person,” you whisper back. “Should I be scared?”

He scoffs. “Not unless you’re looking to trade something beyond our treasure. Just don’t say anything rash. Let me handle it.”

The pawn shop is tucked away in a corner of town that sees few people. The exterior is surprisingly well-maintained for this part of town and a sign reading “Bonajade Exchange” in elegant violet cursive lettering hangs above the door. You can’t see into the shop’s windows and you can’t hear any activity from inside either. Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose. It smells heavily of florals and incense, with a hint of smoke present. The candle flames waver and flicker as the door shuts and you take a moment to look around the shop. The heavy velvet curtains across the windows are drawn, letting only a small sliver of sunlight in. The only other source of lighting is the candles scattered throughout that illuminate the treasures displayed almost carelessly throughout the store. Polished and cut gemstones lie in display cases alongside gold bars and jewelry. Weapons of all sorts are hung along the walls alongside maps and thick, aged atlases on the bookshelves. It’s silent, save for the faint crackling of waxen flames, until an unfamiliar and elegant voice rings out from behind the curtain all the way in the back.

“Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?”

There’s a moment of silence that follows, as if the speaker has recognized who you are. A candle is lit behind the curtain and you can make out the silhouette of a woman rising to her feet.

“Oh, it’s you. We meet again, Aventurine.”

There’s a smile in her voice as she brushes the curtain aside and you get your first look at the owner of the shop. A wide-brimmed black hat obscures half of her face with a pale blue eye peeking out at you. She wears a white dress that’s undoubtedly made of silk or some other costly fabric with a dark blue corset. The silver and jade jewelry she wears (is that where she gets her name from?) clink pleasantly against each other alongside her heels, accompanied by a walking stick clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine.

She comes to a stop and her eyes rake over you both, lingering on you especially. You catch a hint of something in her slitted pupils, like she knows something you don’t.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Lady Jade, the owner of this place. Are you a first-time customer to the Bonajade Exchange?”

Her voice is low and almost a whisper that has you hanging onto her every word. It’s as smooth as the silk used for her dress but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard. Under her chilling gaze, you feel yourself strangely clamming up and it’s all you can do to nod mutely. She hums and leans in closer, examining you head to toe. You feel like an item being offered up for auction yourself right now…

“And who might you be, lovely lady?”

You’re surrounded by ice.

“Nurse (Name)... Lady Bonajade,” you say, hurriedly adding her title at the end after remembering Aventurine’s advice from earlier. She smiles approvingly, a cold and benevolent thing.

“You’re a good child who knows their manners. Alas, the same couldn’t be said for the man next to you when I first-”

Aventurine coughs. Jade stops talking, but the mirth still lingers in her eyes. A purple snake appears out of seemingly nowhere, winding around her shoulders and up her forearm before rearing its head at you. Its tongue flicks out to taste the air and it leans toward you before she gently pushes its head back.

“Don’t mind it. It’s too curious for its own good at times,” she says offhandedly. Her baby blue irises drift toward the plain wooden crate sitting behind Aventurine and the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corners of her glossy lips.

“Have you brought something valuable for me?”

Aventurine beckons you over and after a bit of effort, you pry open the lid to reveal the contents of the treasure you found. Jade strides forward and stops before the crate, examining it with interest.

“Look at that, you’ve finally found your first treasure. Where was it found?”

She raises an eyebrow and a hint of skepticism crosses her expression when Aventurine tells her the spot.

“That island has been combed through countless times by other pirates. I find your claim hard to believe.”

Atlases and ancient records are brought out and she finally seems to believe him after cross-referencing the embossing on the back of a coin with a legend from that island. Just as you think you’re starting to get a grasp of the situation, a flurry of financial terms fly over your head as they argue over the market value of the items and how much cash you can walk away with today.

… You’re way out of your comfort zone now. You’re a nurse, not a businessperson, for Aeon’s sake!

An agreement seems to be reached between the two of them. Jade readjusts her gloves and after calling some men over from the back, they begin going through the treasures and separating them into piles. Meanwhile, Aventurine turns his attention back to you.

“Fifty-fifty split.” You make the first move.

Aventurine scoffs. “Absolutely not. Eighty-twenty at least.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“The captain, of cour-”

“Self-proclaimed,” you retort. “Doesn’t bear much weight with only a crew of two and each of us handling the work of at least five men. Seventy-thirty split since you want to be stingy.”

“Still too little.”

Your eyes narrow in irritation while his smug smirk never wavers.

“Seventy five-twenty five.”

“Fifty five-forty five.”

“Is that really any different from your initial offer of a fifty-fifty split?”

“That’s a five percent increase.”

“Yeah, only five percent.”

Jade chuckles from where she leans against the counter. The treasure has been fully cleared out and taken elsewhere. All that remains is an empty crate on the ground.

“A five percent increase isn’t as narrow of a margin as you would think it is. Right now, that might not seem like much, but in the future when you start discovering more valuable and rarer treasures…”

She yawns and covers her mouth with a delicate hand.

“Who knows? You could be looking at a gain of at least a couple thousand.”

Aventurine clicks his tongue and turns back to you. There’s one last offer you have before you give up and walk away. A new life in this town for the time being doesn’t seem too bad…

“Sixty-forty.”

He stills at your offer. Jade’s eyes are trained on him as she lightly fans herself with a feathered folding fan. Her snake watches the exchange with seemingly keen interest too.

“... You drive a hard bargain just like Lady Bonajade over here,” he grumbles as he forks over a portion of the credits to you. He leaves part of it on the counter, though.

“You have an innate sense for business,” comments Jade, as you leaf through the wad of bills. “Perhaps you’d like to refine it to its fullest potential?”

“Lady Bonajade, please stop trying to recruit every promising person that walks through your door.”

“It’s not just anyone I set my eyes on. It’s only those with exceptional talent that shine like gems in the rough,” she corrects. Her gaze flicks over to you again.

“Should you ever grow tired of a life at sea and wish to attain everything you desire… you know where to find me. I have branches all over the seven seas. I’ll be patiently waiting.”

Aventurine hurriedly hands you the stack of credits he set aside earlier.

“We’re running low on supplies. I still have business to discuss with her, so why don’t you go and pick them up for me?”

You nod and leave. The door shuts behind you, and Jade’s welcoming demeanor immediately disappears as soon as the shop is plunged into darkness again. Even though the climate is temperate in this stretch of the ocean, the temperature drops considerably. Her snake comes out of hiding and openly hisses at him. This time, she does nothing to reprimand it.

“I see you’re planning to let a considerable asset go. My best advice for you would be to not.”

Aventurine barks out a laugh and meets her cold tone with one of his own.

“Meddling in my affairs, you damned sea witch-“

“You would do well to learn some manners from them, child,” she all but snaps. “Remember, I don’t give out advice for free. When I do, it’s because I see a great return of my investment in you on the horizon. It would be in your best interest to listen.”

She hisses the last word out and her pet snake does the same. Aventurine’s heart is racing, but he shows no sign of it.

“A businesswoman through and through,” he remarks dryly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you called them an asset.”

“Oh? As if you see them any better than I do. At least I recognize their value. You, on the other hand, have seen them as a nuisance this whole time.”

She sighs. “Such potential headed straight to ruin under your care. It’s quite a waste. Perhaps I should take them under my wing instead, the same way I did with you… Better yet, why don’t I put them through the same refinement process the way I did with you? It’ll be a valuable learning experience for you both.”

Aventurine bristles, and Jade smirks, knowing she has the upper hand now. He’s reminded that just like that, Jade can take away everything he’s fought for. And shape the rest of your life to what she has envisioned.

“You will have them remain as a crewmate upon your ship. Don’t think I’m unaware of how your wounds are coming along. This is in your best interest as much as it is mine. Understood?”

He numbly nods. Jade hums happily and pats him on the shoulder.

“Good child. I expect even greater things from the two of you combined.”

There’s a knock at the front and the door swings open. The sudden brightness of the sun makes him squint, but he can see you standing there with several boxes behind you and some burly men carrying them.

“Captain, I picked up all our supplies. Is there anything else you need me to handle?”

“No, tell them to take them back to the ship. Wait there. I’m almost finished here.”

You nod and the door closes again. Jade turns to him with a knowing look in her eyes as she pulls away from the counter to head to the back again.

“Captain,” she repeats with a teasing lilt.

“Stop that,” he grumbles. She checks the time and barely spares him a glance over her shoulder as she retreats behind the curtain again.

“The time for conversation has ended. Go now. It isn’t polite to keep your partners waiting for any longer than necessary.”

Just as he’s about to head out the door, he’s stopped by her again.

“Don’t disappoint me now, child.”

The only response she gets is the door slamming shut.

He finds you waiting by the ship as instructed. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what happened as he pushes past you roughly and hoists the sails. Wordlessly, you weigh the anchor and as you set sail, Aventurine finds himself more thankful than ever for your ability to read the room.

Yes, he barely tolerates you. He never wanted a second person aboard to begin with. But anything is better than catching Jade’s attention. From personal experience, it takes a very special kind of person to stay one move ahead in her games and he knows you aren’t cut from that cloth. Most people aren’t. You’d maybe hold out for a bit with your hidden wit, but you’d inevitably be offered up as a loan in her many dealings, getting passed around from ship to ship as a highly sought-after medic until you’d work yourself into an early grave. Only then would she lose interest and only because your market value would be at zero.

His injuries have been healing nicely, but he still needs your care. He makes up his mind to let you stay on his ship for the time being. At least until Jade’s interest in you has died out or until his injuries are completely healed. Whichever one comes first.

And that initial condition is forgotten about too. Jade’s interest in you never wanes and his scars have faded, but that’s not the reason why he lets you stay. You’re quite the handy person, proving yourself to be skilled in tasks outside of medicine. You surprise him with your skill in carpentry and business, although he already knows about the latter thanks to Jade. He’s a horrible cook, but you manage to save yourselves from starvation with your talent in the kitchen.

Aventurine begrudgingly admits that you’re also fun to be around as time goes on. You’re quite the charming storyteller with a never-ending trove of stories to share. Many of your nights are shared together under the starry skies with a tankard of rum in hand as he listens to your animated and slightly slurred narration of stories you penned earlier that day, or accounts about your former life in a port town and the… interesting experiences you’ve had.

“Interesting” is putting things lightly, he decides one night after you described how you chased off some unsavory pirates looking to rob your office of valuable medical supplies with a saw and a kitchen knife. And chased off? More like scared half to death.

He also learns that you’re musically gifted as well. He’s off pawning off your latest treasures while you wander around after gathering necessary supplies as per usual. You had agreed to meet back on the ship but he instead finds you standing in front of a music store, eyeing the instruments they have on display in the window.

“You play?” he asks as he approaches your side.

“Yeah,” you respond without taking your eyes off the window. “Was how I made money before I became a certified nurse. I’d take a gig every night at the local tavern and see how much money a crowd of drunk men was willing to throw at me.”

“And?”

“You’d be surprised. If there’s one thing pirates are good at, it’s getting drunk and throwing their earnings at the first pretty thing they see after months at sea.”

“Do you still want to play?”

You tear your eyes away from the display to meet his gaze for a second, before looking away again.

“... Part of me misses it. Just a bit.”

“...”

You leave the store with a skip in your step and the nicest violin they had for sale in your hands, courtesy of your captain. Music now drifts through the ship and sometimes you’ll perform what you’ve been practicing for him after dinner. He’ll clap along, but you notice he never sings or even hums along…

You have company now as well. Long after you’ve weighed the anchor, you discover a stowaway onboard in the form of a black cat tearing through your food stockpiles.

“You thief!” you exclaim as you lift it by the scruff and hold it up to eye level. It’s tiny… is it a kitten or just malnourished? It meows pitifully and licks the finger you extend after cautiously sniffing it, a little sliver of pink peeking out and scraping against your skin.

The poor thing is… kind of… cute.

“Oh? What’s this?” comes an irritatingly familiar voice behind you. You spin around to see the familiar visage of your captain smiling down at the cat in your hands with amusement. “A stowaway, eh?”

“I caught this little thief digging through our rations. Captain, what do you suggest we do?”

He raises his eyebrows in feigned shock. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he thinks.

“A heinous crime,” he proclaims with drama dripping from his words. “A fitting punishment for a crime is needed.”

“Your verdict?”

“The cat can put itself to good use by staying aboard our ship and hunting down mice. Cats are also a symbol of good luck on ships, you know.”

Without further ado, he swoops in and snatches the cat out of your hands. It purrs loudly as he strokes its cheeks.

Didn’t take much convincing for him to fold, you think as you scratch its chin. It closes its eyes and its ears twitch.

“Shouldn’t we give it a name? Captain, any suggestions?”

A big mistake on your part.

“How does the name Doubloon sound?”

“... Doubloon?”

Aventurine sets the cat down and tosses a gold coin out there. The cat immediately goes running after it, green eyes wide and pupils dilated. It pounces on the coin and tussles with it, biting on the metal like its prey.

“Never mind. It’s fitting. Doubloon it is.”

It’s nice, he admits. He has a handy crewmate who is capable of all sorts of tasks and can deal with his antics, surprisingly. He decides to let you stay aboard indefinitely now. And the cat is a nice bonus too.

Your captain isn’t half-bad company either. He’s still just as annoying as the day you met him, even more so if possible since you’ve gotten to know him. He’s an insufferable flirt, mainly toward you, but also toward others when he wants something. He’ll whisper teasing remarks in your (their) ears, all meant to get under your skin and have you (them) right where he wants. Teasing kisses on your (their) hands and cheeks are commonplace. (Who does he see when he kisses and charms those around him? You or them?) He has a raging gambling addiction, perfectly demonstrated by how he splurged on a poker table and a roulette wheel after only a few discovered treasures. (It doesn’t help how you keep losing every time he challenges you for a round or two.) He never opens up about his past even though you’ve all but spilled your life story to him, from childhood till now. He’ll do as he pleases without warning you beforehand, giving you a scare when he decides to bet his life at a casino or venture deeper than he should into a jungle on a hunch that “there’s more hidden treasure to be found just ahead!”

(You later scold him for his suicidal tendencies while bandaging his wounds with more force than necessary, reminding him that you can hold your own in a fight too! Newly acquired treasure sits just outside the door to the infirmary and he’s beaming all the while, so any hope of changing his mind fizzles out.)

But for all his shortcomings, he makes for a good captain. When confronted by a much larger pirate crew that thinks you’re easy pickings, he first pushes you to safety before diving in headfirst. He distributes treasure fairly and recognizes the value you hold as a medic, always ensuring you have more than enough allotted credits to restock on medicine at every port town. You never find yourself wanting for anything and your days are peaceful. You can sleep in as late as you want and you always have plenty to eat and drink. The ship’s supply of alcohol is always well-stocked with your favorites. You’re richer than ever before and money is of no worry to you now.

The ship also gets several upgrades. After every successful treasure hunt, she gets renovated and upgraded. More masts, an additional sail, a shiny new hull, until there was nothing left of its original structure. Aventurine now commands a true beauty of a ship, one fit for a pirate crew… and perhaps one a bit too big for her measly crew. Most of the ship’s space remains empty. But your quarters are spacious, even bigger than your old room on land. It’s filled with trinkets you’ve collected on your journey and fluffy pillows, and directly connected to the infirmary through a door to make things easy. Even a doctor on land would be envious of the conditions, with plenty of medicine stockpiled and clean from floor to ceiling.

“Shouldn’t we give her a name?” you ask as you set sail the day the last of her original foundation is stripped away. He hums and nods.

“You’re right. Got any ideas?”

“You’re the captain of this ship. You should be the one to decide, not me.”

Aventurine strokes his chin and thinks for a bit.

“How about the Lady Luck?”

“... Seriously? You picked something gambling related?”

He lazily shrugs and grins.

“I’m a gambling man through and through, darling. What else were you expecting from the likes of me?”

A single multicolored eye greets you as he tosses and flicks the poker chip he stole a while ago back and forth. The other eye is obscured by a bejeweled eyepatch and you’re the only one who knows the reason why.

During your first clash against another pirate crew, Aventurine had shielded you from an attack and potentially saved your life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move away in time and took a knife to the eye. You had worked tirelessly around the clock that night to save his vision, but you weren’t able to. It’s a regret you carry with you at all times now.

“You’re right,” he agrees. When he notices you staring at his eyepatch, he grins.

“Still thinking about old times? Let bygones be bygones now, (Name),” he jokes as he lifts the eyepatch up, revealing the cloudy iris that indicates his vision loss. His words don’t have the intended effect though, and you wordlessly trail your finger down the scar cutting cleanly through the center of his brow bone to his cheekbone. He tenses a bit at the contact, but relaxes at your gentle touch after a few moments.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“I won’t let you,” you state bluntly and it’s the way you say it that makes Aventurine laugh.

“Of course you wouldn’t, sweetheart. You’re my voice of reason.”

“But why? Do you not like them?”

Aventurine struggles to find the words for once and he makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter.

“… Not particularly,” he admits. There’s a scowl on his face. “They’re unnatural. Don’t tell me you’ve met another person with eyes like mine?”

“Well, that’s true, but-”

Venom creeps into his voice and his scowl deepens.

“There’s so many rumors swirling out there now. Haven’t you heard?”

“No,” you answer truthfully. Aventurine hopes you never hear any of the horrible rumors surrounding him.

You sigh and push his bangs out the way of his good eye.

“I think they’re quite pretty, actually.”

It’s supposed to be an innocent compliment. They really are pretty. Like the colors of a winter sunset, but more intense.

But to your surprise, your captain flinches at your touch and it sends a shock wave of guilt through you. He never shies away from your touch, instead always seeking it out like a spoiled house cat.

To make matters worse, he gets up and leaves. But before he does, you glimpse the expression in his eyes- guilty and defensive, like a wounded animal. The door to his quarters slams shut behind him and all you can do is stand there, frozen with shock.

“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”

Aventurine leans against his bedroom door and quietly groans. He knows you meant it as a genuine compliment and that it was wrong of him to react the way he did, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d still think of him the same way if you knew about the story behind his eyes. Would you think of him any less? Aventurine doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he ever saw you look at him with hate and disgust. Or even worse, if you’d end up like everyone else, waiting for the day those eyes grew dull and lifeless.

… He’d gouge his eyes out and walk the plank if that ever happens.

He can’t stop himself from spiraling until he hears a knock at his door.

“Captain?”

He quietly laughs. You always did have a knack for showing up at the perfect time.

The door cracks open, and he sees you standing there with a worried and guilty expression. It makes him feel even worse. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known because he never told you, and he was hoping it’d stay that way, but it looks like he won’t be able to take the coward’s way out on this one.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize my words would affect you that much.”

“It’s alright. I know you meant it as a compliment. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You narrow your eyes at him in confusion.

“Then why…?”

Aventurine lets out a resigned sigh and steps out onto the deck again, suddenly finding his quarters stuffy.

“It’s a long story. But would you like to hear?”

“I have plenty of time.”

Sitting side by side on the deck that night, he tells you everything about his past that he’s willing to reveal. Some parts have a clever twist that hides the truth while others have been outright omitted. But it’s the closest version of his backstory that he can share without coming clean, and he’s not ready for that- not yet, at least.

“I’ve failed in this aspect of being captain,” he admits as silence blankets the air after his story. “I’ve been keeping too many secrets from you.”

“Captain, everyone’s got their own skeletons in their closets. I know and trust you well enough by now to understand that if you’ve been keeping something secret from me, it’s because you’re not ready to share it, and I respect that.”

You sigh and look up at the stars overhead. It’s a perfectly clear night with mild winds and calm seas.

“… It’s just that one day, I do wish you’d open up more. We’ve been with each other since day one and I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”

He swallows nervously.

“And what if doing so makes me a bad person?”

You fix him with that stare that makes his spine tingle uncomfortably. It’s the look you give him whenever you suspect he’s lying during checkups and you’re prying for the real answer.

“… Well, we’re pirates after all. We’re not exactly good people, are we?”

He can’t help the laugh of relief that escapes him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t.”

Aventurine also likes to… spoil you, to put it lightly. As your finds become more valuable, the amount of credits he spends on you grows. Clothes are a common gift. Thin silks that feel like you’re wearing nothing, plush furs to drape yourself in, heavy down-stuffed winter coats for ventures up north, and frilly dresses that are a better fit for royalty in your eyes are all sent your way. It’s not an uncommon sight to return to the ship and see several men struggling under the weight of all his purchases while you were busy restocking. It gets to a point where you tell him to stop because your closet is overflowing, but he never listens. “It’s the least you deserve,” is what he always says. “Anything for my beloved nurse that has stuck with me through thick and thin!” At least half of the space in your formerly spacious quarters is now occupied by overflow from your closet.

You also get an upgrade to your uniform around this time. Before, it was whatever you had lying around, but now you have a dedicated set of dresses and pinafore aprons, as well as a nurse’s cap to top it all off.

Cosmetics are also another common gift. He’ll constantly gift you lipsticks with the request to try them all on or expensive perfumes he knows you’ll like. He even gets you an elaborate vanity at one point to store everything. It’s a beautiful, heavy thing made from bronze and requires the strength of four men to carry. There’s a large mirror in the center with ornate molding surrounding it and two smaller ones flanking it. You’ll often see Aventurine leaning against the doorframe through one of them, watching you with a bemused look as you get ready in the morning.

(That is, until you begin throwing pillows at his head and yelling at him to get out.)

But you begin to notice some strange things about your captain as time goes on. You’ll struggle with a chunk of meat during dinner while his unnaturally sharp teeth will tear through it with ease. They’re especially noticeable whenever he smiles, genuine or not. The large, sharp canines gleam under the sun. At one point, you asked if he purposefully sharpens them, partially as a joke, but also out of genuine curiosity. He had thrown his head back and laughed, but he didn’t answer your question. Sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll peek out from behind the door and see the ghostly fire dancing around his blue fingertips. Aventurine’s outfits get progressively more gaudy and flashy as time goes on, and one thing he adds to his wardrobe rotation are metal nail guards. But even so, you notice his fingernails peeking out from underneath that are better described as claws. Heavy gold chokers and necklaces stacked on top of each other are an obligatory part of his look but on the rare occasion he decides to ditch the weight and opts for a high-collared linen shirt instead, you swear those are scales you see peeking out beneath the slipping collar after a long day.

But you merely look the other way. As long as Aventurine remains a good captain, you don’t care who- or what- he is.

It’s around this time you get the third addition to the crew as well.

You’re docked at a pristine port town, which is a rarity to come by. White houses with blue roofs line the cliff sides. The streets are white too and the stone used to form them has been worn down and smoothed out by years of wear and tear. The warm air smells sweet and salty and vaguely of hay. In the town square, it transforms into something heavier and richer. The flowering trees blooming throughout make the air feel almost thick, while the persistent smell of sunbaked herbs and the local cuisine follow you everywhere from the restaurants and food stalls.

Aventurine is pawning off your latest finds at yet another Bonajade Exchange branch (??? Seriously, how many branches does this pawn shop have?) while you’re enjoying yourself in the town square, having already picked up on supplies and sent them back to the ship. The town comes to life at night. There’s a live band playing on a stage set up a few minutes prior with people dancing and drinks being passed around openly even though you’re in the middle of the town square and not in a tavern. You indulge a little, but eventually decide you’ve had enough for the night after a few too many men were too insistent on buying you a drink even after you’ve declined their offers.

The rocking motion of the ship would make most people nauseous, especially someone that just had a few drinks, but you’ve long since gotten used to being at sea. Solid ground underfoot feels unfamiliar now and you let out a content sigh once you’re finally back in your quarters. You get settled in for the night as you wait for your captain to return and proudly show off his earnings from a night of gambling, like he always does. A candle is lit, filling your space with warmth and light as you resume reading a book that Aventurine had picked up for you earlier today.

You’re not sure how long you read for, but when you next look up, you’re shocked at how dark it is outside. A quick glance at your candle that’s almost burnt-out on the nightstand tells you it’s been at least a few hours- and yet, no sight or sound of your captain onboard. It’s silent, save for the sloshing of the waves against the hull outside and the crackling of the wick’s flame as it fights for survival.

Shouldn’t he be back by now?

Curious and concerned, you go searching. Knowing him, he’s either drinking or gambling the night away. With some guidance from the locals, you scout out every tavern and casino in town for him. A quick peek into the windows or door is enough for you- there’s no sign of his blond hair or ostentatious pirate hat anywhere. As an added bonus, catcalls follow you everywhere and it’s enough to make you want to punch your captain in the face when you do see him.

After a while of running around, you’ve just about had it. You’re exhausted, it’s late, and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell could he have run off to now?

At your wit’s end now, you look at your surroundings and realize you’ve ended up at a university. You do remember seeing a map of the town the day you docked and recall a university in the northernmost reaches of the town limits. This is probably it. And from the looks of it, it’s not that big. Just a few buildings make up the entire campus.

One thing you notice walking around is a flight of stairs leading up the cliffside to what you assume to be an observatory at the top. It’s not off-limits, so you take your chances and ascend the stairs. It’s a clear night and you’re sure you can get a great view of the town from here. But as you climb, you hear voices drifting down. One of them sounds vaguely like… your captain?

You pick up the pace. The stairs are steep and uneven in some areas. Some steps are wet from what you presume is rainwater and you almost fall on several occasions. (The things you do for this man! He should be thankful that you’re always there to ensure his sorry ass stays in line.)

You’re not sure what you were expecting once you reached the observatory, but it certainly wasn’t… this. You see your captain alright, but he’s pressed against the railing that’s the only barrier between him and a long fall down to the turbulent waters beneath. A man with violet hair who you’ve never seen before faces him with his back toward you, pressing a gun against Aventurine’s chest. Strangely enough, Aventurine doesn’t look terrified. In fact, he seems to take delight in the precarious balance his life hangs in, even going so far as to press the barrel of the gun closer to his chest with that same taunting grin on his face all the while. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that be from alcohol or… something else is up for debate. You’re already used to his suicidal tendencies, but just seeing his face after the events of today pisses you off even more.

“Come on, doc. It’ll be worthwhile, I promise. You surely can’t be satisfied in a place like this, am I right?”

“Captain.”

That blissful look on his face vanishes in an instant, replaced by realization and pure fear. The other man turns around and golden eyes meet your ticked-off gaze. You brush the stranger aside and storm over to Aventurine, who looks more terrified of your wrath than any weapon.

“So this is where you’ve been this entire time. Did you lose track of time or something? Because it’s been hours since you were supposed to return! I was running around town, looking like an idiot trying to find you.”

He holds his hands up like he can defend himself from the onslaught coming his way. You jab your finger at his chest and he pouts as he looks away shamefully.

“(Name), at least hear me out first!” he whines. When you raise an eyebrow, he points over at the other man, who clicks his tongue and pointedly looks away.

“I found ourselves a potential third crewmate and was trying to convince him to join! But it doesn’t seem to be working… Care to try your hand?”

“That’s just another way of saying you’re pawning off the hard work to me!” you complain. And yet you humor his demands anyway.

“You are?”

He hmphs and rolls his eyes. Already, he pisses you off.

“Dr. Veritas Ratio, teacher and scholar. And you are?”

“Nurse (Name), working aboard the Lady Luck under the command of our Captain Aventurine.”

“... Said captain is on the verge of collapsing from alcohol poisoning behind you.”

It’s true. He’s clinging to the railing for dear life, the drinks from earlier catching up to him and hitting like a sledgehammer, you imagine.

“Aeons, how much did you drink earlier?” you grumble as you hoist one arm over your shoulder and awkwardly drag him along. He merely hums and buries his nose into your hair, tripping over his two feet as he attempts to walk.

“Mm… You smell nice, (Name). Like the new perfume I got you… hehe…”

“Answer the question, Captain.”

He opts to press his nose into your hair and inhale.

“Oh, not that much. Just… y’know… a couple tankards of beer.”

Meaning that he’s definitely had at least five of them and counting.

“… I’ve heard everything I needed to hear.”

Thankfully, Dr. Ratio seems to be adept at reading social cues and assists you with helping him down the stairs, albeit slowly and awkwardly. You invite him onto the ship and after taking a look around the medical quarters, he makes himself comfortable at your desk. He seems quite pleased, so you take it as some sort of roundabout compliment as you busy yourself with getting your captain to bed. You flip Aventurine over into the recovery position, who flops around aimlessly like a rag doll. Soon enough, you hear him faintly snoring. When you return, Dr. Ratio has taken one of the books shelved on your desk and began thumbing through it.

“You have medical knowledge?” you ask once the door behind you is shut. He barely looks up from the book and continues flipping through its pages.

“I have the title of ‘doctor’ for a reason.”

A doctor. An actual doctor. One step above you, a nurse. He had access to an education far out of your reach, and you had fought tooth and nail for yours.

You can’t help but feel the first pangs of jealousy sink their claws into you and you avert your eyes, humiliated. What purpose would you have aboard the ship should he join as a doctor? What’s stopping your captain from deciding the man in front of you can do everything you can plus more and throwing you off the ship? Granted, any medical professional, doctor or not, is highly sought-after on pirate ships and you believe your captain is above tossing you aside after you’ve already proven your loyalty to him. But the knowledge that he will always be regarded as one step above you, seen as more valuable, is enough to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Overthinking things, are we?”

He meets your gaze with a sharp look of his own.

“Don’t give me that look. Only a fool who wallows in their own ignorance would do such a thing.”

You hadn’t realized you were glaring at him until now.

“Sorry,” you half-heartedly apologize, taking a deep breath to relieve the tight ball of anger in your chest. You just met this man; you know it’s not right to be pissed at him over something like this, but you can’t help it. You massage your temples and gesture for him to continue.

“I am well aware that you are the longtime nurse aboard this ship, and while I have no doubt you’re just as ignorant as the other fools who proclaim themselves to be intelligent and respected in their fields-“

Is he insulting me to my face?!

“- I will acknowledge that you are at least deserving of your title for keeping you and this ship’s captain alive all this time. A commendable feat considering your lack of a higher education. I thus have no intention of stripping you of your role.”

… Well, that’s your biggest concern addressed. Although, was the remark about your lack of education really necessary?

Now no longer worrying about whether or not you’d find yourself back at that place you swore to leave behind, you relax.

“Then what is your intention?”

He huffs and dramatically snaps the book shut.

“I am first and foremost an educator! My mission is to spread knowledge across the world until ignorance is a cured disease. And yet, the board of trustees at the university are doing everything they can to get me to stay. What a pointless endeavor!”

You cast a doubtful glance at him.

“... But you’re a professor. A fresh batch of students is a fresh batch of minds to educate. Isn’t academia where you thrive?”

Dr. Ratio huffs, like he’s having to explain something repeatedly to a child that doesn’t understand.

“Zero points! How can I possibly be content with my situation, knowing there’s a whole world of ignorance out there just waiting to be fixed? Besides, we don’t get many applicants per year.”

“Would you like a way out then?”

After a beat of silence, he sets your book down and turns to face you fully for the first time that night. You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them.

“Are you offering me a position aboard the ship?”

“That depends. What skills do you have?”

He puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have eight doctorates in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, physics, mathematics, engineering… oh, and astronomy. You would be hard-pressed to not glean some value.”

That last part catches your attention.

“Astronomy, you say?”

We are in need of a dedicated navigator… Aventurine can’t be at the helm 24/7.

You turn your attention back to Dr. Ratio, who meets your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

“Something on your mind?”

“Have you ever tried your hand at being a ship’s navigator?”

He doesn’t look surprised at your question. It’s like he was anticipating it.

“I can’t say I have,” he admits. “But with my knowledge, it should be child’s play.”

“Don’t say that about something you’ve never tried,” you caution. “If you’re really interested, meet me back here at the docks this time tomorrow night. We’ll see how you do.”

The next night, he’s waiting at the docks with several bags lying beside him. Hm, he must’ve packed all his belongings for a life at sea now. Aventurine whistles at him as you lead him aboard.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already, doc. Told you so.”

If looks could kill, Aventurine would be at the bottom of the sea right now.

Once out on the deck, you hand him a sailing chart. Without a hitch, he dives right in. His spyglass is aimed at the sky as he examines the stars and their positions. With your help in hoisting the sails and Aventurine in steering the ship toward the right direction, you’re on track to your next destination.

“Not bad,” you praise. “You’ll need to learn how to steer the ship and how to hoist the sails, but you can learn that in due time.”

“That settles it then, I suppose,” comes Aventurine’s voice from behind. The soft glow of a tea candle flickering within a lantern fills the space as he steps into view.

“Welcome aboard, Ratio.”

He proves to be quite a skilled navigator, and you’re thankful you managed to snatch him up before any other pirate crew could. Even without a sailing chart or in stormy weather, he still manages to ensure you don’t veer off course. It’s truly remarkable, really, as even sailing from north to south is hardly a challenge for him.

He settles into the empty room next door to your quarters. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, with several more stacked on his desk and bed. It perpetually smells like clean linens and chalk from the stash he burns through every week solving whatever problem piques his interest, written out on the rolling blackboard by the windows- or through hurling them at your captain with terrifying strength and speed. Sometimes, you’ll stop and stare at the board for a bit, only to give up after realizing you can’t understand a lick of it. It’s usually something physics or math related. If he’s in the room as well, he’ll try explaining it to you, but it all ends up flying over your head anyway.

Soon enough, he lets you call him by his first name without the title out in front- a privilege not even your captain has. When not found on the deck, he can either be found reading and solving problems in his quarters, or hovering by your side.

“Rum mixed with… lime juice?”

You’re in the kitchen, surrounded by supplies. A new shipment of rum and citruses sits in the corner and you’re going through them, preparing the crew’s rations of alcohol.

You nod and toss the rinds over your shoulder into the garbage.

“Stagnant water on ships is a gold mine for diseases and pests. Alcohol is usually a safer alternative, and while the captain and I painstakingly ensure the water onboard is safe to drink…”

You shrug and take an experimental sip of the mixture. The strong burn of alcohol all but scorches your throat on the way down, but it’s a sensation you’ve long grown accustomed to, even liking it by now. The addition of lime makes you purse your lips and raise your brows approvingly. It would be even better with some sugar but alas, it’s a very costly material to transport, even by Aventurine’s standards.

“I suppose there are some vices that just can’t be shaken, like a pirate’s love for alcohol. The lime also prevents scurvy. I bet they don’t teach you this in med school, do they?”

Veritas begrudgingly shakes his head.

“We’re taught about the dangers of scurvy and waterborne disease obviously, but never resort to such… crude solutions.”

You laugh and push a glass toward him.

“Well, this is your life now, and you chose it. Better get used to how things are done around here.”

“I’m not saying I have anything against your methods, as crude as they may be,” he scoffs as he eyes the drink in front of him. You think you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes and smirk. Perhaps it’s Aventurine’s influence rubbing off onto you, but you spot a perfect opportunity to tease him.

“Drink up. Cheers,” you say, raising your glass in a toast. “It’s not half-bad, I promise.”

He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip before sputtering dramatically, face scrunched up in an amusing expression of disgust. You all but cackle at his reaction and down half your glass in one fell swoop.

“Liar,” is all he can manage out as he chugs water to chase away the burn of the drink.

“You’ll be singing the same tune I am in just a few months’ time. Just wait and see, I guarantee it.”

“Or that’s just your alcoholic tendencies speaking.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t one,” you respond with an eye roll as you finish the last bit of your drink. He looks at you with an expression of faux disgust as you leave, then looks down at his drink again as soon as the door closes. With a sudden burst of effort, he downs all of it. Veritas feels like he’s about to start breathing fire, but he holds it in for a few seconds before shakily exhaling.

“… It’s passable, I suppose. Five points.”

It’s some time after this that you welcome your fourth member aboard.

You’re docked at the only port to a mining town that, to your eyes, is on the verge of becoming a ghost town. It’s not winter yet, so the town hasn’t completely frozen over and snowed in (which is common this far north) but it’s still so bitingly cold. Supposedly, this is the warmest it gets year-round, but you still find yourself shivering underneath all your layers as you pace back and forth to prevent your limbs from turning into icicles. Even Aventurine, who likes to drink and gamble the day away after docking, keeps things on land as short as possible before running back to the ship to warm up. (Not like there are any taverns or casinos in a place this miserable anyway.)

You’re only here because there’s a severe storm blocking your way and this was the only port that you could dock at. All others, including the one you had left, were too far away to even consider rerouting to. Aventurine is absolutely miserable at the situation and you’re no better. Veritas is probably the worst of you three, being even more snippy than usual and holing up in his quarters.

One thing you notice is the lack of trees. According to the locals, severe runoff from mining activities has led to trees spontaneously igniting from the industrial chemicals in the soil, leaving only burnt sticks behind. It’s quite sad, you think. The people here can’t even appreciate nature’s beauty.

Another thing you noticed as soon as you docked are the heavy respirators the residents wear. There are newer models on the market that are lighter, smaller, and just plain better, but the ones you see look like metal helmets from times of war rather than medical devices. They’re old, archaic and clunky. They cover the entire face and you can hear every labored inhale and exhale through the little grate in front of the mouthpiece.

It’s also so, so gray and dreary. A thick smog blankets the town thanks to the smokestack belching chemicals into the air. There’s a persistent acrid stench sticking to your clothes and skin and hair that no matter how hard you scrub, just won’t go away. Your throat feels scratchy and you’re always coughing and soon enough, you’re forced to don the same respirator everyone else does. You’re uncomfortably hot under the full face of metal and your neck is sore from its weight, while the vision in your left eye is always tinged red because of the glass used for the lens. You only wear it when you have to leave the ship, which is almost never. Aventurine laughed at how stupid you looked at first but before long, he was subjected to the same miserable fate as you.

“I can’t wait till we finally leave this place.”

“Tell me about it.”

On the day before you’re scheduled to finally depart, you decide to explore a bit further than you usually do. You hitch a ride with a resident past the outskirts of the town to the residential area. The pollution out here is significantly less, but still dangerously high by all standards. There’s actually vegetation out here! (Sparse blades of grass that haven’t been cut in ages and come up to your kneecaps. The soil is strangely wet and sticky and you wince after seeing the clumps of mud sticking to your shoes, even more so after recalling the extensive soil pollution plaguing the town.) Rows of identical concrete blocks are stacked alongside each other, meant to be bare-bones apartments. Faded slogans are painted onto the sides of them (“peace to the world!” is a common one you see) and there are small playgrounds out in front situated here and there.

It’s where you also find a girl around your age. She sits with her back to you as she hunches over something. It’s the bits of white hair peeking out from under the respirator that get your attention. You nudge the resident you’re walking alongside and look over at her.

“Who’s she?”

“Ah, that’s little Jelena. Though, she prefers to be called Topaz these days. Don’t ask me why.”

“What’s she working on?”

“Who knows? Beats me. All I know is she’s always mumbling something about leaving this place. Utter foolishness, if you ask me. Once you’re here, you’re never getting out.”

You stay put in your tracks examining her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you, continuing with whatever she’s working on. The resident looks at you strangely but after a rushed and awkward wave goodbye, leaves.

“... Miss Topaz?”

She jolts and looks over her shoulder at you. Her respirator obscures her face but her posture is guarded and defensive. You can’t blame her.

“Who’re you? And how do you know my name?”

“A resident passing by told me.”

She takes a quick glance at you from head to toe.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

You laugh, hoping to dispel the tension and take a step forward. She looks a bit nervous, but hasn’t left yet. Good.

“What gave it away?”

“Nobody here has clothes that nice and clean. Or hair that shiny and well-maintained.”

She tugs on her own rags and choppy hair for emphasis. Sensing an opportunity, you sit down next to her and take your scarf off, wrapping it around her. Topaz jolts but stills when she feels how soft the material is. With a sudden effort, she yanks the respirator off her head and tosses it aside carelessly to bury her face further into the scarf.. The underlayer of her hair is a shockingly bright red. You match her actions and toss yours aside too. The acrid smell of polluted air hits your nose but you maintain a pleasant smile even though you want to scrunch your nose up and start coughing.

“Keep it,” you say, patting her shoulders. She rolls the scarf fringe around between her fingers, marveling at how thick the yarn is and how it doesn’t fray immediately. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

Topaz lets the scarf fall from her fingers and looks up at you behind untrimmed bangs.

“... Who are you?”

She’s curious now. An enigmatic smile graces your face.

“Would you like to know?”

A nod.

“Nurse (Name), serving the Lady Luck, a vessel operated under the command of our pirate captain Aventurine.”

“... Pirates?”

Your gaze drifts to her workbook. There’s still questions in her eyes but she turns toward you a bit more to give you a better glance at what she’s working on, sensing your curiosity. A chart filled with lots of numbers and scribbled calculations all around it.

“What’re you working on?”

“Accounting. I’m studying hard to get out of here. Everyone says I shouldn’t bother and just settle down with a husband already, but I have my sights set on something far greater than what this life can give me.”

You sympathetically hum and nod. There’s a loud squeak and something falls into your lap out of nowhere. It’s a… piglet?? Tiny for one as well. It squeals and flails around a bit in your lap until Topaz swoops in and lifts it up.

“Numby! Stop that!”

It squeals some more as Topaz continues lecturing it. You watch the exchange with a mix of confusion and concern for Topaz’s life.

“Is this… your pet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. This is Numby. They’re not just my pet though! They can accurately sense where riches are located and over the years, have even learned how to perform jobs related to security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The expression on your face must speak for yourself because she laughs and tosses you a gold coin. Numby squeals and flails in her arms, trying to go after it, but Topaz doesn’t budge.

“Don’t believe me? Toss this coin out there and watch Numby go after it.”

You catch the coin deftly. Topaz covers Numby’s eyes and hands you a pocket knife. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go bury it. Give Numby a challenge. Not like it really is one, but make them jump over a hurdle or two.”

“You can use weapons?”

“Course I can.”

She looks up at the perpetually gray sky and the plumes of pollution being spewed out.

“There’s not a lot of people here, but life is hard and sometimes people try to take out their frustrations on those around them. Crime is a lot more rampant than you’d expect in a place like this, and unless you want to be robbed completely defenseless, it’s a given to always have something on you.”

You feel like your lucky stars have aligned and all the Aeons themselves are smiling down on you. By Aventurine’s luck, this girl is everything you need all in one package! You feel like this is hardly real.

“What weapons can you use?”

She shrugs. “Knives, mostly. They’re the most accessible around here. But I have experience with guns too. Swords as well. Nabbed them off the drunken sailors a while back to protect myself and Numby against some idiots who had the really bright idea to turn them into bacon.”

… You feel like you’re ascending right now. Everything is aligning exactly the way you need them to.

“Stolen a few times before, eh? Looks like you’ve already got experience in piracy.”

She scowls at you and you take that as your cue to bury the coin. You choose a location that’s a few apartment blocks down from hers. The knife sinks easily into the sticky, polluted soil as you dig a little hole before burying the coin. You avoid getting any dirt on your hands, not wanting to even think about what the contamination could and would do to your skin…

“Finished,” you call out as you make your way back to her. Topaz lifts her hand from Numby’s eyes and with a slap to the rear, sends the piglet running. They run faster than you expected them to with their stubby legs and soon disappear from sight.

“They’ll be waiting for us where the treasure is. But in the meanwhile, we can walk and talk.”

The two of you begin walking side by side, this time with less tension in the air.

“What a drag it is being pressured to settle for less,” you empathize, shifting the conversation back to the earlier topic. “What do you want to be?”

“A businesswoman of sorts, climbing up the ladder until I’m sitting at the top. Then no one can tell me what to do.” Even as she walks, she still continues to work, her pencil flying across the page as she performs calculations faster than you can keep up with.

You raise your eyebrows and let out an “ohhhhhhh” in response. A golden opportunity has presented itself.

“Well, what do you want in life then?”

“... I suppose it’s to solve problems. There’s many of them that exist in this world and I like solving them. It makes me feel nice, knowing I’m doing something to improve people’s lives.”

“Why not a teacher or something similar then? You’re quite good at math, after all.”

She shakes her head. “Not enough jobs in education around here. The nearest school is in the neighboring town, which is over half an hour away. The nearest university is several hours away in the city. There’s no demand for education in these parts, so there’s no supply of jobs and the current positions are occupied by people who’d rather die than resign.”

She flips to the next page and dives right in.

“But companies are always hiring, right? I heard from the sailors down at the dock that there’s a few that are rapidly growing and are in need of people. So that’s why I want to become a businesswoman. Because it’s the fastest way to achieve what I want- happiness. And that’s how a job should be.”

You drum your fingers along your arm excitedly and lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. Drawn in by your expression, Topaz can’t help but lean in a bit too.

“What if I said that although I can’t land you a job at a big company, I can guarantee you riches and a chance to explore the world? You can also finally escape those annoying aunties who keep pestering you about marriage and sending men your way who you can’t even bear to look at,” you whisper, temptation and promise dripping from every word.

Her pencil stills, she comes to a halt, and she looks at you fully for the first time. Her eyes are a brilliant purple with flecks of blue and yellow. Despite the harsh conditions surrounding her, they still retain plenty of life. Quite different from Aventurine, you think. Makes you wonder what he went through to have the life sucked out of his eyes.

But soon enough, there’s a scowl back on her face and she begins walking again.

“Money is a means, not an end. I may be poor, but I’m not studying out of greed. Work should make you happy. If that’s all there is to offer, then I won’t be happy and I can’t have that happening.”

“How does solving long-buried mysteries sound? It should scratch that problem-solving itch of yours.”

She hesitates and you can tell she’s starting to seriously consider your offer. You just have to keep pushing and choosing your words carefully.

“I don’t see how piracy helps anyone though,” she says stubbornly and you mentally sigh. She really wants to know what she’s getting herself into, huh? But that’s already two of her three needs you’ve got checked off and you already have a counterargument prepared for this.

“We only search for and discover buried treasure that no one has laid claim to and is free game for all interested pirates,” you calmly respond. “None of that town-looting business you might hear about from the sailors down at the dock. And should you wish to donate your share of money earned to philanthropic organizations or invest it elsewhere… you’re more than welcome to. We won’t stop you.”

From the look on her face, victory has already been secured. And yet, she looks uncertain. Unsure.

“But… Why me? Why little Jelena from this run-down mining town when there are so many smart, talented people out there waiting to be discovered?”

There’s a loud squeal up ahead and Numby is jumping up and down in front of the spot you had buried the coin. Topaz unearths it with the knife and pulls out the dirt-stained coin. So she was right. Even better.

You reach your hand out to her, just like how you did when you made your offer to Aventurine and Veritas.

“Why, it’s simple. We both get what we want. You get a ticket out of here and a hefty share of our riches, while we get a capable bookkeeper who prevents our captain from gambling away too much money, plus a master gunner who’ll defend the ship from foes.”

Your hand remains extended. She stares at it, then at you disbelievingly.

“I…”

You wave the gold coin you plucked out of her gloved hands without her noticing and wave it in front of her face.

“Every investment has its risks, right? I suppose it’s natural to want to pick the one that has the least risk involved when you’re putting down something as important and uncertain as your future as collateral. But you’re still young with plenty of time left and dreams unfulfilled. If you play it safe, you won’t be able to make a killing later on in life. My days are freer now. All of us are. And I know that freedom to do as you please is what’ll bring you that happiness you so desire.”

Silence greets you. You swallow nervously. (You hope she didn’t see it.) You’re no businessperson, but you know an opportunity when you see it. And this is one you absolutely cannot let slip through your fingers. You’re gripping the coin as tight as you can and your hands are cold and clammy beneath your gloves.

Her shoulders begin to shake. Your hand twitches and you think you’ve somehow upset her until she begins to laugh heartily. It’s loud and free, echoing off the walls of the apartment blocks. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in this whole town.

“Wow, talk about a win-win situation! Just the way I like to go about doing business. Nurse (Name), I’ll be under your care going forward!”

She whistles for Numby, who comes running over, oinking.

“... You’re not bringing anything else with you? We don’t have to leave immediately, you know. We still got a whole day before we leave.”

Topaz shakes her head and lifts Numby onto her shoulders.

“Nothing worth bringing along. Besides, what’s a better way to signify a fresh start in life by leaving everything behind?”

“Not saying goodbye either?”

Her enthusiastic demeanor fades to something more solemn and her pace slows.

“... No one here supports my dreams. If they didn’t support me from the very start, they don’t deserve to see me at my proudest.”

You hitch a ride back to the docks with another resident. On the way back, Topaz nudges you in the side.

“Are you sure you aren’t a businessperson? That was a very solid offer you drafted and presented to me back there. I couldn’t have done much better myself. You’ve even got the silver tongue for success as well. Perhaps an ambassador of sorts, at the very least?”

You laugh and brush aside her compliments.

“I’m truly flattered, but I really am just a nurse onboard… oh. Right.”

“... Is something the matter?”

“It’s just… I never told our Captain that a fourth member might be joining us. Ah… he’s in for quite the surprise when we get back to the docks.”

In my defense, it’s not like I could’ve told him anyway while I was so far away from our ship…

Her face falls. Wait, you can’t have this happening already! Not when you just convinced her to join!

“I’ll vouch for you,” you quickly reassure. “He may be annoying and difficult to work with, but he’s not unreasonable. Besides, I’ve been a crewmate for the longest. If there’s anyone he’s going to listen to, it’s me.”

You find Aventurine lounging around in his quarters when you return. He gets up to welcome you back with an eager grin and an embrace, but pauses when he sees Topaz and Numby behind you.

“Oh? Who’s this?”

You plant yourself between them.

“Topaz, meet Captain Aventurine. You’ll be working under him from this day forward.”

As per his usual nature, he merely laughs and extends his hand. Topaz firmly grasps and shakes it.

“A new recruit,” he chuckles. “Welcome aboard the Lady Luck then. We could always use some more helping hands around here. (Name), why don’t you go show her around the ship?”

But there’s a look in his eyes that follows you into the late hours of the night, through showing her the layout of the ship and introducing her to Veritas who looked as if he couldn’t care less, and the extravagant dinner to celebrate her arrival.

You and I need to talk.

It’s only after everyone has gone to sleep that Aventurine seeks you out. Topaz is sleeping soundly in your bed and you’re leaning against the doorframe outside, waiting for him. When he does appear, the usual carefree smirk is gone, instead replaced by a more serious expression.

“Really? A new crewmate without my-”

You violently shush him.

“She’s sleeping!” you hiss. He rolls his eyes but listens all the same.

“... I’m not saying I’m doubting your ability to seek out talented people,” he begins, voice a whisper this time. “But what if she betrays us? And we’ve been just fine so far with the three of us. What can she do that we can’t?”

You roll your eyes.

“Aventurine-”

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

His intense gaze doesn’t waver. Ghost fire sprouts from his fingertips and dances wildly around him. A wisp lands on your hand. It’s warm, pleasantly so.

“Kakavasha. That’s my real name. Call me that, but only when we’re alone.”

“... Really? You decide to finally open up in the middle of an argument?” you grumble. “There’s a time and place for everything, y’know…”

He blinks at you innocently and you resist the urge to push him overboard. Instead, you settle for coughing and swatting the wisp of ghost fire away from you.

“... As I was saying, Captain Kakavasha, she won’t betray us.”

“A bold statement to make with such confidence. How can you say for certain?”

“Kakavasha, this girl came from nothing. You saw the state of town she grew up in. No friends, no connections, no way out. But we gave her the escape she’s been looking for. She won’t sell us out, not while she’s indebted to us.”

You hear a sudden noise behind the door and freeze. It’s silent for several more agonizing moments until you finally relax. She probably just shifted around in her sleep. You really hope she didn’t wake up or hear any of that…

“But if she decides to leave of her own accord to chase her dream further, then who are we to stop her? Of course, even if she tries to turn us in, the authorities won’t be able to catch us,” you joke, trying to ease his fears.

Aventurine hums. He doesn’t look moved.

“So? What can she do that we can’t?”

… But he doesn’t press the prior topic any further so you assume it’s ok for now.

You beam and hold out the workbook you swiped off her earlier.

“Captain, we’ll have a dedicated accountant on board now! Just look at this. I saw her complete this entire page in no more than five minutes! Not only is she fast, but she’s accurate! Here, check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Aventurine takes it and examines it with an air of disinterest surrounding him. He glances at it for a few seconds before tossing it back.

“Yeah, it’s all correct.”

“But that’s not all!” you continue. “Her little pet that’s always following her? Apparently, they’re skilled in security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The silence that follows your statement speaks for itself.

“... Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you drunk right now, (Name)?”

“Hey!” you exclaim indignantly, before remembering that Topaz is still asleep. “I am not! I’ll admit, I was just quoting her claims but her pet is really good at detecting treasure. I buried a gold coin and they found it with no trouble. Kakavasha, imagine how useful they would be.”

“Pigs are a symbol of good luck aboard a ship…” he mumbles to himself and it’s a sign you’re a step closer to convincing him.

“... Should we introduce her to Jade?” you ask. Aventurine looks at you like you’re insane. Then, as if considering your offer, looks at your door as if seeing through it to the girl sleeping in your bed.

“I know you’re good at math and business too, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else equally as skilled on board? With a bit of refinement from Jade, she’ll be just as qualified as any other licensed professional out there,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “If you want me to be the bookkeeper as well, I can do that no problem. If you’re adamant about her joining, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Your pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and don’t call me that, especially right now,” you growl. He merely hums and smiles, his expression strangely cat-like. He wants to make things difficult for you? Fine. Time to bring out the big guns then.

“She’s skilled with weapons.”

“...”

“How skilled? And with what types?”

Checkmate.

“Knives, mostly. But she has experience with guns and swords too.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head and hear his thoughts. He must be thinking about the weapons piled away in the armory with no one skilled enough to use them. With Topaz on board, they’d be put to good use for once- and after enough training from her, there was nothing the crew would fear.

“... Of course, I still have to personally see what she’s capable of.”

He glances at the clock hanging above his dresser mirror.

“I’ll see to it tomorrow morning. Tell her to meet me on the deck first thing after waking up. I’ll be testing her aim and accuracy, among other factors.”

You’re woken up the next morning by the sound of gunshots. Several of them. Thinking you’re under attack, you scramble to your feet and stumble onto the deck only to see Topaz shooting some bottles lined up on the railing- and she’s hitting every one of them.

Aventurine takes in the sight of you in your pajamas and unbrushed hair. A snort escapes him.

“Good morning, my lovely nurse. Did you sleep well?”

… The nerve of this man. Then again, he did warn you the night before, so it’s not like you can blame him for your own forgetfulness.

He stops you before you can storm off though, beckoning Topaz over.

“Congratulations,” he says while clapping. “Thanks to my beloved’s recommendation and your mastery over weapons, I hereby welcome you aboard the ship as our master gunner, Topaz.”

She excitedly shakes his hand before enveloping you in a bone-crushingly tight hug.

“Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll pay you back double- no, triple the amount of investment you’ve put in me. And I always deliver on my promises!”

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you watch her run down to where your quarters are.

… But I never saw it as you owing me?

Aventurine’s light laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. You scowl at him as he stops before you, gently combing out the tangles in your bedhead with his fingers.

“Stop referring to me by those pet names. People are going to get the wrong idea about us.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“Veritas has already been giving me strange looks whenever he sees us two together. Add Jele- Topaz into the mix and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Handle what? Sweetheart, it’s just the four of us out on the open sea!”

He spins you around in his arms and you let yourself be dragged along.

“That’s exactly what I mean! And don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“You-!”

Topaz settles into the room across the hall from yours. While the space is initially barren, it quickly gets filled up thanks to you. She raids your overflowing wardrobe and takes whatever interests her periodically and half the time, you don’t even realize what she stole thanks to your captain constantly spoiling you. Cosmetics are another common victim of her theft, but it’s more noticeable, especially if it’s a perfume. Books that you’ve finished are piled up in her room and she’ll often come to you with questions about your thoughts after she’s finished reading one. Numby has their own little bed at the foot of hers and you’ll frequently see them chasing Doubloon around the deck.

It seems that Topaz is good at everything and anything she sets her mind to, because she becomes frighteningly skilled with weapons in a short period of time. Every day, she holds lessons teaching you all how to use an array of weapons, and she’s quite the skilled teacher too. But when class isn’t in session, she can often be found out on the main deck during a sunny day, humming a tune to herself as she cleans out the many pricey pistols and rifles you’ve plundered over the course of your journeys. Or by your side, but that’s a given by now.

She also gets… seasick. Rather easily too. It’s her one fatal weakness. She gets used to it over time, but if the seas are rougher than usual, it’s guaranteed that you’ll find her hurling into the ocean, face pale and hair sticking to her forehead. And sometimes, it’ll still happen even when the seas are calm! It gets to the point where she’s so fed up she goes to Aventurine himself and demands answers. But he merely tips his head back and laughs.

Aventurine pats the shiny wooden helm. As if responding to him, she creaks and rolls precariously even though the waves are calm.

The four of you now are a complete crew. Incredibly small by all means, but a crew that operates smoothly like a well-oiled machine and one to be feared.

As there’s so few of you on board, all of you have to double down, or even triple down, on roles. Veritas is simultaneously the boatswain and navigator, while Topaz is master gunner and master at arms while also being the bookkeeper. You’re “the ship’s beloved nurse”, as so lovingly referred to by Aventurine, while also being the quartermaster. Smaller roles such as cooking and carpentry are handled on a day by day basis and whoever’s available at the moment- although it usually ends up being you after Numby ran amok in the kitchen and almost burnt the ship down.

Guess being second in command is the bare minimum you deserve after being with him the longest among everyone on board. Although, there’s no real sense of hierarchy when there’s only four of you in total…

Unlike other pirate captains out there, he wasn’t a rich man or a legitimate captain or even a high-ranking officer on a private vessel before becoming captain. Rather, there’s almost nothing known about him and it’s what makes others regard him with suspicion. How can a man who started off with nothing sail the seas with such ease, outshining even those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths?

But it’s all forgotten about in the face of his achievements- always going where no man has dared gone before and finding treasures beyond a pirate’s wildest imagination, as well as discovering several legendary treasures that have been lost for generations. Sea monsters that have been terrorizing ships for years meet their watery demise by your hand with Topaz leading the fray. Even the harshest of seas and weathering three days and nights with little sleep and food isn’t enough to shake your spirits. Mythical beasts meet death one after another and it’s around after the third creature slayed- a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern, strong enough to crush her hull into splinters with ease- that you know you’ve made a name for yourselves. Whispers follow you everywhere you go on land and you’ll always hear dramatized retellings of your battles and treasures discovered while passing by taverns.

The bounty on your heads also increases with each treasure you discover. It wasn’t until the four of you banded together that wanted posters started being put out. The amounts offered started off small at first, but after more and more valuable treasures were discovered, the number of zeros at the end keeps increasing until it’s the staggering number it is today. It becomes a point of pride, seeing how quickly the amount offered spikes with each town you stop at and you’ll have a good laugh over it, especially if the authorities think they’re fast enough to arrest you. You’ll take your sweet time fleeing as officials scurry after you like drunken idiots with two left feet- and giving them a fair share of trouble too. By the time they catch up with you at the port, you’re already long gone with a stash of stolen weapons and alcohol onboard- and a horrifyingly long tab under their name at the local tavern.

All the while having a crew of only three under Aventurine’s command. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime kind of pirate captain.

As word spreads from port to port about his unbelievable luck in finding treasure, his reputation grows and so does the number of people looking to join his crew. At every port, he welcomes anyone wishing to join with open arms. But not everyone is worthy of joining. You secretly put every applicant through a series of tests to see if they’re qualified including, but not limited to: seeing what skills they have to offer that you don’t possess already, if they can handle Ratio’s admittedly hardass personality at times, if they can satisfactorily perform the jobs of upwards of three people, as well as their motives among others.

And of course, dealing with Aventurine. He’s in a category of his own.

As expected, none of them last more than an hour. Shame. More hands on deck would always be appreciated.

All of this leads to your reputation as a small but tight-knit crew that would defend each other to the death. Regardless of the size or might of the ship that dares to challenge you, you always emerge victorious. Whether it be down to dumb luck or the collective desire to protect home, no one makes it out alive after encountering you. It’s enough to tell other pirate crews to steer clear, especially after you had considerably roughed up other crews more than twice your size. After the first few encounters that resulted in many dead pirates, you all decide to raise a red flag. It warns others that your crew will refuse to spare the lives of any opponent that comes your way. You’ve actually seen ships turn and head the other way after seeing yours. Now, whether that be from the red flag or upon recognizing the Lady Luck, you’re not sure, but it means less work for you either way, so you aren’t keen on prying too deep.

Surprisingly, Aventurine doesn’t like to settle things with a duel unless he has to. Rather, his preferred method is with a game. He’ll invite the captain of the other ship below deck for a game of poker or blackjack rather than clashing swords and guns. The wager? The same as usual- the lives of the crew and the supplies on board. The loser and his crew would have to walk the plank and all treasures aboard would be handed over to the winning party. It’s not often it happens, but it’s still a nerve-wracking experience each time. Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

… Safe to say, many a pirate crew have lost their lives and treasure this way.

Like the crew that was idiotic enough to challenge Aventurine’s luck and consequently met their end just a few minutes ago.

You watch as the captain of the ship anchored across from yours goes overboard with a resounding splash. His crew had already jumped before him.

“That’s the last of ‘em,” says Topaz as she confirms with the spyglass. “Ratio and Cap’n are going through and seeing what treasure they had. But what would we do about their ship?”

“Leave it. We don’t have any cannons on board to blast it to smithereens and it's not worth adding another vessel to our fleet.”

Veritas and Aventurine push several treasure chests across the gangplank. Once the last of them are on your ship, Veritas lifts the gangplank and weighs the anchor and soon, you’re off again.

“Let’s see what we have in here,” says Aventurine as you all stroll over curiously. He pops the lids off the chests and collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as you marvel at the sparkling treasure filled to the brim inside. Aventurine lets out an appreciative whistle and lets a handful of multicolored gemstones slip through his fingers.

“Have at it. Go and take your pick.”

Veritas snatches up the sailing charts while Topaz lays claim to the abundance of weapons. Her eyes are sparkling as she looks at the weapons in much need of some love and a deep-cleaning, and you can already tell what she’ll be up to for the next week or so. Meanwhile, you go through the chests with slim hope they’ll contain some medical supplies. To your disappointment, but not surprise, you find none. You instead settle on some pearl jewelry that catches your eye.

“You guys barely took anything,” comments Aventurine as he peers into the chests again. “They’re still practically full.”

“That’s because gold and jewelry can only get us so far,” you remind him as he steps behind you to fasten the string of pearls around your neck. The cold metal of his nail guards and warmth of his fingertips lightly brushing over the nape of your neck make you shudder. From the faint chuckle that escapes him, your action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Credits are where it’s really at,” adds Topaz as she gets to sharpening and polishing a sword. Aventurine rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Of course the budding businesswoman would say that.”

He barely ducks out of the way in time to avoid Numby being chucked toward his head.

Heavy wind and rain batters the Lady Luck later that night. But it’s cozy and warm beneath the deck in your dining room. Mismatched dishes and cups cover the round table the four of you are seated around, the food having long since been polished off. Numby is in a food coma by Topaz’s feet and Doubloon purrs contentedly in your lap. Veritas had gone off to bed earlier and Topaz is mumbling incoherently to herself, having drank more than she usually does in one sitting. With Aventurine’s help, you help Topaz to her feet and tuck her into bed while Numby sleepily trots after you.

The two of you are back in the kitchen, silently doing the dishes and cleaning the space. When you’re finished, you bid him goodnight until you feel his hand latch onto your sleeve.

“What is it?”

“... Stay. Please.”

“... Captain, did you have too much to drink at dinner earlier?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Not even tipsy.”

The pink flush on his cheeks makes you doubt his words, but you let him lead you toward his quarters. The space is warm and extravagantly decorated. Atlases and maps are piled atop the heavy wooden desk in the corner with several candles burning throughout that fill the room with light. His wardrobe is even more packed than yours, overflowing to the point where you can barely make out the original floor beneath the heaps and piles of clothing. You carefully step over what you believe is a pile of silken robes on the way to his bed, where you lay him to sleep amongst the many fluffy pillows and heavy blankets covering the mattress.

He stops you again as you’re about to leave.

“Don’t.”

“Captain, you have to go to sleep soon.”

“I’m not tired,” he argues childishly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

The uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice has you straightening up. You cast a glance at the door to ensure it’s locked as he sits up and drapes a luxurious fur over your shoulders. He pats the empty space next to him and after a moment of hesitation over the implications of getting into bed with your captain, you join him.

“Truth be told, I haven’t been able to sleep lately,” he laments. “I’ve been plagued by nightmares…”

It’s only now you notice the dark circle under his exposed eye and a pang of guilt strikes your heart. You cautiously remove the bejeweled eyepatch and expose his blind eye- a privilege granted to only you- and frown at the sight.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“A while now,” he grumbles. You click your tongue and your frown deepens.

“Why didn’t you come to me about this earlier?”

Aventurine rolls his eyes.

“Please. It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty head over.”

The remark has the opposite effect he intended. You glare at him and angrily tug on his ear.

“Captain, I think you’ve forgotten this, but it’s our duty to ensure you’re fit to sail even if you do piss us off to no extent at times. I’m responsible for ensuring you’re in good health, Topaz is responsible for making sure we can defend ourselves, while Ratio is in charge of making sure we don’t veer off course. We are all your responsibility just as much as you are ours.”

He sighs and looks away. Figures. He should’ve known better than to expect you’d let his neglectfulness slip by the wayside. Meanwhile, you roll your neck and irritatedly sigh.

“You mentioned nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”

He keeps avoiding eye contact. With a resigned sigh, you lean against him languidly, head resting on his shoulder. Aventurine stiffens, clearly not used to touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. A hand comes to grasp yours.

“... They always start off the same way,” he begins. “We’re lost at sea somehow and there’s always foul weather. Amidst the lighting, a ghost ship is illuminated.”

He swallows.

“We then investigate that ship to discover that her hull is filled to the brim with gold and treasures alike, but no captain or crew on board.”

Aventurine begins fiddling with the poker chip he always carries on him.

“And this is where things can change. Sometimes, I’ll turn and see that she’s hung you all before my eyes. Other times you’ll all have gone overboard, drowned by a rogue wave snatching everyone up except for me. Sometimes she’ll even steal my sight. Either way, they all end the same way. I’m cursed to be her captain forever, sailing the seas without an end in sight. A captain that didn’t go down with his ship and left without a crew.”

He lets out a dry, humorless laugh and tucks the chip back into his pocket. You swallow dryly.

“Do you think it has anything to do with…?”

You look down at his hands, then back up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

“... How much do you know?”

It sounds more like a threat than a question- but a weak one at that. You scoff and take his hands in yours, taking care to remove the nail guards one by one as well.

“What do you mean by that? Kakavasha, you know by now I couldn’t care less about who you are. And honestly, I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” you sigh as you remove his hat and the teal bandana wrapped around his head. “All this time together and I was under the impression you held me in higher regard than that.”

“Cut the theatrics,” he grumbles. You toss his hat and bandana off to the side and pull the blankets snugly over you both.

“But a ghost ship, hm?” you say, eyeing the stack of open books on his desk. “That’s never a good sign. Surely we’re not sailing towards our imminent deaths, right?”

He draws you closer as you roll over onto your stomach and gaze up at him with sleepy eyes. He feels his heart somersault at the proximity and your warmth seeping into the sheets. It’s an unfamiliar feeling he’s not quite comfortable with yet and tries to play it off with a laugh.

“I’d sure hope not.”

But it’s the first time he’s met your gaze this entire night. You meet his eyes unflinchingly, as you always do, with a lazy smile as you shift onto your side.

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

Aventurine shakily exhales. There’s still more on his mind but… forget it. They’re not worth worrying you over.

“... If you say so, sweetheart.”

“‘Course I do. Because I believe in your abilities.”

He stares at you disbelievingly before bursting out into laughter.

“You really are something, you know? Something so incredible I could practically kiss you right now.”

“Then do it.”

Your gaze is steadfast like it’s always been ever since joining. Not once have you ever flinched away from witnessing every aspect about him, both pretty and ugly. Every reckless, stupid, horrible decision he’s ever made was an attempt to chase you off the ship so you wouldn’t see him for who he really is. But for some reason, whether it be your persistence or having figured out his motives, you’ve stuck around.

He’s a coward of a man at heart, but you’ve surely seen through his grandeur by now. You may pretend to be a mere nurse, but Aventurine knows that’s far from the case. You surely have to know his biggest, darkest secret by now, yes?

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell Ratio that you’re the one who’s been leaving obscene doodles on his chalkboard and Topaz that you’re the reason for Numby’s sudden weight gain.”

“Seems like my hand has been forced,” he chuckles. “Fine. You win this round, my beloved nurse.”

The rain continues pouring outside, but it’s still warm and dry beneath the deck. And if one kiss leads to something that lasts until the candles burn out, then…

That’s a secret for you to keep then, yes?

It’s not the sun that wakes you the next morning. Rather, it’s the weight of a blond man sprawled out on top of you that does.

“Kakavasha… get off me. You’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”

“Mmm… no. You’re comfy.”

His arms tighten around your waist as you flail around and try to shake him off.

“Captain, your duties and crew await you! Let go of me!”

After some more incessant squirming and an accidental kick to his stomach, he finally relents. You shake him off and get ready for the day, trying to not think about what transpired last night as you change and do your makeup. The mere thought of it is enough to make your face heat up several degrees…

When you’re finished, you peek into his room on the way to the main deck out of curiosity, only to see he’s still in the same spot you left him in. When he sees you glaring at him disapprovingly from the doorway, he perks up.

“Help me get ready?”

“Captain, you are a grown ass man.”

“Pretty please?”

He hurries to his feet and scurries over, before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. He fixates you with those big, watery dual-colored eyes and you just can’t bring yourself to say no even though you know he’s playing you like a fiddle

“... Fine. But just this once. And not a word to Ratio and Topaz, got it?”

“Understood, my dear nurse!”

You start by all but tossing his clothes toward him, then turning and facing the other way resolutely as he gets dressed.

“Won’t you help your poor captain out here?”

A loud “oof!” escapes him as you toss his long coat over your shoulder. The weight of it, gold embellishments and gems and all, knocks him flat on his back and onto his bed again. He takes his sweet time getting dressed after that, grumbling all the while until he’s done.

The wealth of accessories he wears are next. Aventurine slips on the pair of golden anchor earrings that are as heavy as one as you layer his necklaces the way he likes them. He preens like a bird under your attention and you have to fight back the comment likening him to a peacock that brews on the tip of your tongue.

You re-wrap the bandana around his head before placing his hat on slightly tilted- just the way he likes it. Almost done. Just one last touch before he’s ready. You pull out a tin of salve and dab it onto the scar over his eye. Aventurine scrunches his nose up in distaste at the strong herbal smell, but lets you do as you please. You pat it dry and secure his eyepatch, nodding in satisfaction at your handiwork.

“Perfect. There’s our captain, ready to command and conquer the seas.”

“I think you meant to say my captain, especially after last night. Weren’t you the one-”

You shut him up with a zealous kiss to the lips that has him sighing in bliss when you pull away, a dazed expression on his face and a pretty shade of pink on his lips that matches the one on yours.

For such an eccentric man, he sure can be predictable when you have him dancing in the palm of your hand.

The skies are cloudier and darker than you’d like them to be when you step out onto the deck. It’s also quite windy too. Veritas is lowering one of the sails while Topaz is on lookout duty. Upon seeing the two of you hand in hand, the former scoffs and rolls his eyes while the latter whistles obnoxiously.

“Good morning to you two lovebirds! I take it you had some fun last night?”

You chuck a pastry you had nabbed from the kitchen at Topaz to shut her up. She catches it deftly with one hand while Numby jumps up and down around her, pleading for a bite, but at least it worked. Meanwhile, Veritas is glaring at you with disgust in his eyes.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Oh. Oops.

“You’re just complaining because you’re jealous, doc,” interjects Aventurine with an arm thrown around your shoulder. The purple-haired man scowls angrily and turns on his heel, storming away angrily while grumbling something about the too-thin walls on the ship.

“And wipe that lipstick mark off your mouth,” he snaps at Aventurine. His face flushes guiltily while you snicker behind your hand.

Topaz lifts the spyglass away with a worried look on her face.

“Cap’n, there’s a storm brewing up ahead. A pretty intense one from the looks of it and because the winds are reaching us out here already.”

Normally, he’d laugh such concerns off and lazily give the order to circle around it. But this time, he wordlessly takes the spyglass from her and looks out toward the horizon where dark storm clouds are gathering and swirling.

“... Turn around.”

You think you’ve misheard him and so does everyone else.

“What?”

“Turn the ship around,” he quickly orders as he places the spyglass back into Topaz’s hands and hurries over to the helm. “If we go now at full sail, we should be able to outrun it until it dies out.”

Ratio and Topaz share confused looks but do as he says, obediently hoisting all the sails as Aventurine spins the wheel. The Lady Luck slowly turns around and soon she’s sailing ahead at full speed. Even so, the storm clouds aren’t getting any smaller.

There’s a level of urgency etched into Aventurine’s face that you haven’t seen before as he pushes the Lady Luck to her limits. His hands grip the wheel so tightly you think that any more and the wood would crack. It’s as if he’s trying to outrun something, especially with how often he looks back over his shoulder at the encroaching clouds blanketing the sky in pitch-black darkness.

Even sailing at near-top speeds, you still aren’t able to outrun the storm. Heavy clouds that bring with them an oppressive humidity and electrical charge to the air roll in rapidly, surrounding you on all four sides. There’s a strange buzz in the air and your hair begins to stand on end. There’s a small patch of clear sky in front of you that’s your only escape, and it’s rapidly shrinking.

Come on, just a little faster… just a little more…!

Her prow just barely breaks free of the storm when a sudden flash of lightning temporarily blinds you all. When you open your eyes again, it’s so dark you can only see a few paces in front of you. Not a single shred of light escapes the thick storm clouds rolling overhead that have finally completely moved in, and you realize the sky is tinged a sickly green when lightning flashes. The air is heavy and humid and mere seconds later, heavy, fat raindrops fall from the clouds, splattering angrily against the deck. The temperature plummets and the raindrops condense into giant hailstones, harshly stinging your skin as they pelt you and the deck with harsh cracks. The slippery surface of the deck and angry seas tossing the ship around as if she weighs nothing make it so that you’re constantly sliding into walls and hitting things.

You’re surrounded by the storm with no way out in sight.

Ratio lowers the sails as fast as he can and jumps down the second he’s done. Mere milliseconds later, the boom swings about violently toward the spot he was just at. A moment sooner and he would’ve surely died upon impact.

You regroup by Aventurine’s side, who’s staring at the churning waters with barely-concealed horror. Towering, white-capped waves crash mercilessly against her hull and spill onto the deck. The salty spray of the ocean shoots up as high as the masts and stings your eyes. The continuous gusts of winds threaten to rip the sails off the masts and howl against your ears. The Lady Luck rolls violently amidst the choppy waves and your stomach twists into knots at every drop. Poor Topaz is already throwing up over the side of the ship and Ratio is starting to look a little green.

“So this is it then,” he murmurs under his breath, so quietly you think only your ears heard it. Before you can respond, he gets ahold of himself and gives the order to tie down everything that isn’t secured and for all hands on deck. Veritas and Topaz stumble off first, making quick work of the ship, but you linger by his side a bit longer.

“This is no natural storm, is it?”

“... No,” he responds, his voice clipped as he fights to keep the Lady Luck buoyant. “It isn’t.”

You’re emerging from your quarters when you think you hear a melodic voice drifting over the choppy waves, singing an unknown yet enchanting tune. For all your time spent in taverns and performing in them, you’ve never heard anyone with a voice even close to the one you’re hearing right now. The voice is clear and high-pitched and whoever’s singing hits every note perfectly. You feel yourself go limp and you begin seeking out the voice, even getting up on shaky legs before Veritas yanks you back down. With the last of his strength, he shoves wax into your ears before he too falls victim to the song. Topaz, with her ears safely covered, takes the initiative and with your help, manages to subdue him enough for you to plug his ears. Not an easy task for a man of his size and build actively struggling against your hold.

You’re practically deaf now. All you can hear is the loudest of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull and the thunder booming directly overhead. Topaz roughly shakes you and you manage to make out what she’s saying even with the heavy rain obscuring your vision.

“What about our captain?!”

Ice courses through your veins. She’s right. You were so caught up in saving yourselves that you’ve left your captain completely defenseless. Oh no.

But when you look around, you see your captain still at the helm, seemingly immune to the siren’s song drifting through the air. He fights the ocean at every turn and spins the wheel to and fro as heavy waves tip her from side to side. He eventually manages to stabilize the ship for long enough to where you can get back up on your feet after being thrown around like a rag doll. Long enough for you to lock the rest of the ship up.

You cling to anything you can get your hands on as you slowly make your back to the deck, but it’s surprisingly difficult. Your whole body hurts from being thrown around, your arms are sore from holding onto anything for dear life, and your balance is off. Your feet keep slipping and sliding and when you make your way to the deck, you see why: the Lady Luck’s prow is pointed directly up and you already know what’s going to happen next.

“Hold fast!” shouts Aventurine. In the instant before the ice-cold waters sweep over you, Ratio grabs you and Topaz around the waist and hunkers down in the corner of the deck, gripping the railing with all his strength while you latch your arms around his waist. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and inhale before the force of the rushing waters hits you. Even with your iron-clad grip around him, the bone-chilling cold temperature of the ocean plunges you head-first into shock and your grip loosens up ever so slightly- just enough for you to be swept away. Your limp body is harshly thrown against a corner- something cracks upon impact and needle-sharp pain shoots up your spine- before another wave lifts you up and over the railing, plunging you into the endless, swirling depths.

“Cap’n! (Name)’s gone overboard!”

The water sloshing around on the deck comes up to his knees now. Aventurine looks down at his legs, then toward the churning seas, then back at his legs. Without any hesitation, he tosses his coat aside and jumps overboard to the astonishment of Topaz and Ratio.

“Captain!”

“You damned gambler! Have you gone insane?!”

Everything sounds muffled and distant as you sink further down and down. Your lungs are burning and your vision is beginning to darken as you gaze up at the hull of the Lady Luck that’s growing smaller.

Is this… it? And just when I think I’ve finally found the life I’ve been searching for…

You think you see something dart by- a fish? No, it’s too big for one. The tail is a shiny lilac but the top half is that of a woman. Silvery hair flows out behind her as she stares at you curiously and you realize it’s a mermaid as she swims away. You gasp out of shock, only to regret it instantly when you begin gasping frantically for air after you accidentally inhale some water. You desperately claw and fight your way to the surface but it’s no use; your legs feel like lead and soon your arms follow.

Right as your consciousness fades and the world goes black, you see a familiar face swimming toward you. Blond hair, multicolored eyes…

Captain? What’re you doing here?

There’s an uncharacteristic regretful look on his face as he gets closer. He says something- you can’t hear it- before he pulls you in gently and kisses you so softly you barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.

A shimmering teal tail, the same kind as the mermaid you saw earlier, is the last thing you see.

You feel something warm and heavy nestled against your side. Two of them, actually.

It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time. It’s a struggle to open your eyes as if they’ve been sealed shut and your body feels stiff. It’s all too easy to fall back asleep, but…

Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Numby and Doubloon curled up against you. The former squeals and the latter meows anxiously now that you’re awake. You gently pet their heads.

“... Good morning to you two as well.”

Your voice comes out so hoarse and scratchy you almost get secondhand embarrassment from hearing it. Upon closer examination, you realize you’re in Aventurine’s quarters but there’s no sight of him. You do, however, see Topaz passing by in the door left ajar. She gasps loudly at seeing you moving around and almost drops whatever she’s holding to rush inside.

“You’re awake! Good, we were all so worried, especially Aventurine.”

“Ugh… quiet down a bit please. How long was I out for?”

“Almost a day and a half.”

You slowly shift into an upright sitting position, wincing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. Topaz is immediately at your side, helping you up and covering you with furs and blankets when your teeth start chattering uncontrollably. Looks like the chill of the waters penetrated deep into your bones.

“Easy now. You got some nasty injuries when you went overboard, such as a few fractured ribs. Ratio had to be the one to patch you up after Cap’n brought you aboard and-” her words are punctuated with a light-hearted chuckle “-I’ve never seen him so anxious for a person to wake up. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

She leaves and you lift up the handheld mirror on the nightstand, getting the first good look of yourself since almost drowning. You look relatively the same, save for the bruises all over your exposed skin and the sling your left arm is in.

“You’re very lucky that you only got off with some fractured ribs, a broken arm, and a bunch of bruises. You very well could’ve died out there,” says Topaz as she walks back into the room with a warm drink in hand. “Ratio’s words, not mine. Although, he’s right.”

You accept the drink and after realizing what it is, gulp it down eagerly. Hot rum with honey, lemon, and cinnamon. A favorite of yours and a classic remedy whenever someone on the ship falls ill. Topaz makes it the best though.

You stare down at the now-empty cup in your hands, its residual heat warming up your cold hands. It takes a while for your memory to be jogged, but you suddenly remember Aventurine going overboard too.

“Wait, Aventurine, where is-”

“In the bathroom waiting for you. He’s been quite moody ever since returning.”

You think back to when he saved you at death’s doorstep and you loudly gasp when you recall the last thing you saw. Your thoughts must’ve been written all over your face because Topaz merely sighs and takes the empty cup from your hands.

“... I’ll let him explain everything.”

She helps you to your feet and leaves you be. You hesitantly knock on the door and are instantaneously greeted with a “come in” from the other side.

You see why Aventurine has been confined to the bathroom. The first thing you see is a long teal-colored tail shimmering and swaying lazily side to side in the dim candlelight; far too big for the tiny confines of the bathtub your captain is currently soaking in. The fins are long and slightly translucent at the ends as they smack against the floor upon seeing you enter. You stay frozen in place, eyes trailing up from his fins toward his face. The scales that you swear you’d see peeking out underneath his collar sometimes are on full display now. Patches of them are littered across his chest, arms and face. His hands are webbed now and so are his ears tinged green at the tips and peeking out beneath the mess of blond hair. The sharp fins along his forearms slice cleanly through the water as he shifts around and the gills on his neck flare upon seeing you.

He stays frozen in place, watching. And waiting for your reaction. For what feels like eternity, none of you speak or even dare to breathe until you finally make the first move. You shakily laugh and exhale- he jolts at the sound- and you sink to your knees besides him, albeit with some difficulty. When you finally do speak, it’s with a gentle voice as you’re eyeing his tail resting in your lap.

“So that explains it all. And here I was wondering if I was hallucinating seeing you with scales.”

Aventurine lets out a laugh of sheer relief. His shoulders droop and he slouches against the edge of the bathtub, all tension seemingly dissipating from his body. He seems to take notice of your injuries after he’s relaxed. A webbed finger reaches out to lightly trace your arm in a sling and he frowns at the sight.

“... I’m sorry.”

You blink, astonished.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and that’s all he has to say.

“It’s just some broken bones,” you lightly respond. “Inconvenient, sure, but nothing I can’t recover from. Besides, you saved me from certain death.”

“It’s not just about that. I narrowly avoided the nightmare I saw in my dreams, but at what cost?”

He goes quiet and refuses to elaborate. You decide it’s for the better to change the topic.

“So… care to tell me about your tail?”

Aventurine sighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from you forever, but he’s still a bit hesitant to tell you.

“Exposure to waist-deep water gives me legs and vice versa thanks to a deal I made with Jade a long time ago. In exchange for getting to experience life as a human, I would have to bring promising people to her door and continuously supply her with valuables.”

“Jade is a… sea witch?”

Aventurine snorts and scoffs.

“What, did she not seem enough of a conniving witch the first time you met her?”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “But what made you want to experience life on land?”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes land on the tattoo on the side of his neck that’s on full display now. You dare not say what it spells out loud. He scratches at the spot, conveniently covering it with his hand, and silence fills the space for a bit.

“What happened after the storm passed?”

You break the silence first. He seems relieved at the distraction and begins playing with the pearl bracelet fastened around your wrist.

“The storm passed almost as soon as I rescued you. I brought you back to the surface, where-”

“Wait, does that mean Veritas and Topaz know you’re-”

He sighs and nods. You falter a bit.

“... How did they react?”

Aventurine thinks back for a bit.

“I think they were just surprised. I don’t think they’ve fully processed it either.”

He laughs and shrugs.

“I can’t blame them. Their captain and a feared creature among sailors are one and the same.”

He sighs and looks at the closed bathroom door.

“They’ve been giving me a wide berth since then…”

“I’m sure they’ll come around. They just need some more time,” you reassure. “But what happened after that?” you ask, pressing for more information. His tail curls around your waist and swiftly pulls you closer to the bathtub- he’s surprisingly strong in this form, you quickly realize as you squirm around only for him to not budge one bit. You rest your tired head against your arms and gaze at him with half-lidded eyes that he meets unflinchingly with a gaze of his own and a lazy smile.

“Once you’re feeling better, go thank Ratio for his prompt medical care. As soon as I resurfaced, he practically yanked you out of my arms and started treating you. You inhaled quite a bit of water and Ratio had to get you to cough it all out. A bit gross, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes.”

“... You saw it all?” you ask, horrified and disgusted.

His lazy smile turns impish and he flicks some water toward you.

“Ah, you should’ve seen yourself,” he muses out loud. “Flopping around on the deck like a fish out of water and soaked to the point where you looked like Doubloon during bath time. It made for quite the sight- wait, don’t leave!”

He reaches out to you desperately and his tail tightens even more around your waist. You shoot him a withering glare before settling back down again.

“The storm calmed down soon after I saved you,” he continues. “The Lady Luck sustained some damage to the sails and she sprung a few leaks in the hull, but nothing that Ratio and Topaz weren’t able to repair. Later, you woke up and here we are.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Really, that’s it,” he repeats.

“What a coincidence it stops after narrowly escaping death,” you grumble. He rolls his eyes.

“No kidding,” he scoffs.

Aventurine plucks a glimmering scale off and holds it out like a peace offering to you. It shifts between colors in the candlelight, going from pink to green to gold with a holographic sheen covering it. He notices the confused expression you wear and lightly laughs.

“What? Didn’t you know, mermaid scales are exceedingly valuable?”

You hold it closer, entranced by its dancing colors.

“I thought most of the ones on the market are frauds though?”

“That they are. But a real, genuine scale… those are only offered to the richest of the rich at a closed auction.”

“Yet here I am with one in my hand, free of charge.”

Aventurine laughs and plucks off another one for you. A look of hesitation crosses your face.

“... Doesn’t that hurt?”

“A little,” he admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, they grow back.”

His words do nothing to budge the frown on your face and Aventurine makes a mental note to claim a scale fell off from natural causes the next time he gifts you one.

“How long do they take to grow back then?”

“... A long time,” he confesses after a beat of silence.

“... I see why they’re so expensive now.”

You glance down at the two shining scales in your palm. Perhaps you’ll make jewelry out of them- an earring to match with your captain doesn’t sound half-bad…

But your curiosity is piqued now. Mermaids are the stuff of legends and you have one sitting in front of you. A few questions couldn’t hurt, right?

“What else can you do?”

His tail flicks back and forth excitedly. Anything to impress you!

“We can cry pearls and other valuable jewels. Want to see?”

“Wait, don’t make yourself cry-”

Too late. Fat tears slide down his cheeks, condensing into something round and shiny before landing with a soft clink in his hands. Perfect pearls and tumbled sea glass pile up in his palms and you spot some shiny green stones- aventurine stones. He holds them out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. Your captain looks less of a fearsome mythical creature and more like an… eager puppy. You can’t possibly say no to such a face so with a resigned sigh, you accept his offering.

“... Thank you, but please don’t make this a common occurrence in the future. I don’t want to see you cry.”

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window.

Like a puppy, you think as you watch him sulk in the bathtub. You poke at one of Ratio’s rubber ducks Aventurine had stolen from him bobbing along the water’s surface.

“You aren’t horrified?” he asks once he grows bored of staring at the duck.

“Why would I be?”

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I mean.”

His tail swishes side to side agitatedly and his ears simultaneously flatten against his head and fold downwards.

“Do you realize what I could do to you right now?” he asks in a low tone. “I could pull you under my song, strip you of your defenses, outwit you at every turn despite how clever you are…”

You’re leaning in unknowingly. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and he leans in closer, twirling a strand of your hair around a clawed finger.

“I’ll infiltrate your mind and charm you into doing things you’d never think of doing,” he continues, voice even lower and softer now. “I could tell you to walk the plank and you would do it, no questions asked. I could drag you beneath the depths with me and no one would even notice you’re gone. Ah, but you’re already under my spell, aren’t you?”

“... What?”

“Exactly. I could even do… this!”

With a sudden yank, he pulls you into the tub with him. Water splashes over the edge onto the floor and you scream. Even so, he holds tight and winds his tail tightly around you, nuzzling his cheek against yours and nipping your cheeks. They’re love bites more than anything else, but you shudder at the thought of how different the situation could be had he not been so head over heels for you.

You also shudder as the cold water soaks through your clothes and sends a chill up your spine.

“Let me go. The water’s cold.”

Aventurine merely holds onto you even tighter. Tucked into the crook of his neck like this, you can see his gills rapidly opening and closing out of contentment and the self-satisfied smile stretching wide across his face. He seems content to stay in this position for ages, leaning in to bury his nose into your hair and press kisses to your cheek repeatedly, but it’s only until you start shivering that he reluctantly lets go.

Before you step out the tub, he holds his left hand out. You hesitantly extend your right hand out until he gently bats it away and gestures for your left hand instead. It’s bundled in a sling but you manage to make it work somehow.

“There we go,” he says once your palm is pressed against his. “Now, close your eyes.”

You do as he says and thick, syrupy words flow like honey from his mouth. The words practically stick together as his voice rises and falls melodically in some unknown language. It sounds soothing, in the way a mother’s voice would lull a child to sleep.

“There,” he whispers after a peck to your forehead. “All done. You can open your eyes now.”

“What was that?”

“... A prayer,” he admits. “A prayer for your continued health and safety.”

There’s a funny feeling in your stomach and you fight back the stupid smile creeping onto your face.

“You shouldn’t have. But thank you.”

You curl your good arm around him and with a sharp heave, lift him up. His long tail snakes around your waist and you almost fall over from the weight.

“Stop that! You’re heavy!”

“How heartless of you.”

You dunk him back into the bathtub unceremoniously. His tail splits down the middle and scales begin falling off rapidly in patches. The fins shrivel and dissolve and pearly-smooth legs soon emerge. With a start, you try to look away but he merely scoffs and languidly stretches out in your arms.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

Now fully dressed, Aventurine emerges onto the deck with you in hand. Topaz is playing fetch with Numby and Doubloon while Ratio is at the helm. The two pets, upon seeing you, dash over to you and run in circles around you with Numby oinking and Doubloon meowing excitedly. Topaz all but topples you over in an excited hug while your navigator scolds her, reminding the woman of your frail condition.

“How are you feeling?” asks Veritas as he comes to a stop before you. You hum and beam at him.

“Never felt better thanks to your immediate care.”

He brushes your compliments off with a scoff and a wave of his hand, all accompanied by his usual eye roll.

“Think nothing of it. It was merely my duty.”

Topaz leans against you from behind while Ratio coughs and steps back from you a bit. They eye your captain with the respect and admiration they always have, but now there’s a hint of skepticism underlying it all.

“Gambler, we deserve an explanation for what happened back there,” demands Veritas. Aventurine sighs and shakes his head.

“I know, but that’ll happen in due time. For now, let’s just… keep moving forward.”

He takes the helm. Ratio hoists the sails and Topaz climbs up to the crow’s nest to keep lookout. Things are never going to be quite the same as before now, but that’s alright in your eyes. Everyone boarded the Lady Luck for their own reasons and their captain secretly being a mermaid in disguise doesn’t change any of that. You boarded the ship to carve out a life for yourself you would’ve never had back on land. Ratio boarded to spread knowledge. Topaz boarded to bring change into the world. Your captain has already helped those dreams come true. Nothing the legends say will do anything to sway your opinion on him.

The seas are calm. It’s clear out with a strong breeze that cools you off amidst the sun’s sweltering rays. Ratio is repairing a tear in one of the sails that escaped his earlier attention while Topaz hums a tune she picked up from you atop the crow’s nest, scouting the surrounding waters. You meet Aventurine’s gaze out the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his side with one arm as you look out upon the ocean.

“Have you accomplished your goal of conquering the seven seas?” you tease. He scoffs and smirks.

“Oh, I did that a long time ago already. But there’s one last desire I have yet to fulfill.”

“And what might that be?”

He gazes down at you silently, yet the silence between you speaks volumes. A raised eyebrow and a head tilt. A cheeky wink and a kiss to your forehead. An exasperated sigh from your two crewmates as you pull away from returning the kiss.

There’s always one question you ask when heading to a new destination, and this time is no different. Gazing into his multicolored eye, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere else other than here, now and forever.

“So where to next, Captain?”

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

#🔖 bookmark #🦌 𝓚OUE FAVES !#ALSO HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!! im sorry for the late greetings 😞💔#it was soo laggy writing this sjsn but I really wanted to add every thought that i have cuz you genuinely deserve it #I’ll reiterate but if you have time to read this PLEASE PLEASE DO from the bottom of my heart this is the best aventurine pirate au fic #i also genuinely feel like i’m missing some thoughts / missing smth from what u want to say but i hope this makes sense? i’m rambling haha

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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

Note

Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

#gilverrwrites #anon #dc #reader insert #jason todd #jason todd/reader #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood/reader #x reader #f reader #/reader #imagine #divider by @anitalenia #1k

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notedchampagne · 7 months ago

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What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

#im very great at answering questions concisely!#the locked tomb #griddlehark #fic rec #talking back

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midnight-bay-if · 1 month ago

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OMG i just have to say the way you write your characters is amazing! Often times when I read books with a large cast of characters a lot of the characters feel like the same and their characters aren't the most distinct but each and every one of the RO's feels like their own individual, with their own voice. If someone threw a random quote from one of your characters in my direction i feel like i could easily distinguish which characters said it because they are each so unique, which is amazing writing on your behalf! 👏 I'm currently working on my own IF and I was wondering if you had any tips on making unique characters or just writting in general? And I hope that your feeling better after your illness and that your writting is going smoothly <3

This is such a nice compliment! 🥺 I'm a little speechless, haha. But this is precisely why I like answering asks from each character's POV. It's great practice, and I've learned a lot about my own characters doing it that way.

Firstly, do not be afraid to start with a trope. They can be great stepping stones to get you started. For me, the beginning stepping stone for the wider story was Umbra. I was going through a really personally tough time when I created them. I needed a way to voice my desperation. Then came N, and with them came the devil on my shoulder. I played around with the character tropes I've loved for so long while figuring out the greater story after. So much of The Midnight Bay was designed alongside the characters.

Empathising with your characters will help you find their struggle and voice. It can be uncomfortable for me to write Umbra at times because so much of my own anxiety has been put into that character, but some people will connect with it, and that's important.

When it comes to finding a character's voice, it's best to start with their background. Consider how the character got to their position and how it has affected them. Their psychology will determine a lot about what they say and how they say it. But equally as important is what they choose not to say, and why.

Their personalities are going to play a large role in their speech. For example, S is a tactician, smart, to the point, but can turn on the charm when desired. All good things, right? Well, yes and no. They have a bit of a hero complex and will always put their teammates in the most advantageous position, even to their own detriment. A fatal flaw of character will always make your characters more interesting. Their best traits can also be their greatest weakness.

Sometimes, it can be fun to switch up which aspect of a character you choose to keep secret. Taj wears all their flaws out in the open, unlike the others. They stand out against the others because their softer side is what is secret.

Also, this is an old tip that gets passed around quite a bit, but it's one I think about a lot; could each of your main characters work as the story's protagonist? Are they fleshed out enough to work as a main character? Can you imagine following them through the main story and still have a compelling story to tell? If the answer is no, consider why not - what's missing?

I'm fighting my imposter syndrome right now in order to deliver these tips, but hopefully, they are helpful and don't come across as pretentious, haha.

This is going to be an anticlimactic final point, but it deserves saying. Writing often is going to be the biggest help. Even if you can only manage a couple of lines a day, it'll help. Some days I really struggle; my imposter syndrome takes over and I feel utterly hopeless. On days like that, I'll search my inbox for a new ask to inspire me, reread my favourite novels or move onto another scene entirely to unstick my brain from its patterns. The most important thing is to have fun with it.

Anyway, hopefully, this was at least slightly helpful. I fear I have just rambled nonsensically, but it's pretty accurate to what my process is like, haha.

Thank you again for such a kind message. It really helped brighten up my day since this illness has been lingering much longer than I would like. I'm getting better as the days go by now, and I'm hoping to get back to work on chapters 3 and 4 starting tomorrow :)

#ask answer #this made me a little teary eyed #especially since my imposter syndrome has been especially bad recently

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tshortik · 11 months ago

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My random comic Recs #1

I've been reading more comics lately, so I wanted to share my love for them in the hopes that someone might give this medium a chance!

Note: I am not a fan of superhero comics, because I simply don't like that genre, so don't expect superheroes below. Gonna make these posts every now and then and they will always include 4 recs. 1.) The Many Deaths of Laila Starr

Death got demoted and sent to earth as a mortal! Some boy is going to figure out how to cheat death in the future, and our girl Death really doesn't appreciate that. The entire graphic novel is only 5 issues long, so it's VERY digestible and easy to get through.There is something so light and playful about the art style, and the vibrant colors really sell it.

For people that are completely new to comics as a medium, I imagine that this is actually an A+ book to start with for the reasons I just mentioned. The way paneling and the flow of time is done in here, is a great example as to why comics are so unique as a medium and why they should be looked at as its own art from, separate from movies or books.

2) Mécanique Céleste (Or "Mechanica Calaestium" in the German translation, or "Aster Of Pan" in the English translation)

An absolutely breathtaking French comic. Aster lives in Pan, a post-apocalyptic France where she scavenges for wreckage with her friend Wallis. After their people come under a threat by the Federation of Fortuna, they are given a choice —submit to Fortuna’s rule or beat them in a weird Hunger Games-esque version of Dodge, called “Celestial Mechanics”.

The detailed art pieces in each panel, the careful line work, the lively way the characters move and the stunning watercolors captivated me from the first page. This graphic novel (now 2 volumes) is one of a kind and truly unique!

3) Something Is Killing the Children

Note: Comic contains a lot of gore and violence!

Children are starting to disappear in Archer's Peak. The ones that come back tell impossible stories that no one seems to believe. Only one stranger trusts these tales - a mysterious girl named Erica Slaughter who seems to be able to see these creatures too. And she's here for business.

I loooove Something is Killing the Children. I haven't finished reading the ongoing volumes yet, but I am super fascinated at how well the pacing goes in this story. The rough art style with Erica's freaky large eyes is SO fun, and you start appreciating it even more the longer you read.

4) Mon Ami Pierrot ("Mein Freund Pierrot" in German, "My friend Pierrot" in English)

Another fabulous French comic! Cléa is to marry soon - a young man name of Berthier. Right before the wedding she meets the fascinating magician Pierrot though, who completely changes the course of her life. Entranced by his whimsical nature that makes her feel "free" for the first time in her life, she follows him and leaves her previous life behind. During her stay with Pierrot, questions arise, though. Who is he really? All the while her betrothed sets out to find her again.

The Ghibli influence both art- and storywise is easy to make out, and I personally really enjoyed that. I particularly love the colors and the facial expressions the characters are drawn with. Everything feels very whimsical and playful and I had a good time going through this chonker of a graphic novel!

No spoilers, but I expected toothrottingly-sweet wholesome stuff, and ended up surprised on several occasions. I think the colours and art style really help give those moments wham, because you don't expect it.

#i talk sometimes #comics #graphic novels #comic recommendations #long post #comics are super duper cool and you should try them!!

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inquisitionthoughts · 6 days ago

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Dragon Age the Veilguard: My Thoughts

I have played through all of the latest Dragon Age installation (except for two side quests in Rivain, and one blighted dragon that I was locked out of for the entire game due to what I believe was a bug) and I have things to say.

After finishing it I had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings, and those internal conflicts have only grown after letting the experience marinate.

I want to start with saying that I am writing what I'm going to say as a nonbinary, queer, bi, pan, poly, “leftist” progressive feminist vegetarian working at an NGO LGBTQI-organization, so you can safely assume that I am not coming from a grifter or alt-right point of view.

To give you an idea of where I am coming from:

I grew up reading folktales, mythologies and fantasy literature by Pratchett, Tolkien and Eddings; playing the Swedish version of Dungeons & Dragons, making role-playing games, and programming text based fantasy adventures in DOS as a kid. That's how I ended up in this whole fandom in the first place.

I am an original Dragon Age fan. I've followed and absolutely loved the series since before the release of Origins. As I watched my friends play Baldur's Gate 1 and 2, but never had a good enough computer at home to play those games myself at that time, I was elated when I got to hear talk of a game universe that was the “spiritual successor to Baldur's Gate”, and I followed all info on the development and marketing, until the game was released. And boy did they deliver, Dragon Age: Origins converted me into a gamer and cemented my love for cRPGs as well as my love for BioWare.

I did many playthroughs of Origins; every origin, good runs, evil runs, canon runs. All the DLC. Several runs of Awakening. When the demo for DAII was released I was apprehensive due to the really weird look so it took me a while to play it, but when I eventually did it was amazing. The companions and the story were stellar, and it didn't really matter that they reused the dungeons, I just wish they had updated the maps so it wasn't as obvious. Several playthroughs later with both siblings, all romances and different allied endings I was ready for the next installation.

I pre-ordered Dragon Age Inquisition as soon as it was possible, the collector's edition, so I ended up learning tarot to use the deck that came with it. I bought all the art books for all the games. I kind of wanted to stop playing Inquisition at the 1337 hour mark but now I have over 2000 hours in the game, with all the DLC completed, and I've played every race and class, explored all the different ways the character can be portrayed as devout Andrastian, carefree selfish asshole, elven supremacist or goodie-two shoes hero, and I’ve even written a guide to how to get the best DAI experience here on tumblr (tldr; get out of the Hinterlands, talk to companions, skip the shards 😅).

And then I waited for ten years. Played Mass Effect 1-4, Fallout 3-4, Skyrim, Witcher 3, Baldur's Gate 1-3, Horizon Zero Dawn and Forbidden West, Elder Scrolls Online, Star Wars: The Old Republic, Divinity: Original Sin 2, The Outer Worlds, Cyberpunk 2077 and Starfield to bide my time. Followed Ghil Dirthalen's YouTube channel religiously. Read most of the Dragon Age Wiki, even contributed to it. Made my own mad person mind maps over the lore and timeline of the universe; the Maker, the titans, the spirits, the elves, the veil, humans, Tevinter, qunari, the blight, Andraste and the Chantry.

I love the darkness and depth of the Dragon Age universe. How it consciously turns fantasy tropes on their head in its own way. I have memories of the writers of Origins explaining that when they created the setting they wanted to contemplate how the existence of magic, elves and dwarves actually would play out in a gritty realistic world filled with bigoted and narrow minded people, and then followed through with those conclusions. How the plight of the elves had clear connotations to the holocaust and the Jewish gettos of Europe. It was a curious series not afraid to follow their own trains of thought, making you nauseated, flabbergasted and upset on the way.

I followed the twists and turns of the development at BioWare. Through development being halted due to teams being moved to Andromeda and Anthem, the pivot to and from multi-player live service, mass leavings and layoffs, teaser trailers, Kotaku articles and whatnot. It was a roller-coaster pendulum swing between being afraid and hopeful, oftentimes at the same time. I refused to completely give up hope, I never did, and I was immensely excited for the release of Dragon Age Dreadwolf.

Eventually it came! Name changed to Veilguard. A quite weird League of Legends-esque companions trailer. A spoiler filled gameplay video. Marketing team spoiling endgame scenes with official trailers. Rumors of amazing character creation and a shocking reveal that only three choices would carry over from the past three games. We already knew the Keep wouldn't be used, but only three? Nevertheless I pre-ordered and then it came.

And I played it.

I loved it so much, but at the same time I had so many deep grievances that threatened to take over the whole playthrough unless I somehow managed them. I had to create a document that stayed open at all times on my second screen just so I could write down things that I just could not let go otherwise, that made me able to keep focusing on the game and not the hard to swallow moments I was getting stuck on. I have never experienced anything like this before, but on the other hand I have never loved and been invested in any game fantasy universe like this.

This was the result of all my reactions to Dragon Age the Veilguard:

THE LOVE

Things I really loved

the lighthouse <3

the look and graphics of every place, the game is absolutely stunning, and the visual people have outdone themselves, the level designs, the environmental storytelling is amazing and beyond

the cities, the markets, I LOVE LOVE LOVE them, and they give so much cyberpunk 2077 vibes in a good way

dock town gives awesome low town vibes from da2 ❤️

the main story

the new lore drops, omg the lore, yum yum

buskers playing the old tavern songs, just love it

the blight, visually, oh god I loved it, it was really a throwback to the fleshyness of the Deep Roads in Origins

the new look of the demons, I actually loved it eventually as I was first sceptical, even though the pride demons were abit too much floaty neon

so many new iterations of enemies, in such fun ways

the faction systems and factions stores

the companion gear systems

the gear system, upgrade systems

the short letters ❤️

the leveling up systems, really funny, great to be able to refund at any time

the world maps and fast travel systems

the cards where you chose your companions, stunning

the scene in front of the lighthouse eluvian, awestriking

the companion conversation system where you could see on the map of the lighthouse if they had anything new, or a quest or where they were if you wanted to eavesdrop - it was very refreshing after talking to everyone in camp in bg3 every night to see if there is any new reaction to something you did, now I could just talk to them if they had something and not compulsively all the time

the quest formats of walking along with your companions in areas you otherwise can end up in battle in, loved that so much, a calm way to experience these absolutely stunning environments

the combat system on explorer mode, when at highest level the animations that played out were mad cool XD that was fun!

that you can walk into and climb ladders at the same time as companions and that they teleport to you or enemies in battle, lovely

squeezing through narrow passages, sliding down, walking on thin planks

the no fall damage jumping

opening doors like in dark souls games

that lucanis had a contract on a bronto once XD

elgar’nan has an amaaazing voice actor giving weight to his menace

loved the format of the ending in the style of mass effect 2, so well executed! one of the best endings of all times

the varric twist OMG!! I cried ❤️

I have cried and have had goosebumps so many time during this game ❤️ I love so much of it so much ❤️

the hype for what the "devouring storm", "the adversary" and "it's eye" is, and a potential next game

the joining chalice T_T

THE MEH

Things that were meh

that the romance was super PG13 T_T I guess I am spoiled after bg3 but to get a peck and then a lying hug on a couch and an "I love you" was of course wonderful, but NOT ENOUGH XD I absolutely loved the Lucanis romance otherwise, very spicy in it's way, but I really wanted the scenes of origins, da2 or dai - we honestly didn't get that here

wasn't a fan of the cartoony vibes for the characters but I still grew into almost immediately, I really wish that they had done something to not make all important characters look so extremely young, some people who should be in at least their 30s look like teenagers.. they should have used more rugged face textures

that there was no real way to make your inquisitor look like your original inquisitor like in they did with hawke in Inquisition, kinda broke immersion and emotional connection

the controls (ok remappable so it was fine in the end)

the lol dota fortnite overwatch type of ui vibe

whats up with all this drowning all the time XD

that you have to destroy stuff to loot it - very dark souls (they have clearly been elden ring inspired in this game) - very unimmersive as you trash the markets in all major cities…😅 but in the end it was fun, but still insane XD

repetetive puzzles in especially arlathan forest, wish they made more meaningful quests there instead to slow the pace

wish I never watched the game trailers they released, they spoiled too much of the

would have loved to be able to zoom in a bit more

too many cats XD 😉

the music was more like starfield or a scifi game than dragon age - there was a lot of modern music instead of the classical brass orchestra or choirs, I missed that

I missed the chantry, and the chant of light

personal quests starts like in the shadow of mordor games, interesting, a bit weird 😛

THE 😬

Things that I did not like

that I could not recreate a body that is similar to mine (and I have a completely normal female body that is just kinda curvaceous) because they put an unrealistic cap on boob and butt size, it makes me really sad because it feels like there is something wrong with existing like me, especially since women like me are the only ones not allowed to be included and represented in a game that otherwise prides itself at inclusion and representation

the stressed opening throwing us into the main action of the game far too quickly with far too little buildup as to who your character is, how they were drafted by Varric, what they have been doing, why they have been split up, what their relationships are like and why you should care about your own character

the gold exploding everywhere when looting or opening chests, it is really immersion breaking and unnecessary, I really hope someone can mod that out

the new look of the darkspawn: I like that there are so many different types and the amazing idea that the blight has changed, but they obviously went for comedic effect instead of horror here which makes me so sad, it feels like it ties in with other choices that make the game more juvenile that are hard to reckon with, especially since the game is marketed as “mature”

the new combat system on anything other than explorer, a huge nope for me, unfortunately, but I can only congratulate all those that seem to love it

that we, true to american culture and despite healing magic existing in this world, get death scenes of people just sitting and watching someone die crying for dramatic effect instead of trying to help them… it irks me every time it happens in any media

that you cannot sort your inventory by any values or show only light or medium armor or anything, a missed opportunity

THE 😭

These last grievances are the hardest ones to put into words and the things that have stayed with me since I played the game. They have given rise to so many questions as to why these choices were made, because these things are so obviously choices that it becomes really hard to understand why they would chose to go this route.

But here they are, the three major grievances I have with this game:

1) the lore breaking or retconning

2) the writing regarding companions, NPCs and its ideas of "teambuilding" and preaching

3) that there is so little real choice

The lore breaking or retconning

That there is much lore that is missing, and many choices or things from the previous games that are not referenced, felt a lot more okay than the instances where actual lore and world building was retconned in a way that was not explained in any capacity, but where you were just supposed to live with the fact that this is the new reality of the world.

I am not fully sure why this happened, and it felt really disrespectful to the game itself, its previous creators and all those who love this universe. It feels like they did it for two main reasons: one was that they wanted to remove things that could be somehow perceived as “uncomfortable” or “problematic” to the player, and the other was in instances where I think that the writers did not have enough knowledge or interest in the world lore, or experience with playing the previous games, and thus missed important pieces of lore where they had taken part of just some of previous codex entries and just kind of gotten it wrong. I really don’t know.

They seem to have retconned and thrown out the window all previous elf lore regarding dalish and city elves, that dalish elves are very hateful towards shemlen, and that humans are generally racist against elves, and that city elves are oppressed, and that they are often andrastian, and that not all elves even speak elvish…

Playing an elf mage warden was a rollercoaster of people talking about "my people" when I most likely grew up in a mage circle and was drafted to the wardens and should most likely not speak old elven? All elves just talked about "our people" and "our culture" like if that was a thing constantly, but it is so much more complex in this universe. And it seemed all elves just suddenly knew elvish, which was not a thing in the older games, that was like a cryptic language people didn't know much about.

The weirdest scene in the whole game that had me rubbing my eyes to make sure I was seeing and hearing correctly was the one where you meet the Veil Jumpers for the first time and the two leaders of the faction for some unknown reasons had knowledge of Solas being Fen'harel and most importantly that the old elven gods were power hungry evil mages. Like, that should not at all be any kind of common knowledge, that just felt absolutely insane. No explanation given as to how they could have pertained that bit of info.

And there was something really off with Arlathan, where the whereabouts of the ancient elven capital was like the biggest mystery of the previous games; no one knew where it had vanished, it had just been buried according to legend, and suddenly there is just a large crater in the middle of Arlathan forest and loads of city parts kind of left? Just, really strange.

And all this talk about the Tevinter blood magic destroying the elves while walking in that forest - where we literally just learned in the last game that it was not Tevinter that destroyed the elves, but the elves themselves and that when Tevinter came they were long gone, which makes those throwaway conversations just like this huge retcon of the last games. Kind of like someone reading the early lore and being like, aha, this is what happened, without also taking part of the events that showed that as being a false belief…

And it feels like this was done because it fits in with this whole new idea of “elves good” and “man bad” vibe of the story, where elves had been turned into some kind of indigenous population that were fighting the evil colonialist Tevinter? Which is not at all the original lore; in the original lore pretty much everyone’s an asshole in different ways (even if Tevinter are more assholes than most).

They have also removed a lot of the difference between surface dwarves and thaigh dwarves with their quite oppressive cast systems and racism towards the surface dwarves and peoples.

And they made the chantry into the catholic church in Antiva, is that really lore friendly? The chantry run or other mage circles aren’t really referenced anymore, even with several new organisations around that forming after Inquisition no matter what choices you made, and mages aren’t really treated any special, and people don’t seem to be afraid of them or revere them as they would in the rest of the world or Tevinter, and magic has been turned into some kind of scifi magical tech instead of what it used to be.

And apparently dragons have treasures now, but they never used to have that, so that's another thing where it feels like the writers did not write for the Thedas but for like generic fantasy.

And the Crows of Antiva are only a friendly family instead of an unscrupulous child buying assassin’s league (I hear that has kind of been explained in some written media by a war between the different crow factions, but they could have somehow then explained that...), and the pirates lead by Isabela - one of the worst perpetrator of cultural theft known from Dragon Age 2 where she stole the Tome of Koslun, with so little care as to return it to the point that a war with the Qunari broke out in Kirkwall - are not pirates but culturally sensitive treasure hunters, but of course without explanation as to how this could come to pass.

I have seen many people complain about things and references that are missing but that actually ARE in the game, and that is why I am not as upset about the missing lore because I know that there are probably a lot of that lying around in codexes and scenes and little NPC conversations and such that I have missed, just as many others have missed a lot of things. But those things that ARE there, that break the earlier lore without any given plausible explanation, that is what hurts.

The writing regarding companions, NPCs, "teambuilding" and preaching tone

Generally people are just too happy and cheery almost all the time.

I've heard "you've got this" WAY too many times - the disconnect between the dark lore and world and the NPCs who are so unphased almost all of the time, except for when emotion is needed for a scene, is too large. There is way much more cynicism needed here to reflect the evil in the world and the actual goings on around. This constant cheeriness was present in both companion dialogue and NPC interaction.

This game is obviously themed around building "a team" - that's the main premise, but the idea the writers have about how you do that doesn't feel based in reality. It feels like the power fantasy of nerdy queer computer developers on how they want people to feel or operate. Rook is made out to be a good leader because the question "are you ok" is used in any and all (not always reasonable) situations. Romantic questions are blunt in a way that not everyone would be comfortable with, but all companions are still happy with that in-the-real-world not very successful flirting style, and it feels like that is a power fantasy of writers who just wish the world would function like this.

You as Rook feels like your companion's mom and therapist, and their struggles are so juvenile and safe that they are about that they cannot sleep, forget to eat, that their mom told them to do something, that grandma might not approve of them, or that they do not like vegetables… And you tell them how to live their lives; they should eat, and sleep, and lots of other cliches, but the game also tells you as the player through companion dialogue that it is also good to do breathing exercises, drink less coffee, eat more flax-seed because it's good for your stomach, and how often you should shower. I as Rook even gave the mega ancient goddess Mythal modern style RELATIONSHIP advice, I wanted to sink through the floor…

This game feels preachy in a way that I have never ever felt in a game, it is like there are some writers there who just discovered that mindfulness, flax-seed and personal hygiene are good for you and now have to tell that to the WORLD. If kind of feels like they were envisioning us players some young vulnerable gamers that they needed to save with their hard earned life wisdom. I feel like the writers behind a lot of the companion interactions were not suited to write the kind of deep meaningful content that you expect from this kind of game.

The amount of times I have heard "Thank you" and "I am sorry" in this game is insane. The characters thank each others and apologize constantly like there is no tomorrow, and they resolve their differences within two sentences like - "I hate your whole way of life" - "Oh, I'm sorry I wish you said something sooner" - "Oh, no, I am sorry, I should never have called you assbag." It's just… so much bad writing, I don't know what to call it, it's shallow and flat and I just wish it was so different.

A whole lot of the preaching style could have been remedied if there had been more “show, don’t tell” in this game. It feels like the writers have forgotten that when you want to convey a moral, cultural, artistic or political message through a piece of art, like games are, you need to do it through the power of allegory and not just by having characters outright saying what is right or wrong.

For example, if the message that you want to get across is that cultural piracy is bad, you should not have a character posture for an organisation just telling you how good they are for returning treasure to cultures they come from; you should write a quest where you dig up a piece of treasure that gives you some kind of power, but where you later find out this is an important cultural relic of some lost tribe that really wants it back, and where you as the player have to grapple with the weight of that moral choice. Even players who would then choose to keep the relic for selfish and power-grabbing reasons would still feel kind of morally bad, and they would still get the message you are trying to convey. This kind of mechanic in storytelling is something that is missing throughout the whole game when it comes to different moral, social or cultural messages.

Also, in the character Bellara the retcon or writing for a different universe and strange companion writing converges. She namely talks about herself as autodidact - that she has learnt not by studying but by poking around and figuring out what goes boom - but at the same time she has many discussions with professor Emmerich about academic stuff and she uses all the fancy words, words that are also out of lore-words, about frequencies and things that come rather from Elder Scrolls and sci-fi universes, whereas in Dragon Age magical power relates to blood (titan blood, human blood, blighted blood and so on) or the fade and spirits. A person who is self taught by only learning and doing would not at all talk like that "you need to huperflux the enchantment-condesator", they would say "you know that feeling you get when it's about to go boom, that's when you do like this show and hold your breath" or something.

That there is so little real choice, you have only one personality and morality

You get very little choice in this game, so little that it almost no longer really feels like an RPG. Especially around who your Rook is and how they act, oftentimes they will just continue talking and say things about their life and background that you had no idea about and had never chosen. You are getting to know your character at the same speed as the NPCs of the game.

For a while while playing this game I honestly thought I had lost my ability to read and understand the English language, and was making plans to try to regain my language skills, because I had never before experienced such a disconnect between what you choose as a player and what Rook actually says. I realized later that this disconnect was not only felt by me but by others as well, and that there is a large disconnect between the options and what is said.

I don’t need to be “evil” like you could be in Origins or can be in the Baldur’s Gate games, but at least I thought you could be a kind of paragon or renegade version of Rook, or at least that you could form your personality like Hawke and be kind, funny or harsh - but not even that. Rook is more pre cooked than Geralt in the Witcher games, this is more of an interactive movie in many places, so many that I wish they were more honest about that and made those conversations more into quicktime events where you would just experience the scenes like in Detroit Become Human or games like those. The illusion that there are RPG choices where you have less choice in dialogue than you had in Fallout 4 is just hurting the experience, and especially hurting any immersion and connection you can have with your player character.

You are only allowed to be heroic, and just one type of heroic; not the one that is ready to sacrifice things for the greater good or to get things done, but only the goodie two-shoes hero (that for sure oftentimes is what I play, but which feels meaningless unless there is an option to go another route).

The most glaring example of this forced morality that pretty much breaks the fourth wall was when Rook goes by a scene in a blighted city where several people have been hung and says very dramatically that “this shouldn’t happen anywhere” and then proceeds to murder 20 Venatori agents with zero thought as to who their mothers, children or pets are. That comment did not feel like a legitimate comment that would be said by a Rook as created by genuine interest in the character or their connection to the world, but much more as a clear “social posturing” or “virtue signaling” for the player behind the computer screen that this is a good person, and that they are good according to the only specific moral view the hero is allowed to have (no chaotic good allowed).

It was also very present in Rook's interactions with Solas' memories in the crossroads. When confronted with a memory of the blight being created and threatening to spread to the whole world and how Solas sacrificed ONE of his agents to guarantee that the blight would not spread to the world the only way to react to that was the Solas was a horrible callous and evil person for not saving this one person and possibly condemning the world. I think they somehow meant for Rook and Solas to be moral opposites, where Rook would always protect the little people against oppression and Solas would sacrifice the little people for his missions, but it really feels so off to not have any say in your RPG characters moral values, even within the tropes of heroes.

This kind of virtue signaling is also present in many other parts of the game, used not to deepen the characters but to position them as the "good guys", and my best example here is how they handle Emmerichs vegetarianism. It could have been a really interesting trait that could have resulted in interesting conversations about morality, mortality, spirits of animals and flesh - but instead this trait is mainly used to position the other companions as good because they have (wow, time to get impressed) remembered to cook vegetarian food for Emmerich, several times even (naaw, that is so nice and inclusive of them, uwu). This cheapens the whole thing and makes it instead feel preachy (which it is at this point) and it's such a wasted potential.

And when it comes to the choices in the main game there is only one big choice before the suicide mission ending that is major and creates some replayability, but it doesn’t have a particularly large emotional effect because you have not come to know the places enough to care about them properly. The choices you make in the companion quests are, with the exception of Emmerich’s quest, so shallow and just affect their gear instead of their stories in any meaningful way, that I just wish they didn’t have any choices at the end of the quest lines.

SUMMARY

In conclusion: a lot of people have tried to explain these choices of retconning the factions and the lore, and the strange “teambuilding” discourse, as stemming from an idea of Rook as a heroic hero and their team “The Veilguard” as some kind of Avengers. And that for this purpose everything they do has to be good, they have to have only one type of personality, with one type of morality, have only one type of interaction with the world and their companions, the companions have to lack any type of “problematic” (or god forbid interesting) or morally ambiguous character flaw, and all factions you collaborate with have to be morally unambiguously good and the bad guys have to be unequivocally evil preferably without grayscale.

This way of thinking, if this is true, makes these choices that they have made for the game kind of make sense, but it is still such a weird choice to make, to take a complex dark fantasy story that is Dragon Age - and a cRPG franchise known for morally difficult and emotional choices and complex morally grey factions and cultures - and turn it into this hero-fiction, with clear cut morals and cartoony vibe aimed at younger audiences.

This could have been such an amazing game (which is in many parts still is), but something went really wrong in the direction for the writers and I ache so bad for all those developers that I am sure really tried their best and probably suffered under insane creative direction. I don’t know how else to explain this.

It feels like, when playing through the game, like the teams that made the environments, the main story and the companions were three different teams where the first two got all the time and resources, and no micromanagement, whereas the last team didn't have any contact with the others and got the short end of the stick.

I am still waiting for the Kotaku article where they talk to 19 people who have worked on this keeping them anonymous and telling us the real story about the experience of making this game.

Thank you for reading this far, I seriously hope you loved this game no matter its strange choices at time, and I would STILL say after all of this that it is worth playing for all Dragon Age fans out there.

Dareth shiral.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #bioware #rook #solas #thedas #design #review #thoughts #veilguard #dragon age veilguard #veilguard spoilers #da veilguard

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ineffable-endearments · 10 months ago

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Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell

Wow. There is...there is so much here.

First, a caution about the book itself: there is significant sexually violent narration, and lots of torture as well. This post is going to discuss these topics only in general terms - I don't think I need to go into detail to discuss what they mean for the story - but take care of yourself when you're deciding whether to read it. If you have any questions, always feel free to send an ask or message.

I am going to need to make multiple posts about this book. For this first one, I'll focus on summarizing the book and its main themes, especially the ones that I think relate to Good Omens. As always, I can't summarize it in a way that will give you a better understanding than simply reading the book, but summarizing it will help me put my own thoughts together and hopefully help you follow along as I try to articulate them.

Because it's impossible to miss, I think it is best to confront this issue at the outset: there is a lot of especially blatant misogyny on Winston's part in Nineteen Eighty-Four. This is not meant to be a good or sympathetic thing. It is a demonstration of how messed up he is, and how messed up everyone in that society is.

The Society

The plot of Nineteen Eighty-Four is tied up very much in the story's world. The characters are at the mercy of their society in this story, much more than in most. It will make sense to describe the world first. Indeed, a massive portion of the book is just information about Oceania itself.

In the world of Nineteen Eighty-Four, the entire planet is supposedly ruled by three perpetually warring authoritarian states: Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia, conglomerations of Earth's former independent nations. Through the novel, it is revealed that all three states have governments that are structured in largely the same way with approximately the same quality of life for their people, and the perpetual war is itself a way of controlling each population.

Technically, we don't know for sure that the war is really happening. In fact, we don't know that anything is true, because almost all the information the characters have comes from the Party, the government of Oceania, and the Party's operations revolve around reality control. The Party's "leader" is an enigmatic figure referred to only as Big Brother, who, of course, is watching.

Our protagonist, Winston, lives in Oceania. There are Inner Party members, who are the highest-ranking, with the highest responsibility and the highest quality of life. There are Outer Party members, who work for the Party, are heavily surveilled, and whose daily needs are all provided for with low-quality supplies; they have a highly regimented daily schedule. Inner and Outer Party members have telescreens, which broadcast Party propaganda but also have cameras to monitor all Party members. It is incredibly difficult to get away from telescreens, since there's at least one in every home and they're everywhere in public. Altogether, the telescreens form a panopticon that is hard to evade.

Then there are the proles, a shortened term for proletarians, who are the lower classes of Oceania and make up the majority of the population. The proles live in poor conditions and are constantly manipulated by State-generated propaganda. However, they have more freedom than Party members, in the sense that they are also largely ignored by the Party because they have no real power and are assumed to be incapable of engaging in revolutionary behavior. For this reason, proles get to have human relationships and enjoy pleasures, wherever they can find pleasures, in ways that Party members are not allowed. In reality, the Party's perpetual war is a way of grinding through resources in order to keep people, especially the proles, buried under work without improving their quality of life. This is because when people have free time, they can use it to learn and organize, and they might become a threat to the Party.

Winston is one of the Outer Party members. He works in the government department that rewrites history. See, every time a fact or anecdote in the media is inconvenient for the Party, the Party goes back and destroys all old copies of newspapers and books, all old video content, all paperwork, any scrap of evidence that anything was different. Newspapers are routinely reprinted with "updated" (falsified) information. For example, Oceania is always either at war with Eurasia and allied with Eastasia, or at war with Eastasia and allied with Eurasia, and as far as the Party is concerned, this has never changed. Every single time Oceania's alliance changes, the newspapers are updated so that the current alignment has always been true. Every time someone becomes a disgrace to the Party, their previous deeds are rewritten.

On the surface, this sounds difficult to implement, but over the story, one realizes the vast majority of the Party's operations revolve purely around the constant reshaping of history, control of people's memories, and control of people's emotions for the purpose of maintaining power eternally. Art produced by human beings is actively discouraged; instead, the Party mass-produces art, including novels, using machines, to control what kinds of ideas people are consuming.

The Party is essentially a machine that controls reality, or at least, what the people inside it consider to be reality. There are people who specialize in managing the thoughts of the public: the Thought Police. While they may technically not be able to literally see inside one's mind, they watch everyone carefully and are excellent at noticing everything: every facial expression, every eyebrow twitch, and every breath.

The Party rules through a series of four "ministries." These are the Ministry of Truth (like an educational ministry, responsible for producing propaganda), the Ministry of Peace (like a military, responsible for warfare), the Ministry of Love (like the correctional system, responsible for jailing and torturing dissidents), and the Ministry of Plenty (like the treasury, responsible for rationing).

When it suits the Party, anyone can be "vaporized." This means they are secretly murdered and all evidence of them - any existing record whatsoever, any news story, any list or database entry - is erased.

The Party has a new language they're developing as a method of thought control called Newspeak. The purpose of Newspeak is to make it impossible to articulate certain kinds of thoughts. The following is a character named Syme describing Newspeak:

"Don't you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thoughtcrime literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it. ... In fact there will be no thought, as we understand it now. Orthodoxy means not thinking - not needing to think. Orthodoxy is unconsciousness."

It's worth noting that Syme is later vaporized, presumably just for being too insightful out loud about Newspeak. In Newspeak, people who have been vaporized, if they must ever be referred to at all, are called "unpersons." In this way, no one has ever been killed by the Party, because those people have never existed in the first place.

There's a key Newspeak word that appears over and over: doublethink. It's the ability to believe two contradictory things simultaneously, and unlike the way we usually experience cognitive dissonance, there is no urge or attempt to reconcile what is really true. With doublethink, the existence of two contradictory ideas at once is itself exploited to help Party members serve the Party.

The Party (and its equivalents in Eurasia and Eastasia) uses perpetual war to control the population by squandering the resources produced by human labor and keep people in a perpetual combination of patriotic fervor and fear. The war is infinite and can never be won; the whole purpose of the war is to be at war.

Socially, the Party has destroyed family life. Winston was married years ago. He and his wife are so estranged that he is no longer sure if she is alive. They did not have a good relationship. The Party does not want close emotional relationships between its members, so while they are strict about who is allowed to marry (not for love, strictly for procreation), they don't care if people continue to live together. However, the Party does not want people forming new relationships, so divorce and extramarital sex are also illegal. The Party has also turned children against their parents by encouraging children to report their parents' potential thoughtcrimes. All in all, family members are generally afraid of each other.

We see, over and over again, how the Party does its best to frame human beings as both inherently untrustworthy and as objects to be used. Pitting people from individual family members to entire classes, sexes, and races against each other is one of the Party's many techniques for controlling people, and it has seeped into Winston's everyday thought processes. Only actual experiences with other human beings even begin to break these ideas down.

Eventually, it becomes apparent that the Party's motivation is immortality through the denial of the individual. Human beings are denied their own personal thoughts, feelings, and bodies. Only their ability to be assimilated into the Party is permitted. Even thoughts and feelings about the greater good are unacceptable because these lead to regime changes and interfere with the raw totalitarian power of the Party. Every Party member in Oceania is meant to strive exclusively for the continued power of the Party. Dissidents are denied even the ability to be martyrs, because the Party does not kill people while they carry hatred for Big Brother; they simply change their thoughts until they are good Party members again, and then kill them later, when they are no longer dissidents and have no legacy of resistance to leave behind.

Winston's Plot

Winston has a secret desire to be free of the Party. He does get swept up in the Party's fervor when he's in the middle of it, but he also longs for the extremely basic pleasures and freedoms that have become taboo. For example, Winston secretly buys an old pen and journal to write in - a completely forbidden act that he has to conceal from the telescreen in his own apartment. He finds himself almost unconsciously writing things like "DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER" in that journal.

There is an Inner Party member named O'Brien who Winston admires greatly from a distance despite knowing only his appearance: "intelligent" with a "prizefighter's physique." Winston perceives that he and O'Brien "understand" each other somehow, and even believes O'Brien has spoken to him in a dream, saying they "shall meet where there is no darkness." Eventually, Winston imagines he is addressing his journal to the mysterious O'Brien, believing him to be an ally.

Winston has an acquaintance at work named Syme. Syme is very passionate about revising the Newspeak dictionary. However, he is a little too openly insightful about the true purpose of Newspeak for his own good. Even though Syme does not seem to have any intention of betraying the Party and in fact is extremely taken with Newspeak, Winston is convinced he will be vaporized, and sure enough, he is.

There is a woman Winston thinks he hates because she looks like the perfect Party member who would turn him in to the Thought Police. Actually, the narration outright states that he doesn't like women entirely, because he thinks they're too committed to the Party and enjoy betraying men. However, it turns out that this woman observes Winston by the shop where he bought his illegal notebook. By simply observing Winston in that shop, the Party would suspect he's committing thoughtcrimes, and Winston panics. However, the woman later bumps into Winston at work and passes him a note that says, "I love you." Winston then instantly decides he wants to be with her; the idea of not being with her never even occurs to him.

The woman's name is Julia. It turns out Julia is putting on an incredibly convincing act, but she hates the Party, too. Winston is technically married, so he can't legally marry Julia, and any kind of non-procreative sex is illegal anyway, so their relationship is entirely forbidden.

Winston and Julia meet up and have sex in secret. It's worth noting that during their first meeting, they enjoy listening to a thrush singing. During this first meeting, they go out to the countryside, where there are fewer telescreens and microphones; Winston comments that it's like the "Golden Country," his symbolic dream-place where people are free.

A man named Mr. Charrington owns the shop where Winston had bought his notebook, and he also owns a room for rent above the shop. It's an old-fashioned prole room without telescreens and with a great number of old-fashioned fixtures. Winston and Julia rent it to get away from Party life for a few hours every now and then. When they first start staying in the room, Julia observes a rat and throws her shoe at it. Winston is utterly terrified, showing that he has a serious phobia of rats; it is vaguely implied that he had a traumatic moment related to them as a child. Julia takes the rat in stride; they are everywhere. She promises to block up the hole so the rat does not return.

Julia and Winston spend time in their prole room knowing for sure that it will eventually lead to their capture, torture, and death, but they decide it will be worth it. Winston voices some interest in trying to work against the Party; Julia does not believe this is possible whatsoever, and is not interested in trying. She believes people are better off putting on a convincing act and getting away with as much as they can for as long as they can.

Meanwhile, during the workday, O'Brien speaks to Winston. He mentions Syme without using his name, which is incredibly unusual, since people who are vaporized are never ever acknowledged again; all their work is erased from history. But O'Brien mentions Syme's work on the Newspeak dictionary and gives Winston his home address so that Winston can borrow the dictionary. Party members also don't often give each other their addresses. Because of these unusual cues, Winston infers that O'Brien is inviting him over to conspire against the Party.

While Winston and Julia meet up and have sex, they also indulge in other pleasures of the world, like real coffee and chocolate, and proles singing outside their window, and art that hasn't been generated by the Party. Observing the proles and their richer emotional lives, Winston and Julia decide they are going to worry only about their feelings. The Party can coerce them to do anything, including to confess, but as long as the Party can't make them stop loving each other, they agree, they will never have betrayed each other. Julia says that for all the things the Party can do, they can't get inside their heads.

So seized are Winston and Julia by their conviction that they decide to go visit O'Brien together and confess to wanting to destroy the Party. O'Brien tells them they may join the Brotherhood, a mysterious group of dissidents working to bring down Big Brother, but they must be willing to sacrifice everything; they must be willing to not only suffer and die, but to murder civilians, to spread disease, to sow discord, to do anything the Brotherhood asks of them. They even, O'Brien says, must be willing to "separate and never see one another again." This is the only thing Julia and Winston are unwilling to agree to. O'Brien accepts them anyway and, many days later, gives Winston a book through a secret messenger.

This book contains the writings of Goldstein, the supposed leader of the Brotherhood, outlining the Party's core philosophy. Winston reads this to Julia, who is hinted to not be all that interested, but she does listen a little.

While they look out the window and contemplate that the proles are alive and the Party members are already dead, Winston and Julia are captured. It turns out Mr. Charrington was a member of the Thought Police and the room had surveillance in it. Winston and Julia are separated and dragged to the Ministry of Love.

While at the Ministry of Love, Winston spends a lot of time waiting, watching other prisoners pass through. Some of them are proles, and some of them are people he knows. The waiting room is enormous and brightly lit with telescreens on all walls. There are essentially no shadows.

Another familiar face appears at the Ministry of Love. It's O'Brien. Winston first thinks O'Brien has been captured, but it soon becomes apparent that O'Brien was masterminding this whole operation and is in charge of Winston's torture. They have, indeed, met "where there is no darkness" - because of all the telescreens and artificial lighting. O'Brien and other Party members even wrote Goldstein's book as yet another propaganda piece. O'Brien states the description of the Party in the book is true, although the book's implication that the Party can be defeated through a prole uprising is false because a prole uprising will never happen. (Note that Winston did not actually read the part of the book where "Goldstein" outlined how the Party should be defeated.)

Winston is tortured for an undetermined amount of time. He discovers that he is a prisoner of his body; his torturers can get him to say pretty much anything through punishment and reward. In fact, they can force him to feel certain ways, too. O'Brien and the Party aren't only trying to get Winston to give away information; they want him to really internalize sincere belief in the Party doctrine, like doublethink, symbolized by the concept that 2+2 equals 5.

Winston starts out promising to himself there are certain things he will never agree to or say out loud, but torture proves an effective method at getting him to say whatever O'Brien wants. Winston vows that he will recite the Party lines, but will not actually believe them. If he lies to get the torture to stop but still retains his ability to reason for himself, Winston believes, then he can beat the Party.

However, O'Brien and the torturers are slowly able to break that down, too, as they are good at reading Winston's emotions, and they torture him every time he recites their desired lines without the sincere belief they're looking for. Winston is highly resistant to the 2+2=5 idea, but as he is tortured over and over, he does come to believe that because the Party can define his reality through brute force, then 2+2=5 could very well be true. They can force it to be true. He has no choice but to believe it, because only believing it might possibly end his torture, and the torture must end.

In other words, Winston and Julia were wrong. The Party can, in fact, get inside your head.

When Winston starts to believe 2+2=5, O'Brien does indeed start to improve his treatment of Winston, providing him with food and comfort, allowing Winston to become much healthier over time. This bonds Winston to O'Brien and makes him feel attached. However, Winston has not forgotten Julia, and in an unguarded moment, he cries out for her. This prompts O'Brien to ask Winston his feelings, again, about Big Brother. Winston states that he hates Big Brother.

It is at this moment when O'Brien sends Winston to the notorious Room 101.

In Room 101, prisoners face their worst fears - which, of course, the Party knows, because they know everything about everyone. Winston, who we know has a phobia of rats, is shown a pair of cages with starving rats in them. He is told that the rats are, as everyone in this world knows, flesh-eaters, despite being rodents. Winston is restrained, his head held in place, and O'Brien informs him that the rats will be released to eat his face.

Winston realizes what O'Brien wants to hear: he realizes his torturers will probably not allow the rats to eat him if he is willing to inflict the torture on Julia instead. They want Winston's betrayal of Julia to be complete. They want him to stop caring for her, the one thing he and Julia had once agreed they would never, ever do. And Winston has reached his limit: he cannot tolerate the idea of being eaten alive specifically by rats. So Winston says, "Do it to Julia! Not me! Julia!"

And then he is finally let go.

We continue with Winston once again living on the outside. He has seen and spoken to Julia, who was also let go. But the bond between them is completely broken. Julia admits she also betrayed Winston when she was faced with Room 101.

"Sometimes," she said, "they threaten you with something---something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, 'Don't do it to me, do it to somebody else, do it to so-and-so.' And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it. But that isn't true. At the time when it happens you do mean it. You think there's no other way of saving yourself, and you're quite ready to save yourself that way. You want it to happen to the other person. You don't give a damn what they suffer. All you care about is yourself." "All you care about is yourself," he echoed. "And after that, you don't feel the same toward the other person any longer." "No," he said, "you don't feel the same."

In other words, by demonstrating to Winston and Julia that they ultimately cannot escape their own self-interest, O'Brien has caused them to reject each other.

At the tail end of the book, Winston is sitting in his usual spot at a place called the Chestnut Tree Café, pondering a happy moment from his childhood before pushing the memory away, believing it to be a false memory. When an enormous military victory is announced on the telescreen, Winston realizes that he finally, truly loves Big Brother.

Interpretation of the End

Although the events at the end of the book are pretty straightforwardly described, I found them slightly confusing on an emotional level. Winston and Julia aren't really angry at each other for their betrayals, it doesn't seem - in fact, they admit to each other that's what happened, and they agree on their mutual experience. But they don't love each other anymore, and Winston loves Big Brother instead.

So, here is my initial thought on what the characters went through:

For people to love each other, both need a sense of individuality. There needs to be a connection, but there also needs to be a specific You and a Somebody to love, to connect to.

Through torture, O'Brien has effectively torn away Winston's individual sense of self. I know that's a weird thing to suggest when the book repeats "all you care about is yourself" multiple times, but I think that by so completely obliterating Winston's ability to make anything resembling his own decision, O'Brien has essentially made "Big Brother" and "Winston ('yourself')" the same person. Big Brother's wishes are Winston's wishes. Winston has been assimilated into Big Brother. Winston and Julia's conversation at the end describes what it feels like to be liquidated as a person and assimilated into a collective.

Winston now knows that the one core impulse he can never escape is self-preservation, and the only one who can provide that, with infinite military might and an infinitely-deep torture repertoire, is Big Brother. Julia represents the ideal that caused Winston to estrange himself from the safety of embracing and trusting Big Brother. And because Big Brother is both eternal and almighty, giver of both life and death, he is the only one it is safe to trust.

By betraying Julia, Winston discovered that his own will inherently had limits; because he would always, eventually, revert to self-preservation, his will and therefore his identity became synonymous with the force that decided whether to preserve him. That's why the end of the novel involves Winston imagining that he has finally been shot in the head and killed; he has experienced the death of his sense of self. And this is exactly how "Goldstein's" book indicated the Party's operations work: eliminate individuals and assimilate them into a collective to achieve immortality.

Character and Faction Parallels Between Nineteen Eighty-Four and Good Omens

The Party and Heaven and Hell

They're both the one overarching power over everyone's existence. The inner workings of it are mysterious to the characters and even moreso to the audience. The main characters are agents working for these entities, and they are controlled through surveillance, punishment, and reward.

Although Heaven and Hell give the impression of being two large overarching powers, it seems apparent to me that the whole thing is really just one system that has intentionally split its workforce into factions. Ultimately I think we will see in the most explicit way possible that whoever is actively calling the shots in Heaven is also actively in charge of Hell.

Winston and Julia, Aziraphale and Crowley

Both pairs are agents who are in love with each other even though they're not supposed to be, who enjoy Earthly pleasures and experience the joys of humanity before getting arrested and dragged away by their authoritarian "employers."

It's tempting to try and figure out which character mirrors which - Aziraphale mirroring Winston, Crowley mirroring Julia? - but I think, sort of like with Nina and Maggie, the reflections work in every direction. The characters aren't literal stand-ins for each other, but they are exploring similar themes, including what happens to people when a society forbids intimacy.

O'Brien and the Metatron

"More even than of strength, he gave an impression of confidence and of an understanding tinged by irony." This line describes O'Brien from Nineteen Eighty-Four, but it sounds quite a lot like the Metatron's manner as he enters Aziraphale's bookshop. Confidence and an understanding tinged by irony indeed.

O'Brien seems to appeal to Winston's ideal in authority figures, appealing both intelligent and physically strong. The Metatron seems to have tailored himself to appeal to Aziraphale's ideal of an authority figure: someone who is calm and in control, but also has an exceptionally gentle manner (and this isn't really true of the Metatron, but he can make it look like it is).

There are more similarities. Winston thinks and hopes O'Brien will be a helpful figure, and O'Brien convinces Winston he's a helpful figure, but in the end, O'Brien is the mastermind behind Winston's capture and torture. Additionally, Winston assumes, during his torture, that the Party's drive for power is for the Greater Good. But O'Brien tells him this is stupid, and the Party's drive for power is just for the pure sake of having power, because that's the only thing that will guarantee the Party's immortality.

This reminds me a little bit of the Metatron telling Aziraphale the point of the war is to win it, not to avoid it. It also hits me as a potential motivation for Heaven - like, why do they do what they do instead of doing something else, since the universe seems perfectly capable of running itself? "Power" or "immortality" could be a reason, and it would also be a reason that would resonate with very human themes, since power and (symbolic) immortality are among the motivations that can drive real-life authoritarians.

The Proles and Humanity

The common people. The populations who are considered by the main characters' societies to be "beneath" them, but who the main characters become fascinated by, and whose lifestyles the main characters come to prefer.

Both Nineteen Eighty-Four and Good Omens contain in their narratives the notion that the prole or human way of life is where true meaning can be experienced. Winston and Julia go as far as to announce that proles are alive and Party members are dead. And at the end of Good Omens Season 1, Aziraphale outright tells Adam that being "human incarnate" is better than being Heaven or Hell incarnate.

This mirror is probably the one that brings up the richest speculation possibilities for me. I won't go in-depth here, but I see in both stories the main characters developing this love for the proles and humans while continuing to separate from them - even trying to turn around and exploit the very power structures that have oppressed them in an effort to fight against the oppression.

It's worth noting that in Nineteen Eighty-Four, Mr. Charrington, the man who Winston and Julia rented their secret love nest from, and whom they thought was a prole, was actually a member of the Thought Police who helped capture them, whereas in Good Omens, so far, the humans have just been humans, and while Adam Young started out as an incredibly powerful non-human, he later chose to be a human and used his power to reject authoritarianism.

The Themes

Authoritarianism and Power

Obviously, the whole overarching cautionary tale in Nineteen Eighty-Four is about authoritarianism and the insidious ways it affects populations. The Party's power is almost as absolute as it can possibly be. Big Brother really is almost always watching; there is almost always a telescreen somewhere nearby. Even when there isn't a telescreen, there are microphones. And unorthodox ideas and behavior are punished with annihilation - not just death, but the total annihilation of the self.

Doesn't this sound like a version of Heaven and Hell in Good Omens?

At first glance, it appears Oceania's Party is more aggressive about surveilling its Party members than Heaven and Hell are about surveilling Aziraphale and Crowley. One has to wonder if perhaps Heaven and Hell are just as aggressive with surveillance in the Upstairs and Downstairs themselves, but are less aggressive or maybe even less capable on Earth, just like the Party's surveillance is less in the countryside (although it is still a significant threat there).

But still, we see Michael pull out those photos of Crowley and Aziraphale through the ages, and we hear the Metatron refer to reviewing Aziraphale's "exploits," and we see Hell drag Crowley down in 1827, and we see both Crowley and Aziraphale anxiously glancing around throughout history with the assumption that someone might be listening, and we see how ready Heaven is to erase Gabriel's memories (his identity! his entire self!) from existence. We also watch Heaven and Hell try to make Aziraphale and Crowley disappear in a gout of hellfire and a tub of holy water after realizing that Aziraphale and Crowley do represent a threat to the current celestial order. Heaven and Hell's Nineteen Eighty-Four-esque insidious threat is clearly established in both seasons.

Vaporizing Dissidents

In fact, Heaven and Hell's arrest of Aziraphale and Crowley reminds me a bit of Winston and Julia's arrest, in the sense that the protagonists knew what was probably coming but not exactly when. And Heaven's attempted execution of Aziraphale in particular reminds me very much of the Party choosing to vaporize a dissident. They were going to try to disappear him. No angel or demon other than the ones who were involved would have known what happened to him. Hell's attempted execution of Crowley, meanwhile, reminds me of the Party's public executions of war prisoners.

Finally, the Party will attempt to erase people from existence by killing them and then erasing all records related to them, down to the very last detail. Meanwhile, the Archangel Michael threatens Aziraphale with being literally written out of existence in the Book of Life. There's lots of speculation about how possible this is. I wonder if maybe, it's a flawed process. Maybe erasing someone from the Book of Life can cut a hole shaped like them in the universe - but maybe it isn't that simple, and they don't actually get taken from anyone else's memories. Maybe, as people in Oceania haven't quite lost the ability to remember their dead, Heaven cannot actually erase the fact of anyone.

Social Disconnection

I see a lot of complaints online about the characters of Nineteen Eighty-Four being impossible to like. What tends to make characters likable? Their behaviors toward others, especially humor, compassion, individual quirks, and affection. Their moral strengths, like a sense of justice, might appeal to us, too. And what has the Party been systematically beating out of people for decades now? Anything that could possibly make fictional characters likable.

One of the Party's primary modes of social control is to keep people from having individual, intimate relationships outside of the Party. Each individual regards every other individual with distrust at all times, and only the Party is capable of providing safety. Winston mentions many instances in which he believes parents are afraid of their children, for example. There are also a number of people who he thinks would report him for thoughtcrimes.

This is getting into heavy speculation territory, but it hits me as a major motivation for the Fall in the first place. It's a great way to instantly divide Heaven itself in half, make everyone instantly suspicious of everyone else, and set up a whole bunch of rewards and punishments to hold over people's heads related to Falling.

One thing that's obvious, though, is the total lack of social connection in Heaven. Michael and Uriel are constantly treating each other with barely-suppressed contempt. Muriel wants approval so badly, but nobody has any patience for them. The "friendliest" any angels get are Gabriel and Sandalphon in Season 1, and that's still like, corporate-coworkers-style friendliness. Gabriel outright tells Beelzebub that no one has ever given him anything. Although it's...theoretically possible Gabriel is an outlier, I think his experience is probably representative of all the angels.

Bodily Experiences, Physicality, Gross Matter

There is a moment that made a big impression on me. Winston observes a prole woman outside singing a silly popular song at the top of her lungs as she works. This woman is not an attractive person by Winston's or Party standards; she is older, she is fat, she has a "lower-class" accent, her skin is weathered and reddened from working outside. But Winston, self-admitted misogynist who came of age on the Party's feminine ideal, thinks she is beautiful. He has a moment of realization that she's beautiful because the very things that theoretically would make her "unattractive" are evidence of a human life fully lived.

We also have Winston and Julia enjoying the world through their senses together in a way that they simply cannot in the grips of the Party. From listening to a thrush in the countryside to drinking real, delicious coffee, they experience pleasures that are denied to them and cause them to feel peaceful in a way that is denied to Outer Party members. As they experience life in a way that is much closer to the ways of the proles, they decide that only proles are alive; Party members are dead. It is at the moment when they speak this out loud that the Party chooses to capture them.

There's a darker side to the bodily experiences explored in Nineteen Eighty-Four, and that's experienced in the Ministry of Love. Here, Winston and Julia discover that their thoughts and feelings are indeed controlled by their bodies. There is only so much pain a human being can withstand before they will comply with their captors just to get the torture to stop. In fact, if the Party's psychological manipulation tactics haven't worked thus far to indoctrinate the population, then the body can be used to brute-force an attitude change.

The connection to Good Omens here is obvious. Aziraphale and Crowley are just like a couple of Outer Party members who haven't experienced real pleasure before, and then they discover wine and ox ribs and music and nice clothes and all those delightful human experiences that the other angels sneer at. It seems Heaven looks down on Earthly pleasure as a morally inferior, dirty pursuit, while Hell looks on Earthly pleasure as a kind of weakness, a pathetic softness. But Earth is where Aziraphale and Crowley have found meaning. Physical existence is where they've found themselves, where they've connected with each other, and where they've connected with the stuff of the universe itself.

Memory Manipulation and Thought Policing

In Nineteen Eighty-Four, there are massive governmental departments dedicated to revising all printed records, including reprinting newspapers as needed. Private writing is also not allowed. This means that even if a Party member has a memory, there is no physical evidence of it. Even if there were physical evidence, something a person had stuffed away in a safe place, there would be another, more "official" source to prove one's personal source wrong. Of course, anyone trying to make any kind of fuss about official sources being wrong would disappear, too, so no one will even try.

Winston mentions often in his narration that he has trouble remembering large portions of his life because of the way the Party has controlled the public narrative and obscured any fact that would once have been a point of reference for him. For example, Winston estimates that the date his journal starts would be April 4, 1984, but he actually isn't certain, not even about the year, because time isn't kept track of by those dates anymore. Historical facts, like events that led to the Party's ascent to power, have been rewritten so many times that Winston can no longer know what really happened. He can be sure there was chaos in the streets, followed by violence, and then proclamations from above about what was supposedly true, but one individual human being usually can't judge the big picture of what's going on in their entire society without a relatively objective source of information for major events.

Nineteen Eighty-Four also has literal thought police, Party members who study their fellow citizens for any sign of even the most remote disagreement with Party doctrine. If someone proves to be a problematic thinker, as Winston and Julia both did, they are dragged to the Ministry of Love to be violently re-educated. Using a series of punishments and rewards, prisoners are slowly broken down until they are unable to think for themselves at all.

Although it's unclear what Heaven is like in regards to spreading information, we've got the Metatron and the Archangels literally ready to erase Gabriel's memory. In Good Omens, since it's all dressed up in Heavenly attire and the characters have their unique attitudes, it comes across as less dystopian, more quirky and fantastical. But they are fundamentally threatening exactly what is done in Nineteen Eighty-Four. And based on Beelzebub's comment about how Gabriel's memory is "all your...you," the same identity issues would be at play. To erase Gabriel's memories would be to erase everything that makes Gabriel himself - an execution by another name.

Reality As A Construct (Or Not)

The Party's stance on reality is fairly simple: human beings perceive reality, so if human perception can be altered, reality can be changed and turned into whatever the Party wants it to be. This sounds wrong because it is wrong, but people who the Party has targeted for thought control don't get to think for themselves about it, because they can't withstand the torture.

This might be Heaven's approach to reality as well. Look at how questioning is discouraged, and how the angels choose to believe whatever is most convenient for Heaven, or whatever they believe should be true ("there are no back channels").

More importantly, though, we have characters in Good Omens who actually can change reality. In particular, this is what Adam Young does - and what he actively chooses not to do for the majority of the world, in the end. He only adjusts reality enough to be allowed to make his own decision: he's not the Antichrist anymore. Otherwise, he restores the world to its state from before he ascended to power (aside from a couple of tiny little eleven-year-old-boy-ish tweaks here and there; hey, you can't blame a kid for adding a few extras of his favorite books to the world).

Proles as the saviors of society

So this one is complicated because repeatedly through Nineteen Eighty-Four, we come across this feeling from WInston and Julia that the proles have some almost mystical connection to True Humanity which Party members have lost. However, there is also the repeated assumption that the proles are incapable of revolution on their own. And in a practical sense, this appears to be true. The intellectuals of their world look down on them for it, but the truth is that just as in real life, the proles are living in poverty and are far too desperate for their basic necessities to ever gain the class consciousness needed to overthrow the Party. This is, of course, by design.

Winston goes as far as to believe the proles might possibly rise up and overthrow the Party, but he never considers working with them. He goes straight into the jaws of the Inner Party instead! This seems to be for a couple of reasons, but primarily because Winston has formed this sort of attachment to O'Brien, his Inner Party member of choice.

In Good Omens, Season 1 and the book, humans do eventually save the world. Well, Adam - technically an Antichrist - saves the world by thinking like a human and accepting humanity as his true "side."

Free Will

"Free will" as a theme really ties into humanity as a theme in Good Omens, since Earth is neutral ground between Heaven and Hell and humans aren't born to a particular Side. In Nineteen Eighty-Four, of course, the Party's goal is to eliminate free will, while in Good Omens, Heaven and Hell are looking to eliminate humanity.

Individualism Versus Collectivism

Oh there it is! There's my pet theme!

I've always argued that in Good Omens, the core of the dualism explored between Aziraphale and Crowley is individualism and collectivism, with Crowley the dedicated individualist who nonetheless would like to belong somewhere, and Aziraphale the nervous collectivist who is secretly desperate to have an identity and belongings to himself. Good Omens has already touched on the notion that working together as a collective is necessary to keep the world turning, but it's also important to preserve individuality, so we have people to keep us company and meaning to live for. I think this will come up again.

Meanwhile, Nineteen Eighty-Four explores an authoritarian and destructive form of collectivism in which human beings are not allowed to have individual interests or experiences; everything flows toward the power of the Party. Individual identity is viewed as a weakness. With that said, Nineteen Eighty-Four does consider the potential power of collectives to overcome authoritarianism.

Mortality, Immortality, and Change

In Nineteen Eighty-Four, O'Brien eventually reveals that the goal of the Party is to become immortal through collectivism. While the fate of an individual human being is always to die, the Party believes a collective that is single-minded enough about maintaining power can live forever. In that way, people who submit to the Party's power can live forever, too. One has to wonder about the real point of all this, of course. The Party regards change as its downfall. For the Party to succeed, it must keep everyone moving toward the exact same goal of maintaining power forever.

In Good Omens, many of the characters are naturally immortal, as angels or demons. They don't have to change, and Heaven and Hell don't have to change. However, existing as immortals in Heaven or Hell, not experiencing any of the things mortals do in the physical world, all seems pretty obviously pointless. Aziraphale and Crowley, and then Gabriel and Beelzebub, and then Muriel, all start to find meaning on Earth among mortals. And I think this is all yet to be expanded upon, especially with the looming Second Coming.

Where Good Omens is concerned, the notion of change as a type of death and/or death as a type of change may be important (and ties into The Crow Road by Iain Banks as well).

By coming to Earth, the immortal characters are essentially doing the reverse of assimilating with the Party or Heaven and Hell: they're discovering themselves. With self-discovery comes the risk of change - changing from who they used to be in Heaven or Hell - and the reward of meaning.

The Party of Oceania wants to assimilate everyone into the same goal of maintaining the Party's power in order to make the Party immortal. While "maintaining power" is a "purpose" of sorts for the collective, on an individual level for any specific human being, it is nihilistic, since there is no place for the individual other than ensuring the success of the Party's destruction of the individual.

Freedom in the Natural World

In both stories, we've got the notion of nature as a place of freedom. The countryside where Winston and Julia first meet up lacks telescreens, and there are fewer microphones as well, allowing them to act naturally in a way that isn't usually permitted in the city. The room that Winston and Julia rent from Mr. Charrington is also so old-fashioned that it doesn't have a telescreen; they believe themselves to be momentarily safe in their own little world there. Unfortunately, Mr. Charrington is not really an ordinary prole, but a member of the Thought Police, which allows the Party to invade Winston's and Julia's space.

Of course, in Good Omens, Earth is the ultimate place of freedom. Heaven and Hell are both awful in their ways, hyper-controlled and devoid of real meaning. It's on Earth that Aziraphale and Crowley can begin to truly live. Of course, the safe little place they create together, the bookshop, is eventually invaded by Heaven and Hell.

I'd like to leave you with a pair of quotations.

"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face---forever. ... And remember that it is forever. The face will always be there to be stamped upon. The heretic, the enemy of society, will always be there, so that he can be defeated and humiliated over again. Everything that you have undergone since you have been in our hands---all that will continue, and worse. The espionage, the betrayals, the arrests, the tortures, the executions, the disappearances will never cease." O'Brien Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell Part Three, Chapter III

"If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends. If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boot . . . no, imagine a sneaker, laces trailing, kicking a pebble; imagine a stick, to poke at interesting things, and throw for a dog that may or may not decide to retrieve it; imagine a tuneless whistle, pounding some luckless popular song into insensibility; imagine a figure, half angel, half devil, all human . . . Slouching hopefully towards Tadfield. . . . . . . forever. Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

#good omens #nineteen eighty four #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #1984 #good omens book club #long post #torture mention #sa mention

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hochsleep · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: Just survive somehow

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: profanity, typical TWD violence.

• Summary: You and your little sister Lottie have to escape from the walkers in the forest. You both almost become lunch for the living dead, but suddenly you are rescued by a stranger, and thanks to persuasion you manage to get to his camp in the quarry. But it seems that the relationship between you does not work out. You will have to find an approach to him, because otherwise you will not survive.

• Word count: 4k

• A/N: Well, I've written...something. I actually have no idea how I'm going to combine this fanfic and the Daryl Dixon x OC fanfic on ao3 (there's a link in the pinned post on my profile page if you're interested), but I'm going to try. Yeah, I literally wrote in an introductory post a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't be writing big works on Tumblr and where are we now? I haven't been very consistent in what I've said. Anyways, posting the first chapter now.

I know it might be a bit boring in the beginning now, I'm not a big fan of the first episodes or chapters in series and books myself, but you have to start somewhere. I'm still just getting into the subject of Y/N fanfics, so I'll be learning as I write the work. What I can say now.

Please correct me in the comments if you find mistakes! Of course, I double-check my work before publishing, but something could still slip through. Especially since you, as an English-speaking audience, will be more attentive to turns of speech, slang and so on. Let me remind you that English is not my native language and I use a translator (you can read more about it in the attached post in my profile). So feel free to make corrections, I am always open to help and constructive criticism!

Oh, and also, congrats to everyone on the release of TWD: Daryl Dixons season 2!

Enjoy reading!

Then.

"Come on, Lottie, hurry up!" - you shouted to your little ten-year-old sister, who ran after you between the trees in the forest.

“Y/N!” a little girl shouted, following you but lagging behind every now and then.

A few walkers was getting closer, and it was like Lottie could barely move her legs. She had to run faster. She should have saved herself. But could you blame a ten-year-old girl? She’d had to lose her family and friends in the last few days, and there were the living dead walking the earth. The world has changed at the snap of a finger. Lottie probably still hoped it was just a bad dream.

You too.

You had to watch your neighbor across the street, Mrs. Faulkner, pounce on your mother and start biting chunks of skin off her neck without much effort. That's hardly realistic. But that's life now. All those radio warnings about a virus spreading in Europe turned out to be true. That it was incurable. That the dead will rise up and walk the earth again. That their bite would kill you and make you come back to life after a while. It all seemed so distant and unrealistic that you, like most Americans, just changed the channel on the TV or radio when you heard the news of the virus again. After all, there's been a lot of crap and "incurable" diseases throughout human history. If a plague in the Middle Ages couldn't kill the entire world's population, why would some disease do it in 2010 when medicine is booming almost everywhere in the world? Bullshit.

Where are you now? Running with your little sister through the woods while at least four walking corpses are chasing you? This whole thing really does feel like a cheap horror movie. Or a scary dream. A scary dream in a cheap horror movie.

“Lottie! You can’t stop!” you screamed while your little sister looked back and slowed down at every opportunity.

You had a hard time running yourself. Not that you’ve been a fanatic about physical activity in all the years of your life. Yoga and Pilates were your max and only on feel-good days. But the adrenaline in your blood was doing its thing and it allowed you to run faster and longer. Which was not the case with your sister. The girl was tired and breathing hard. She kept looking back to see how close the walkers were to the two of you, even though you had forbidden her to look back.

“Y/N, they’re close! They’re going to catch up with us!” shouted Lottie panting.

You started frantically looking around for a place to take cover. Apparently Lottie wouldn’t be able to run for much longer. You were breathing hard, too, and your legs were sore from the exertion. You had to hide. But where the hell could you hide in the middle of the woods? In the long run, you could hide behind a large tree, but the walkers had already spotted you and were following you, so that option was no longer viable. Climb a tree? You could if you knew how to climb trees. But even so, how long can you and Lottie stay in a tree? You’d have to come down sooner or later, and walkers don’t feel tired or weak, so you couldn’t expect them to give up and fall asleep at some point. No, they’re going to wait until the food comes down from the tree. And again, you can’t climb trees. But Lottie can. What are the chances she’ll agree to climb a tree while you distract the walkers? What’s the chance you’ll survive? How’s she gonna get back down and survive in the woods alone? She’s barely ten years old, for goodness sake, and she didn’t get out into the wild until the last few days! You're all she's got. She's all you have. So it’s just the two of you hiding and surviving together.

“Come on, sweetie, just a little more!” you grabbed your sister’s hand and dragged her forward.

Now.

“Carl! That’s not fair!” shouted Lottie as the boy stuffed the last five hazelnuts into his mouth and grinned cockily.

“It’s all fair, whoever got there first takes it all,” Carl said with his mouth full.

“I’ve just turned my back and you’ve already eaten it all! We’re out of nuts!” frowned Lottie.

“Daryl will find more when he goes hunting,” Carl only shrugged innocently.

“Then you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Lottie snorted and got up from the plaid she and Carl were sitting on.

Lottie approached Carol and Sophia, who were ironing clothes. Sophia’s father was a cruel man as far as Lottie could tell. He had forbidden his daughter from playing with the other two children at camp simply because he had decided to. And now the creepy man sat on a folding chair with a bottle of beer in his hand and strictly made sure Sophia stayed close to her mother and helped her with her “women's responsibilities” as he called it. It sucked.

“Hi, Sophia,” Lottie smiled at the girl, “and Mrs. Pelletier,” she nodded to Carol.

“Hello, honey,” Carol smiled gently at the girl. Sophia looked at her father warily and not noticing the vehement objection on his face, she smiled and nodded to Lottie.

“Carl ate all the nuts, but I brought you what I managed to salvage,” Lottie pulled a few hazelnuts out of the pocket of her jean shorts and held them out to her friend.

“Thank you,” Sophia said quietly and quickly tucked the nuts into her pocket while her father turned away.

“When can you play with me and Carl? Maybe tonight?” asked Lottie hopefully.

“Maybe tomorrow?” answered Carol for Sophia when she saw her head lowered frustratedly. “I’ll talk to Daddy, honey,” said the woman to her daughter, stroking her back.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lottie sighed and went on to find something else to do besides playing with Carl. She was still mad at him a little about the nuts.

You were on duty on the roof of Dale’s motorhome, a kindly older man who tried to change you every twenty minutes and told you to go get some rest. But the duty was actually a rest. You just sat on a folding chair on the roof of the car and watched the surroundings. Dale and Glenn were basically doing the same duties, only with a shotgun in hand. Just in case. You weren’t trusted with a shotgun. It didn’t make much sense since you couldn’t shoot. And you weren’t very good at close combat. So you just had to keep an eye on the area around the camp and warn them of possible danger. It’s no big deal. Except that the merciless Georgia sun was as hot as anywhere in Africa. It seemed that way to you, anyway. You were sweating in every part of your body, your hair sticking to the damp skin on your back, your clothes wet with sweat, and you were as tanned as if you’d gone to a tanning salon. The only thing that kept you warm was the powdered lemonade Dale had made, some old nature magazine from the glove compartment of Shane’s jeep, and the cowboy hat Andrea had lent you. Even though you've spent the last ten years of your life in Georgia, you've managed to hide from the heat until this day. Whether at home in your stepdad's garage under a fan while he blames his barely living car. Or at work in the supermarket by the house. There were old air conditioners that you thought were your age, but you didn't complain as long as they worked. Especially hot days you spent in a cozy old cafe from the 50's, where your mother worked as a waitress and let you lounge for hours in the coziest booth close to the fan. In general you had no need to sit under the sun in such hellish heat without a hint of shade. How could there be any shade on the roof of an old mobile home? You have to melt like a piece of butter on toast.

You heard someone climbing up the ladder to the roof. It definitely wasn't Dale, you'd have realized from his static grunts. It was Lottie. Her old pink cap appeared before you saw your sister.

“Hey,” you smiled at your little sister, “I thought you were hanging out with Carl and Sophia.”

“Carl’s a jerk today, and Sofia can’t play with us, her dad won’t let her,” the girl snorted and sat on your lap, because sitting on the sun-hot roof of the car wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Hey, I’d take a swear jar from you right now,” you tried to look at Lottie with a stern big sister look, but it never really worked. It looked ridiculous and hardly got any respect from the kid.

“Sorry,” the girl sighed, “but Carl is really behaving badly today. He ate the last of the nuts while I was distracted and didn’t even have a chance to protect them…”

“Are you really upset about the nuts?” you chuckled.

“No, more of an injustice…I was hoping we’d split the nuts fairly between the three of us, but Carl ruined it,” Lottie rested her head on your shoulder sitting on your lap.

It was so damn sweet. The way Lottie loves you. There’s often tension between sisters, but not in your family. Charlotte was born when you were 13 and that’s a really big difference, but you always wanted a brother or sister. And even though sometimes you had to miss seeing your friends to take care of Lottie when Mom and your stepfather, your little sister’s father, were working late, you still loved Charlotte with all your heart. Although it’s hard not to love her. She had a mild-mannered personality, rarely acted cranky, and sometimes acted like a little adult. At least you were a more rambunctious child at her age, according to your mother and other relatives. Only as you got older did you become a calm and peaceful person, and as a child you could afford to kick the asses of the boys who hurt you in junior high school. Charlotte, on the contrary, preferred to solve conflicts peacefully and disliked violence already at the age of ten. The age when children can be really violent, but your sister was not. Now, however, she seems to be really angry with Carl. But it’s probably because of all the stress you’ve both been under for the past three weeks. Everyone’s been on edge right now. That’s the way the world is now.

“I’ll find you some new nuts in the woods,” you said, stroking your sister’s soft hair.

“You’re afraid to go into the woods,” sighed Lottie.

“I’ll ask Glenn or Amy to come with me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask Daryl? “Lottie looked at you in anticipation.

Oh, that’s right. Daryl. Well, that was a bit of a problem.

Then.

You tugged at Lottie’s arm, who was stumbling at almost every step. The walkers were coming faster and faster. Your courage and confidence were running away from you just as fast. But you did not let go of your sister’s hand and kept moving forward.

“Y/N!” the little girl’s shrill cry echoed throughout the forest.

You turned around and saw one of the walkers grab the hood of Lottie’s sweatshirt. A tall man with a rotten open wound near his collarbone, with gray cadaverous skin, white eyes, and rotten teeth and nails. Death itself came closer than ever to you and your sister. And you had no idea what to do.

“No! Let her go!” you screamed in panic at the walker as if he could understand you.

“Y/N!” large tears flowed down the little girl’s cheeks.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the worst. You knew it would happen sooner or later. From the moment your neighbor ate your mother. From the moment your stepfather John set himself up to feed the walkers two days ago so you and Lottie could escape. Since the world died. You knew you were going to die, too. And your ten-year-old sister, who didn’t have time to live. It has to happen, whether you’re ready or not. But you are ready. Death has taken over the world now, and who are you to fight it? You just hoped that you and Lottie wouldn’t have to suffer and…

With a dull thud, the arrow pierced the forehead of the walker that had grabbed Lottie and he finally fell to the ground dead. Lottie threw herself into your arms without thinking, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist and sobbing into your chest. You looked around in incomprehension until you saw a man with a crossbow. He put down the remaining three walkers with the remaining arrows. Clearly and without missing. Like he’d done it every day before the outbreak.

Man paused, looking at you and Lottie sobbing in your arms, and then without a word walked over to the corpses to pull his arrows from their skulls. Right now, however, you didn’t have the strength to say a few words. You didn’t have the strength to say a barely audible “thank you” for saving your life. The man looked at you, chewing his lower lip and without saying anything, lowered his head and walked away as if nothing had happened now. It would have been nice to stop him. But you were still standing still.

Now.

Daryl was sitting on a log outside his and Merle’s tent on the outskirts of the rest of the camp. He was cleaning squirrel blood off his arrows and hunting knife. Well, thanks to him, the camp wasn’t starving. Lottie and Sophia didn’t like eating something cute like squirrels, but there’s no choice. And while you weren’t thrilled about it either, better squirrels than the inedible berries you and Lottie had been poisoned with before you got to camp at the quarry. It was… unpleasant. You almost silently approached his “Dixon den,” as Shane called the tent of the brothers who preferred to stay away from the main group. But for an experienced hunter and tracker like Daryl, it wasn't hard to hear the branches crunching under your feet. Of course he noticed. Daryl turned toward you, where you froze for a moment between the bushes and snorted.

“What do you want, girl?” he asked, staring again at the dirty arrow in his hand..

“Hey,” you smiled shyly and moved a little closer, not noticing the vehement protest on his part. “Am I interrupting you?”

“If I tell you what you’re doing, will you leave?” Daryl didn’t look away from his work, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know…I guess?” you shrugged uncertainly. You didn’t want to annoy him, but you had promised something to your little sister. And yourself too.

“So what do you want? A chat? That’s not for me,” Daryl shook his head.

“I wanted to ask you for help to be honest,” you pursed your lips as you always did when you felt uncomfortable.

“Try it,?” Daryl finally lifted the piercing gaze of his gray-blue eyes to you and you felt even more uncomfortable.

“Take me with you on your next hunt,” you blurted out, deciding it wasn’t worth beating around the bush. Not with Daryl Dixon.

“No,” he answered immediately and went back to cleaning his weapon.

“Daryl, please,” you insisted. Not that you expected him to answer any differently. “I need to learn at least the basics of wilderness survival. You probably remember the state you found me and Lottie in in the woods…I can’t let that happen again.”

“Why? You’ve warmed up to a camp with people who can handle weapons. Just stay close to them,” Daryl snorted.

“I’m not stupid, Daryl, I realize this isn’t forever and sooner or later we’re all going to have to separate. When that happens, there’s no one to protect Lottie but me,” you sounded more determined than usual. Of course, it took a few days to pull myself together. “So I’m asking you to help me. Teach me how to track prey and how to tell poisonous plants from edible ones. Please.”

“Look, you’re sure of yourself, huh? Coming in here and making demands like I owe you,” Daryl was starting to get annoyed, it was obvious. He didn’t like the way you were being pushy, asking him for something like you had a right.

“I’m not making demands, I’m asking for help,” your confidence began to wane after his words. Daryl didn’t know you well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to call you cocky. Or just at least a little bit of confidence.

“I’ve already helped you out on my own head…I won’t do it again, you’re not a goddamn charity case here,” Daryl chuckled.

“Okay, then what do you want in return?” you asked firmly.

The question wasn’t about your curiosity about wildlife, your life and your little sister’s life depended on you. Your only family. This is not a case where you can afford to back down and give up.

“As if you have anything to offer,” snorted Daryl dismissively.

"What would you want?" you asked, hugging yourself tighter around your shoulders in a protective gesture.

Daryl's right. What the hell could you offer him? In this current world, money has no value. Not that you had a lot of it, but it was the first thing you thought of out of habit. Then what? Daryl is an excellent hunter who has all the necessary survival skills and is good with a gun. That's why you asked him for help and not anyone else. Shane could teach you how to shoot, which would undoubtedly be very useful in the current circumstances, but it's not enough to survive in the woods without a group. Not without someone like Daryl, who is as well adapted to life in the wilderness as you could tell from a week of knowing him.

Back to the question, what could you offer him? What would Daryl Dixon want?

"I want you to talk less and get back on your own," Daryl squinted looking at you for a few seconds and then lowered his head again. The conversation wasn't going well.

"Why did you save me and my sister in the forest? Why did you bring me here? We might live a little longer being in a group, but when this is all over, we're both going to be eaten, so why did you have to build up to this moment?"

Daryl was silent. Like that day a week ago before he brought you to camp. Really, why did he do that? He felt sorry for Lottie. A dirty little girl, messed up to death. You didn't look like you really tried to save her during the walker attack and Daryl wondered why. How scared were you? Didn't believe in your own strength? Did you want to die? He didn't know. But he knew for sure he wasn't going to let a child be eaten alive by a rotting reanimated corpse. Not in this world. Would Daryl have helped you if you were alone in the woods? He wasn't sure. You seemed resigned to your situation and didn't try to escape, so why would he rescue you?

He already did anyway. And dragged you both to the camp. And then that same night he had a fight with Shane, who wasn't sure about the idea of leaving you here. And he got a good laugh from Merle, who thought he was being too kind to someone in the Dixon family. But you don't need to know that. You're lucky it was Daryl and not Merle who came across you in the woods. You'd be wandering around the woods now, rotting from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to eat anything alive. Just like your sister.

"Your sister needed a place and I helped you, that's the whole story," Daryl only nodded his shoulder.

"Why?" you persisted.

"Damn it, girl, what are you babbling about! I helped you, who cares why?" Daryl frowned and abruptly stood up from his seat in a flash of anger.

"I just..." you cringed at his loud tone and backed away slightly.

"Stop bugging me with this, okay? I saved you and your little girl, that's it! That's all you're gonna get from me, you understand? I don't want to teach you anything, I don't need you, save yourself!" Daryl waved his hand, yelling at you and you didn't even realize why you pissed him off so easily.

You looked at him frowning in incomprehension. Why the hell is he yelling at you for no good reason? And looking so angry, like you'd done something terrible to him. You didn't understand Daryl Dixon and his mood swings. That's why you tried to stay away from him, especially the first couple days. You were grateful to him for saving you, but he didn't seem like someone you'd easily connect with. And Daryl had just proven that to you again. You only came to him with the request because no one else could handle it but him. But apparently he's really not interested in this at all. You didn't want to and couldn't force him. You just hoped that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as rude and aloof as he seemed at first glance. After all, he wouldn't have saved you if he was the way he showed himself to others. You'd just have to find a way to approach him and then maybe something would work. But now you weren't so sure.

"Well?! Don't look at me like that, get out of here!" he shouted one last time, turning away from you.

You snorted disappointedly, and after staring at his back for a few seconds, you turned around and hurried back to camp. You were mad at Daryl, that was for sure. Just like Lottie was mad at Carl, but you had a better reason than a handful of nuts. And you might have wanted to yell back at him, but not that it made sense. You'd learned to control your negative emotions a long time ago, and you weren't about to let years of self-discipline go down the drain because of Daryl Dixon. That's on him. Maybe you'll try again later when you've both cooled down, but definitely not in the next few days.

Daryl was difficult, but you have to find an approach to him. Not for your own sake. Certainly not for him. For Lottie. For the chance to prolong her life as long as you could.

Then.

“Hey!” you followed the stranger after a few moments of daze.

You almost lost sight of him, but he wasn’t trying to be quiet, and you could still hear the sound of his footsteps on the leaves on the ground. So as soon as your body began to obey you again, you followed him, holding Lottie’s hand tightly in yours. The man didn’t stop no matter how many times you called out to him. How rude. But in the present world, one didn’t think much of it. And you didn’t know him, but he wasn’t exactly friendly before the end of the world. And yet, you stopped the man from grabbing his wrist when you caught up with him. He turned around and looked at you with a frown, immediately pulling his hand from your barely perceptible grip with force. You seemed to have hit something wrong.

“Thank you,” was the first thing you said when he finally paid attention to you.

“Forget it,” wheezed the man with the familiar Southern accent you never got in the ten years you’d lived in Georgia.

“What’s your name?” you persisted.

“Go where you’re going,” the man snorted and turned away again to walk away.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” you said before he could get a few steps away from you and Lottie, “I…I mean we have nowhere else to go.”

The man stopped for a moment without turning around, as if thinking about something.

“Do you live somewhere? Somewhere with people? You’re the first person I’ve seen in a week…I mean of living people,” you stared at his back without stopping to speak.

Hope flared in you. If there are still people alive, then you and Lottie have a chance.

But the man didn’t answer, only turned to glance at you. Your tangled hair, tied back in a low ponytail, your dirty knit sweatshirt over your once-white T-shirt, your mid-thigh jean shorts that were also dirty and torn on the side of your left leg, your broken knees with blood on them, your worn and dirty yellow sneakers. He looked at the little girl next to you. She had big eyes like yours. And while yours looked at him with weariness and a mute request you still hadn’t spoken aloud, hers were full of fear. Her long hair, braided into two pigtails, was also disheveled, and twigs and dry leaves were sticking out of it from the fact that she had been on the ground under the walker that had tried to eat her. Her denim overalls were stained with the rotting blood of the living dead, and the hood of the sweatshirt she wore over the rest of her clothes was now torn off. There was only one rubber boot on the girl’s feet, the other having come off in the process of escaping from the walkers. The man thought it must be very uncomfortable to run around in rubber boots. The girl held your hand and appeared behind your back, gingerly looking at her savior.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” said Lottie quietly, pressing her cheek against your hand.

Y/N. The man mistook you for this girl’s mom. A very young mom. But it seems that wasn’t the case. Although the two of you had enough outward similarities to think you were related to each other.

“Do you have a place to stay? Please…we’ve been walking through the woods for three days without food or water,” you asked quietly.

The man looked at you with a piercing stare and was still silent. But he didn’t stay silent for long.

“Please,” Lottie said even more quietly, looking out at him from behind you. And then he gave up.

How could he refuse to help a little hungry girl in one rubber boot.

“Follow me,” he said, looking into your eyes for a second, and then turned and walked on, expecting the two of you to follow him.

Of course you both did. Now the hope in your heart is much brighter.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd fanfiction

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lavend-ler · 7 months ago

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BORDERLANDS: DEBT OR ALIVE BOOK REVIEW

I have read the new Borderlands book Debt Or Alive. I did not like it. In fact, I hated it so much I needed to pour out my thoughts in this review. It’ll be very long, so bear this in mind while reading through it because it’s been a while since a piece of media has made me this angry.

There will be spoilers to ALL of the book so you’ve been warned. I am going to analyze this book very thoroughly so everything that can be spoiled will be spoiled.

TL;DR – I hated this book. I accept Borderlands 3, I think it’s fine and I really like aspects of it. I wasn’t enthusiastic about New Tales From The Borderlands but in the end, I thought it was fine. But Debt Or Alive? It’s probably the only piece of Borderlands media that I won’t consider canon from this point forward. Half-assed story with shallow characters and ham-fisted message which retroactively ruins the events of the game(s). Don’t buy it, don’t waste your time on this just to see the worst version of characters you love.

A more detailed review will be under the cut. It’s over 10k long.

1. Tales From The Borderlands made even worse

I have a complicated relationship with Tales From The Borderlands. I think my best friend had put it in the best way – Tales From The Borderlands is good when you don’t think about it for too long. For me, it’s a fun game to play once every 4 years, remember the story and move on. The more you think about it, the more apparent the cracks get and the worse it becomes.

Debt Or Alive REALLY makes you think about Tales From The Borderlands in the worst way possible.

I have always thought that Fiona’s part of the story is weaker than Rhys’. It’s told in a way that sort of meanders until it’s reached its conclusion. The first sin Debt Or Alive commits is that the ending of Tales is its beginning. What should be the conclusion, the nice ribbon to tie the story is now the jumping off point. In my opinion, it’s always a terrible narrative decision to make your sequel start where the story left off. It always implies the fact that your conclusion is meaningless and that your characters didn’t learn anything. To write a new story, you need more challenges which also means that characters need new struggles. In Debt Or Alive’s case, it means that everything that happened in Tales isn’t worth a thing.

To me, nothing was more apparent of it here than the Vault scene. The Vault of the Traveler grants a wish to everyone who steps there. The Vault should be the conclusion to what we know of the characters and sort of “off screen” this happens to Rhys. We see Fiona hear that Rhys wishes for Atlas and that’s the end of his story in Tales. Though I will touch upon why I didn’t like this later, it does make narrative sense, he was supposed to be more independent and choose his own path instead of following others. It’s a ribbon that ties to his character in Borderlands 3 and New Tales From The Borderlands.

Then it’s time for Fiona and… Oh, yeah. What would SHE wish for? Throughout Tales, we see Fiona evolve as a character from the ragged con-artist who wishes to just go by, to the independent and certain Vault Hunter. Or do we? Yes, there is a moment in which Sasha dies which would be traumatic for Fiona but she’s from Pandora. She should know the dangers of living and instead, she should be happy that she came back as the hero. In the ending of Tales, we can hear Fiona say “This [Vault hunting] life…suits me” so she already reconciled the danger and in fact, she welcomes it. But to make this half-assed story be a thing, we have to disregard this entirely.

So in the Vault, Fiona is given a chance to wish for anything she wants. What does she wish for? Nothing, actually. Presented with an opportunity of a lifetime, Fiona has no idea what to wish for. I can’t even begin to tell you how bad of either an opener or an ending this is for her character. For an opener, we have a protagonist who doesn’t know what she wants and where she needs to go. Sure, it’s a start for an arc but not for Fiona who already DID have it. It’s an arc she had earned, so why would she have a restart and go through this all over again? And as an ending, it’s a terrible reminder that Fiona probably didn’t learn a thing. The time in the Vault was for nothing, Athena didn’t teach her anything. Burch doesn’t know his character well enough to think of anything for her to wish for.

Hence the whole journey moving forward truly is just a bad rehash. If Fiona didn’t learn a thing about herself and needs to do it again but worse, what’s the point of this story? To see her come to the same conclusion as she did at the end of Tales but worse? The answer is yes. As this story suggests Fiona is a protagonist who doesn’t know what to do with her life and just wants to protect her sister and that’s all. Which is the exact same point her character was at, at the beginning of Tales.

Actually, why did the Vault have to grant wishes, anyway? It doesn’t make sense for neither Fiona nor Rhys and even later, Gaige cements that this didn’t have to be the case. Part of the charm which Tales From The Borderlands brought was the story of everyday people. This wasn’t a story of glorious Vault Hunters with great stamina and luck, who chose the adventure for the guns and glory. This was a story of a middle manager and a con artist, two unremarkable people who were basically forced onto this adventure from outside forces and because of their will became heroes of their own stories. It’s a story of normal people who have made their own self-made destiny.

Debt Or Alive, of course, scoffs at this idea. Rhys’ Vault wish for Atlas makes no sense as he already has Atlas and already probably works under this trademark. It doesn’t mean a thing that he wishes for the whole legal action thing, when his character progression to have Atlas from Jack would be so good. But no, it’s cosmic power that grants him that wish fully. Fiona too, she was supposed to be a self-made Vault Hunter but in the end (or the beginning), she rejects this and doesn’t know what to wish for. Just an absolutely horrible way of planning out her character. No one wants a passive character and this is what this story makes Fiona to be – a bystander, rather than an igniter.

I also want to point out that the events of Tales and characters she meets are truly nothing but cameos. A big part of Fiona’s story was gaining independence when her father figure Felix turned out to be a snake who sold them out. Within Tales, it’s very clear that Felix was abusive towards Fiona and Sasha, forcing them into roles they didn’t want, favoring Fiona and making them live such a strict life, they thought it was the best they could get. Of course, none of this is ever touched upon in Debt Or Alive. It’s never mentioned that Fiona is an abuse survivor and how it would shape her as a person with her protectiveness and willingness to give up greatness for simply “good enough”, and being held to impossible standards. There are also barely any mentions of Athena and their time together. At no point does Fiona use tactics she had learnt from Athena or recounts their time. Those are passive mentions which make Fiona look like she didn’t learn a thing.

My own ribbon that ties this section will be the funniest thing that for me exposes how much Tales is made worse. Tales From The Borderlands is a game in which choices DO NOT matter. There are no consequences and each choice will yield the same outcome. Again, it’s just meaningless and it’s so funny to me that this book wants to wink at the audience becoming a “choose your own adventure” book in two sections, which both lead to the same result. It truly does not mean a thing.

2. Anthony Burch cannot write women and Fiona’s character assassination

Anthony Burch cannot write women. This is a fact that I wanna point out every single time I can because it was never more apparent to me than in this book. Let’s start with women in Borderlands and the stories which he had written for them. Maya has a good theme but falls flat when she’s only an object for Kreig to lust over. Nisha is Burch’s sexual fantasies coming true in a gross way. Athena in Tales is made only stone cold, no-fun character who is a liar to someone who loves. Janey in Tales is made to be an overbearing girlfriend trope but it’s progressive because she’s a lesbian. Vallory is a collection of tropes. So on and so forth.

Hence right from the beginning, I was very skeptical of a book by Burch which will have the most female-driven cast in all of Borderlands. My skepticism was proved not only to be right but also that it was much worse than I had realized. Because I haven’t even shown you the issues of Fiona and Sasha and trust me, there are some even in Tales. However from Tales I could very easily tell you what character traits Fiona and Sasha have and what differentiated them.

Fiona, as described in Tales promotional material is a con-artist with a heart of gold. She has been raised on streets, she loves money and she has a silver tongue to get out of every situation she’s in. Fiona also cares about those she loves a lot, as an older sister she can get overbearing but her situation in life made her realize that it’s justifiable. She can also be a nerd, she’s curious and fun, likes to joke around. Sasha is a character who loves danger far more than Fiona. She likes guns and has great knowledge of them, she’s more a doer than a talker. Sasha doesn’t want the con life and longs for something tangible, rather than just be a prize in the books. She also has an inferiority complex, due to Felix’ abuse which she masks with her forwardness and action personality. She shines through when she can do things she loves, becoming headstrong, honest and independent.

Do you really think we’ll get any of this in this book?

The answer is no and it’s very easy to tell it right from the start. I know I keep getting back to the Vault scene but trust me, this is the culprit from which I knew this book will be a failure. In this scene, Fiona doesn’t know what to wish for, so she “wishes” that Sasha was there. This wish is granted and it’s now both sisters in the Vault. From this you can see the issue – this book does not treat Fiona and Sasha as separate characters. They ALWAYS have to be together, always mention each other, they’re basically never given a room to breathe because whenever a scene calls for just Fiona or just Sasha, their internal monologue will keep mentioning the other.

I can’t even really make a case for either of the characters individually because this book itself makes such a bad case with them. I’ll give it my best shot because when these moments occur they are, well, bad. I’ll start with Sasha because I have less to say since the book itself had less to say about her too. There is a certain moment in which Sasha, being tired of Fiona’s carefulness, goes Vault hunting with Gaige. I was very happy at this, since I have shipped Sasha and Gaige before and I thought their personalities would mesh well. Yet, in this particular instance, Sasha isn’t enjoying anything regarding Vault hunting and the danger, while constantly thinking of Fiona. Why is that, why wouldn’t she be thrilled for the adventure and getting to know another person like Gaige more? They could bond and start a friendship but in the end, they barely talk and Sasha isn’t into it. Even guns don’t excite her that much. What happened to her?

I think even her reflections towards life after death are very much shallow and omitted. We get a sense of it, we get that Sasha is terrified that there’s nothing when she dies but we’re not given anything of it. I figured this would be her turning point, that Sasha will realize that if there’s nothing afterwards, it’s best to live her life to the fullest, going on adventures, not wasting chances. But nothing like this has happened. Sasha doesn’t enjoy Vault hunting, she shrugs at guns, she can’t have her own fulfillments, her relationship with Rhys is wishy-washy. You’d think that with sudden realization of death, Sasha would have a breaking point and start thinking if it’s all worth it and how her life should now be like. But that would require interesting philosophical questions that Burch doesn’t want to answer. Not when they lose the life-giving crystal, nor when Sasha dies a second time when she chooses to. It’d be such an interesting discussion of the meaning of life, how Sasha approaches life and what it all means to her but no. Not given any thought to this. At the end it’s not even unique to her as Fiona dies and is brought to life too so again, no point.

Another faucet to her character is the on and off relationship with Rhys and just… I was never a fan of shipping Sasha and Rhys together and this book reminded me of it in the worst possible way. Sasha is disinterested with Rhys’ world and they never mesh well together, having such different goals in life. She doesn’t even want to acknowledge their relationship, leaving Rhys to look like a sad wet sock (more on that later). It’s described how she’s used to acting a certain way and that’s fair, that’s a huge roadblock in a relationship. But we never see this roadblock get pushed. Sasha at the end of the book is still terrified of the potential relationship and doesn’t want this. We only learn that one time she calls him her boyfriend off screen, which is just such a cop out I can’t begin to describe it. I’m so sorry, Sasha, you deserve an actual relationship not just Burch’s fantasies.

So I move to the main character of the story, Fiona. And oh god, how badly has Burch treated Fiona, words cannot describe it but they will try. From the beginning, we see one of Fiona’s traits be amped up to 11 – her protectiveness which turns into overbearingness. Constantly, we are reminded that Sasha died and Fiona can’t forgive herself. Which is fair but again… We saw her happy and fulfilled at the end of Tales. But since Tales doesn’t matter and probably it’s better if it didn’t exist, it gets shrugged off. May I remind you, this book starts right as Tales ended. Which is a year later from the start. Which means Fiona is 30 and Sasha is 25. Their actions do not portray two characters of this age, especially Fiona’s towards Sasha’s.

Look, I’m 24 and I have a sister who’s 33, so close-ish range to them. If my sister would do the things that Fiona did to Sasha I would be pissed off as all hell because guess what, my adult sister does consider me an adult woman. Unlike apparently Fiona and Sasha. Because for Sasha’s “safety” Fiona puts her into a fucking jail on a planet they do not know, just towards her “safety”. Yes, it’s regarded as dumb and wrong in the book and that Fiona knows that Sasha would pull through but it’s just mind boggling to me that Fiona would even do that. She should know her sister. But then throughout the book we see Fiona acting like know all be all authority to her, constantly second guessing her actions and opinions and being completely overbearing. I’m sorry but her apology at the end doesn’t make it remotely okay to be so controlling of Sasha.

I guess that’s the point. In my opinion, this book is a character assassination for Fiona. People will whine and moan over how Rhys got ruined in Borderlands 3 and New Tales but no, I had and will always disagree with this. But Fiona in Debt Or Alive? Burch truly showed how he has no clue how to write female characters because she is completely ruined here. None of her actions make sense, neither do her choices, the little character she has is so unlikeable and I just can’t believe he thought it was all good.

The best way to show you how Fiona got ruined is to have a little overview of Fiona as a character before and her background. She is a Pandoran, born and “raised” there, through the life of crime and bribery. Her biological parents died, she only has Sasha with her. Thus she feels responsible for her and their wellbeing. Fiona also had Felix, a man who brought her and Sasha with him and raised them in a very abusive manner. Fiona all her life had lived in poverty, struggling to get by with her cons, constantly having Felix make her think she’s responsible for the failures or successes of the group all on her own. She lived in a caravan, she barely had any money to her name. She’s no stranger to the climate and cruelty of Pandora, having lived there all her life, though she herself prefers the “word” combat.

Got it? Well, now forget it because that’s what Burch did in his book.

I know that wealth can change people, I really do and the sum of money Fiona and Sasha received is enormous. What I don’t understand is that they both did a complete 180 on their perspectives. I do realize that living in poverty all their life, Fiona would start spending money on dumb things but to hammer home this fact, Burch tries really hard to show us how dumb some of the purchases are. But would she really act like this in this setting? First, it’s hard for me to believe that she would willingly move to Eden-5, seeing the corrupted system and life in which it operates. It’s just Pandora but with chrome paint on it. Yet, Fiona doesn’t see red flags and just continues on living, buying dumb shit. We don’t learn anything new about her through this either, it’s just a dumb thing after dumb thing. Why couldn’t it start with things that she really wanted and then move on to unnecessary things? I think it’s because Burch couldn’t even establish what her wishes would be from Pandoran times.

What also made me just want to throw this book away was that it took Fiona around 200 pages to realize that people who work for her are also bound by debt. It’s such a nearsighted thing, I cannot believe that she would do it. Especially since I think we’re led to believe that this book happened in the span of 4-5 years. For Fiona to be this bound by greed and wealth doesn’t fit her character at all. How could she just not see that people who work for her have been tortured by poverty? Up until this point, Fiona lived in poverty herself, she should KNOW that this is a thing people struggle with. Not to mention, in the book there are talks about how people have multiple debt cuffs on them. It’s unacceptable that Fiona wouldn’t care about those who were beneath her. And if she really did, do you think this makes her character any more likable? And do you think that her turn around is a moment of triumph when we’re led to believe she ignored those people for YEARS?

I think the story itself just makes you shrivel at one moment in particular. Fiona purchases a sapphire kitten, which shatters. Classic Borderlands humor, right? This moment truly disturbed me but not in a way that Burch wanted but for the implications. Fiona spends money on bullshit she doesn’t want just to have it. Who else spent money on unneeded bullshit just to show wealth? Handsome Jack. And when you’re comparing your hero to the most vile villain from the series, I don’t think it’s a good sign. Especially since in canon Handsome Jack loved and cared for Butt Stallion. Unlike Fiona.

Even the breaking point moment of Fiona, the destruction of Rustville, felt shallow. Reading this, I couldn’t help but to go back to the moment of Helios’ destruction in Tales. It was such an incredible moment for Rhys, seeing the destruction of a place that was close to him, death of people who he knew and respected. And seeing this “reprise” of sorts with Fiona just felt shallow. At this point, Fiona was in Rustville around 3 times if I can recall? She met people but didn’t form any meaningful relationships (because Burch doesn’t want either of the sisters to have meaningful relationships besides each other) or got to know anyone better. These were all one off interactions with random people. Unlike Rhys, it wasn’t Fiona’s choice to destroy Rustville. It was only an act that she maybe sort of allowed to happen but it was an action of one rich woman. Fiona had no agency in her actions, there was nothing she could’ve done to neither prevent it nor cause it. Thirdly, Fiona is a Pandoran. She should know the carnage, death and destruction, as it is ingrained in Pandora’s system and society. For her to act so devastated and shocked, it simply doesn’t make sense.

Another thing is that this story really dumbs Fiona down, to the points that I couldn’t comprehend how dumb she was. She goes alone to Tetanus Wilds, even if with Sasha she’d have more chances. Especially since she was going to Gaige’s stash and let’s be real – Sasha knows guns, Fiona does not. Fiona goes to destroy Rustville without any weapons and without any protection which of course results in her basically getting killed. Fiona takes a leap of faith thinking she’d die in the ditch but forgets that Deathtrap can fly and catch her. How would she forget if she was tinkering with him before? The same way she’d forget her weapons it seems.

I also wanted to mention how it always made sense to me that Fiona and Sasha would have a falling out in some part of the story, so both of the sisters would become independent and chase their own destinies. It would require Burch to stop thinking of them as a singular character, which does not happen. This part in particular made me especially angry. A skilled writer would make Fiona’s overbearingness and constant promises to be a start of Sasha realizing she needs to live her own life, Fiona as well. Anthony Burch is not a skilled writer so nothing of such happens.

Within Debt Or Alive we don’t learn anything new regarding neither Fiona nor Sasha. We are spoon fed information that we already know, seeing characters we love either devolve to their pre-Tales state or make terrible, nonsensical decisions. There are no moments in which either of the sisters can breathe on their own. They are thrown into situations where something just has to happen. Thus, we don’t learn anything about them as people.

I also want to point out that the writing of Gaige is fine. I’ll talk more about this later but she truly was fine and I didn’t see issues with how her character was carried. Granted, I think it’s very hard to screw up writing Gaige but it’s Burch, he can do it all. I’m still sad that she’s a lonely outcast like in Borderlands 3 but in general, I didn’t have issues with either her writing or the story.

3. There will never be another Handsome Jack and the death of a good villain

Some of you have already started to roll your eyes at the mention of Handsome Jack but trust me, I have a point here to make. Whenever you hear people talk about Handsome Jack a special kind of sentence emerges – a villain you love to hate. I think this sentence is a great guide to creating your villain so that they’re impactful, fit the story, be likable enough to want to be with them but you’re happy when you get to kill them. And nothing made me feel like it’s a craft long gone than reading Debt Or Alive.

Countess Holloway is a nothing villain. She truly doesn’t represent anything and I can’t tell you anything of what she is as a person. Actually, it can boil down to one sentence – she’s rich and she’s evil. That’s all there is to her character but I guess it goes to show that even then, Burch cannot write women.

Going a little deeper, we gotta discuss the parts that make a good villain. I’m sorry for the comparisons to Handsome Jack but we really need to talk about what makes him great and what makes Holloway shallow.

On the surface level, the points are there. A villain needs to be connected to your heroes in a specific way, having an impact on their lives. Holloway does meet that quota, as she’s not only the motor for this story but also is actually the reason why Fiona and Sasha got rich in the first place. She is a vain person, who loves to live for shallow things and doesn’t care about the rest. From this point of view, we could think that Holloway serves as a reminder to Fiona and Sasha of “be careful who you can become” but neither of them have this revelation. Throughout the story, Fiona and Sasha basically do turn into Holloway, yet nothing of it is neither stated nor explored. It’s not a revelation that characters have, it’s what we think when we connect the dots.

When we start to think more, it all begins to fall apart. The key thing that lacks here is motivation. Looking back at Handsome Jack, it was clear how his goals were stated – he was a nobody who became somebody by his charisma and cunning ways. Now he projects his awful world views on others and it’s your job to stop him. There’s also the fact that his daughter Angel works for him and killing her for Jack is the breaking point. You see him be cruel, vain and abusive but you see his more “human” side that does not excuse his actions (I am looking away from Tales) but makes you understand how much of a terrible person he is and how he deserves to die. It’s effective and fantastic storytelling and his personality makes you want to be around him, even if he’s an awful person who deserves to die.

Let’s go back to Holloway and examine her as I described the traits of a good villain via Jack. Holloway’s motivation is that 7 years ago Gaige murdered her daughter Marcie and now she wants revenge on her. This is already a problem, as this is a passive goal. Holloway is presented as an arrogant woman who doesn’t like to get her hands dirty, hence she can’t kill Gaige on her own. Understandable but also she doesn’t seem very interested in it anyway? She wants to kill Gaige but passively. There’s a bounty on Gaige but Holloway doesn’t have a squad to look after her. Wouldn’t it be more interesting if Holloway had people looking for Gaige and when they die she swiftly replaces them with another one? It would be active but instead we’re presented this information as “well, maybe Gaige dies or maybe she doesn’t, idk, it’s alright either way”.

Another point is that Holloway is a very shallow character. In general, yes but in her actions too. What do we really know about her? She is rich, vain, vengeful, powerful and likes to spend money on frivolous things. Sure but that’s so basic you could tell this about so many other villains it wouldn’t make a difference. There is nothing in her nor in her behavior that would be an indicator of any interesting persona or character. Holloway just exists and we’re told that she’s evil. Wonderful character writing, gotta say.

We’re introduced to Countess Holloway in a way that she is the potential buyer of the Typhon DeLeon Vaultlander figure. Why would she want this? We’re not told nor shown. Thinking of it logically, we could say that it’s supposed to show us that Holloway likes to spend money on whatever bullshit she wants, which is fair. But wouldn’t it make it more sense if after the death of her child, Holloway became obsessed with Vault Hunters, knowing the murderer of her child became one? How did she start researching stories of Vault Hunters and think about how much she hates them, which would lead to her gaining knowledge? This way, Holloway could’ve been prepared for the attacks of Vault Hunters and Vault Hunter wannabes, since she would predict it all. Or even set a lure with a promise of amazing loot. Nothing like this happens.

Even the death of Marcie isn’t exactly a driving point to Holloway. When Angel dies in Borderlands 2, you see the impact it has on Handsome Jack. You know he’s an abusive parent yet even within this, he still acts as sort of father of the year type and constantly manipulates you, saying this is your fault. For Holloway, it seemed that the death of her child just happened and yeah, she’s pissed but you know, things happen. She doesn’t mention who Marcie was, even in her shallow understanding of it. It could’ve made a very interesting character bit where she would tell lies about Marcie, as she was more of a commodity to and of Holloway than anything else. Instead, Marcie’s death isn’t really a drive for Holloway, it’s just a thing that happened and she’s kinda bummed about this.

Is Holloway an imposing force, a ticking clock of sorts? No, she is not. We’re told that during all their stay on Eden-5 (again, around 4 or 5 years), Fiona and Sasha are neighbors with Holloway and nothing is done with it. They’re not anxious that she could strike at any moment or that she could catch Gaige. They don’t care about Gaige actually. That’s why Holloway makes a very poor villain in the imposing sense. There’s no impact of hers and her power felt throughout the book, when Fiona and Sasha can happily live next to her and nothing happens.

The only interesting display of her power is during the gala at Fiona and Sasha’s place, where Holloway shows that she can very easily change the whole Elite’s perspectives regarding the sisters. Yes, it’s a good moment for Holloway but it also truly makes me think how shallow she is as a character. First, the fact that Fiona fell for the Claptrap Vaultlander is another testament of how dumbed down she was. Burch, you made a whole joke about how Claptrap sucks at the beginning and how Fiona hates him, the least you could do was to think that she’d immediately throw this away (especially since you’ve established that Fiona is frivolous with her possessions now).

Second, it’s such a bait and switch moment for Holloway and the whole Elite. I get what it was trying to accomplish, it was for us to see that the Elites are stupid and will follow anyone as it goes. But wouldn’t it be better that out of her hatred for Fiona and Sasha she would work behind the scenes, telling other Elites how they are just stupid Pandorans who can’t achieve anything? It could’ve been a carefully plotted plan with instances that the blackmail was happening hinted at throughout the story but that would require the time when Fiona and Sasha spent on Eden-5 to mean something (it does not) and Holloway to have an ounce of personality and planning skills (she does not).

Another thing that Holloway for me lacks is the backstory. To create a good villain you must make us believe that they had a reason to do all that so we can hate them even more. I think in general, Borderlands does a great job with this, with Knoxx, Handsome Jack, of course, Colonel Zarpedon and the twins. But Holloway? We do not know anything about Holloway’s life. It was probably done so the billionaire character is just a shallow representation of this world but it makes for a very boring and one note character. We don’t know how she got this money, if she lived all her life like this and hates outsiders who she thinks are unworthy of this. Or is it a thing she got later in life thus is so cutthroat about this because she doesn’t wanna go back to poverty. No, you just get a one note shallow villain with no motivation and nothing to play off of.

Even her death is such a nothing death too. Throughout the book we see everyone trying to get at her and eliminate her and not succeed. It’s why Gaige is here, it’s a whole moral dilemma for Fiona and Sasha to grasp upon. As much as Holloway is baiting them to do this but calling them cowards and the sisters just lamenting over how they should’ve done this, you’d think Holloway would get her way. Possibly being quite literally torn to shreds by the sisters, Gaige and the poor people of Eden-5. I mean, it’s Borderlands, deaths like these could happen! But no, she just falls to her death. Even Gaige didn’t deserve to get a shot at her, it seems.

4. The themes of why all billionaires deserve to die or lack therefore of

In a now deleted tweet, Anthony Burch describes Debt Or Alive as a book about how “all billionaires deserve to die”. Why he had deleted this, I have no idea and I’m not here to speculate. However, I did not forget this tweet and throughout reading Debt Or Alive I kept reminding myself of itt. It should be the credo of this book, right? Or at least it once was. That is why, I wanted to simply sit down and speculate, what does this tweet actually mean for the themes of this book.

(This screen isn’t mine, I didn’t get to screenshot it when it was up)

I am a leftist, my politics are very much so on the left. My expertise lies in environmental issues and I know less about socio-economics but it’s fine because it seems that Anthony Burch himself doesn’t know much about this. Hence while reading Debt Or Alive, I asked myself the same question over and over. Let’s say I’m a person who likes Borderlands, likes Fiona and Sasha, isn’t too involved in politics and now I read Debt Or Alive – will this book convince me to learn more of the theory or think that all billionaires should die? In a way yes but in none of the right meaning of such speculations.

On the planet of Eden-5, it seems that life is determined by money and social status. Even the smallest crimes (or rather inconveniences towards the wealthy) will result in you getting a debt cuff. The imagery is already very ham-fisted but let’s go forward with this idea. What are the debt cuffs? I can’t really tell you how they work. While reading I couldn’t have deduced how exactly they operate with that premise.

First thing is that a person can have multiple debt cuffs but it is never specified if the cuffs ever reach their limit in amount of money on it. As we see Fiona and Sasha get their cuffs and then we learnt you can get multiple, it truly got me thinking – how is that possible? How is it possible to get another, if the screens are digital (and they are described to be digital) how can they reach the limit and be forced to get another? In a highly technological society like Borderlands, nonetheless? How are the body parts chosen for this process? Fiona gets one on her ankle (I think, either this or arm, I forgot) but Sasha gets one on her neck. There are people who have so many cuffs they can’t walk anymore. How can they have so many?

Truth be told, we won’t learn anything about the cuffs or how people operate with them. We simply know they are very common and every citizen of Rustville is described to wear one. Even children, in an incredibly not subtle way, are described to wear “debt cuffs 4 kidz!”. We’re told the cuffs are very heavy but people live with them. We won’t learn who manufactures them, who is in charge of the law to give them away. We’re not even told about the ones who have paid their debt without help from Fiona and Sasha.

The moment when the book takes us to debt prison and the guard says there are some prisoners who can’t even walk because of their cuffs, I realized what these truly were. The cuffs were nothing but the least subtle visualization for us for the statuses of Eden-5 citizens. A literal ball and chain to be exact. For me it just serves as a very ham-fisted metaphor for what could’ve been an interesting concept. We could’ve seen someone pay up their debt but the cuff stays on because the Elites don’t want anyone to be free. We could’ve seen Elites wearing some as a “fashion statement”, mocking the suffering of the lower class. We could’ve seen an Elite who has an actual debt cuff and can’t pay it away, resulting in them hiding it from others. We could’ve had anything but the complete disregard Fiona and Sasha had for their workers and not realizing all of them wear at least one.

For all it’s worth, the book has a very black and white approach towards wealth and money, one that is very unusual for Borderlands. Though we get the usual for Borderlands “everyone is an asshole”, we have such a divide between Rusters and the Elites, it’s hard to mistake it for anything else. Because of this, world building suffers with this incredibly. There are only the poorest people around or the richest people around. There is no nuance or a conversation, there is either this or that. Even Gaige doesn’t offer any insider information towards it, even if she was born and raised there. Nowhere does her very outspoken politics mention the structures and Elites of Eden-5 which she should be completely against. And the fact that she knew Marcie and that she doesn’t wear any debt cuffs that are omnipresent on Eden-5 and the fact that Elites don’t want anything to do with Rusters makes me wonder – is Gaige actually rich? Because everything shows this, and if so, great work, Burch on creating a character whose identity is all over the place.

That was my big issue with showing the problems of wealth and social structures it creates. With no middle class, the conversation lacks another point of view. There are either the wealthiest around or the completely poorest lowest class imaginable. With getting rid of the middle, Burch fails to show us how daily life operates and robs us of the potential conversation. Where are the people who chase wealth and fortune? Where are those who would betray their whole class just to have that taste of top dog life? The only thing we are offered in this conversation are Face and Pick (you don’t have to know anything about them), who want to give Fiona and Sasha away for Holloway, just for the money. But that’s treated as a plot twist, rather than an actual plot point and the siblings already paralleled Fiona and Sasha, so there’s no conversation, just a very shallow shock.

Another point is how the Elites are presented to us. The Elites are the villains, of course and just like billionaires in real life, they aren’t good people. It’s more of how they are presented to us or lack of such presentation. Debt Or Alive doesn’t show us insides to the minds of the Elites because frankly, they don’t have any. I do understand that Burch wanted to show that these are stupid, cruel people, I get it, but even in real life, billionaires are stupid but not necessarily unintelligent.

In the book, we don’t see much of Elites, actually. We see them on the gala Fiona constructed and on Holloway’s gala at the end. At first, they are mindless people who cannot think for themselves. They’re either doing what Fiona wants or what Holloway wants. Secondly, they are quite literally used as meat shields for our heroes to hide behind. So in all senses, they have no personalities, either as a group or individuals. I think the biggest crime is that even in their rich years, Fiona and Sasha don’t interact with the Elites. We could see them be cruel to the lower class citizens, purposefully making them do things that would rank up their debt. We could see them spending money on idiotic things which Fiona and Sasha would point out as dumb. We could even have descriptions of Holloway’s house that are garish and grotesque because she has so much money, she doesn’t know how to spend it anymore.

Truly, the only billionaires whose mind we can read are actually Fiona and Sasha. But for this kind of story, you need a strawman, which is absent. I genuinely thought that Gaige could become their strawman but their relationship is so shallow and so one note I quickly realized it’s impossible. In stories like this, usually when the protagonists become rich and get to make stupid, meaningless purchases, there are already signs that something like this is bad. And though there are plenty of moments in which the girls make stupid choices over their greed, it takes them so damn long to wake up from that dream.

There’s also no critique of overconsumption or consumerism in general. It should be an easy task, regarding how Fiona and Sasha spend their money but though we never see the effects on them, for example throwing away new things or we don’t see the workers (besides that one lady) in such conditions. It’s all a very interesting subject that is brushed away at rich ladies’ boredom. Though we are told that these purchases are stupid, we aren’t given an answer to what they should do instead. And the only point of activism Fiona and Sasha do is to finally free the workers from cuffs. Took them long enough.

I simply can’t understand why this plot even had to involve the sisters, since it truly makes them worse by association. All throughout Tales we hear that Fiona and Sasha hate Hyperion and don’t want anything to do with Rhys. It’s a fair assessment, they’re Pandoran and Hyperion destroyed Pandora as they knew it and is personification of greed. So… Why were they so eager to live a rich and boring life? Was their issue only with Hyperion? Even more so, why were they so hateful regarding Hyperions? For all we know, Rhys is just a simple white collar worker who also gets screwed over by the system, yet they hate him for being part of the system even when it’s to also get by. Reading this story, I had a feeling that Fiona and Sasha simply hated Rhys for being a white collar worker and they had no problems with greed and destruction of lives via riches.

The story also really doesn’t want to take sides in this whole debacle. Fiona and Sasha lose all their money and want to start a revolution, killing all the Elites. This thought isn’t given any time to sink in or develop. At some point, the sisters realize no, we shouldn’t kill the Elites because that is how we’re gonna liberate the people, with their money. But then Gaige tells them they’re wrong? It’s very all over the place and the story really doesn’t want to take sides in this.

That does make me think, what kind of impact will this story even have on both Fiona and Sasha? All in all, it seemed that they didn’t learn anything. They have to be on the run because the Elites want them dead but also they’re still into the riches and spoils of the Vault. Since Rhys is rich now, wouldn’t they not want to associate with him? Or are we gonna play the “not all rich people” card? I love Rhys and I actually like fictional rich people. But while writing a story like this, you have to stick with your principals and make them call out Rhys’ practices, not side with him because he’s one of the good guys. You can’t lead a revolution and then make puppy eyes towards a rich capitalist.

I have left out the discussion of race, because I am white and I feel like this isn’t my place to be talking about this. Don’t listen to me regarding this, listen to people of color. I want to, however, point out that Burch stayed within the racial ambiguity of Fiona and Sasha and their racial identity is not spoken of, while we learn the ethnic identities of two white characters (Gaige and Felix). Not to mention that I can criticize that having two women of color be painted as rich assholes and drawing parallels between Fiona and Handsome Jack who is in canon called a fascist is incredibly insensitive. And within the revolution literally having them be called out on being “outsiders who want to lead revolution that isn’t theirs and they talk over the native people” is so bad I can’t believe Burch thought of this.

All in all, would this book convince me that all billionaires should die? With its heavy-handed metaphors and subtlety equal to a trainwreck, I truly don’t think it would. It’s a mess of themes and missed chances on having actually said something regarding the fact that billionaires should not exist and that they are vapid people who can’t look out for others. The story is just complicated when those people you criticize are also your protagonists, like Fiona and Sasha here.

We could’ve had interesting stories of class struggle and differences. The Elites could’ve been destroying the land, long before that laser hit Rustville. Destruction of land and resources for people to live is one of the oppression strategies real life rich people do. And just like the environmental issues won’t be solved with only everyday people making a change, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make things better. Write better stories with better themes. Maybe it’s just a tie-in novel for a game from 10 years ago but it could’ve said something instead of giving us a caricature of a rich person who spends money on little whale serving dishes.

See how I mentioned my passion for environmental issues at the beginning and it came back here? Set up and pay off. Something this book lacks.

5. Writing not just a better story but A Story in general

I am a writer. Sure, I write fanfiction but that doesn’t disqualify what I’m about to say. Not everyone is a showrunner, you need screenwriters too. What is this book if not officially commissioned fanfiction regarding Fiona and Sasha? When I myself am writing a story to explore, I always ask myself what is my theme, what am I building towards. Every story is fundamentally about change, right? That was why, when I stopped asking myself if I think all billionaires should die, I started asking myself – what did I gain from reading this story? What did the characters gain from this story being told? The answer is actually nothing.

Some of you probably had thought “this is just a tie-in novel to the games, it’s not supposed to be high art” and I agree with this but it is supposed to be art, no matter what. You could’ve said the same thing about the original Tales From The Borderlands, it’s nothing but an addendum to the main stories within the Borderlands. Yet, it moved a lot of people, inspired them, wanted them to create and follow the stories of these characters. For years, I’ve seen people longing for a story of Fiona and Sasha post Tales and this is what we get. Maybe in this regard Debt Or Alive is a high art, since it’s been making me nothing but angry these past couple of days. Or maybe it truly is a nothing piece of art, since at the end of the day, the feelings are just of shallowness.

Coming back to the fact that every story needs change to be worthwhile, I mean it even in the smallest of sense. It doesn’t have to be a huge change, but there has to be one no matter what. After I read Debt Or Alive I realized there was completely no change involved in the process. We start this book with Fiona and Sasha not knowing where they are in life and at the end, they decide to be Vault Hunters. You can say it is a substantial change but think about it like this – it’s the same kind of character arc they’ve had in the original Tales From The Borderlands.

Nothing had changed, they’re still at the same point they were almost 10 years ago when we finished episode 5. What Burch does is a classic shitty storytelling technique of the sequel that is just forgetting everything that had happened before and rehashing the character arc from the first one, just worse. Fiona goes from a self-reassured con-artist to a confident Vault Hunter. Sasha goes from a closed off younger sister to someone with agency. Those are the same kinds of stories we’ve already been told but when there’s no one to bounce off of, you realize that the sisters didn’t need this journey to realize it, they just needed to think for 15 minutes.

There’s also no change to the dynamics between Fiona and Sasha, and every attempt at it is shallow and pointless. At the beginning, we see Fiona being anxious that Sasha literally died before her eyes. Fiona is basically patronizing, Sasha goes Vault hunting but dislikes this, goes back and they make up. There’s no sense of change between them or maturity. I’ve already discussed the sense that their “class consciousness” is meaningless when they at the beginning were lower class. But even between each other, it’s the same song and dance. Fiona is a little overprotective, Sasha wants to show that she’s not just the younger sister. I’ve seen this already, Burch, you’ve told me this in Tales.

It doesn’t help that Fiona and Sasha really are treated constantly as the same entity, so their “changes” just don’t appear. They’re bound by the hip, unable to grow because of their limitations of the relationship. It’s too bad that a story about siblings has to treat them like they can’t exist without each other, when it could be an interesting story about independence. What if Sasha decides that Vault hunting is for her and actually goes away with Gaige? What if Fiona realizes that she’s been too caught up in her sister’s life that she forgot how to live her own? Those are all interesting questions that get tossed off the window, when you realize you have to do Tales but worse.

Just like that, the sisters can’t form any meaningful relationship. Not with the cardboard cutouts of the supporting cast, not with Gaige, there really is nothing. Fiona and Sasha don’t interact with their environment in an interesting way, it’s just a ham-fisted need to show that rich people are bad. Yes, I know they’re bad, I just want to see them discover it on their own. But we get nothing.

You can also argue that Sasha’s story regarding Rhys is just a rehash. As I’ve said, I was never a fan of this couple but I can’t imagine being satisfied with a solution that Burch brings to the table. Through the story, we see Sasha denying her feelings, not being ready for a relationship until Fiona steps in and says “actually, you are or you’re not” and off-screen we see that Sasha decided on their relationship. It’s truly insulting to see the “will they, won’t they” scenario with adult people and solved not before us.

What you have to understand is that this period of life that we’re seeing, with Fiona and Sasha is not a brief period of time. Maybe Burch doesn’t want exact numbers but this is clear when you think about a certain fact – Rhys has a mustache. I’m bringing this up because in Borderlands 3, Lor is actually surprised to see him like this, which means that the Maliwan invasion is well on its way. Which Rhys doesn’t bring up, of course. But deducing from this single comment we can calculate that between the beginning of the book and the ending, 4 or 5 years had happened. That is a damn long time and the fact that during this Fiona and Sasha do not resolve anything, do not develop and only go forth with their very surface level resolution is just a slap in the face.

We finished when we had started – it’s just that Burch doesn’t want you to realize that we had started at the ending. And this itself has consequences that he doesn’t ever want to acknowledge.

6. Show me my silver lining

I think at this point it’s very clear to see that I very much so didn’t enjoy this book. It’s just that I can’t bring myself to give a fully negative review, when there is one thing that I have to actually compliment. That thing is the arc of Gaige and what she’s been through in this book.

How we see Gaige is an actual arc and change of the character. We start with her being petty and bitter, returning to her home planet of Eden-5 for revenge. She wants to kill Holloway for destroying her and especially for the fact that she had imprisoned her father. We see Gaige’s smarts play the role against Fiona and we actually see the unbeatable Vault Hunter lose. Her father died at the prison. She has to hide, plotting her revenge. At the opportunity to bring her father back with the life crystal, she takes it immediately. But when it fails, Gaige is avoidant and quiet. Not wanting to see that she had failed yet again.

What was a terrible point in Fiona’s characterization, the destruction of Rustville, is the moment where Gaige shines through. Being presented with a choice by Holloway, she actually altruistically chooses to get caught, so she won’t hurt anyone. Sure, Holloway doesn’t keep her promise but it’s what Gaige is doing what is important. Instead of her usual snarky demeanor, we see her give up, something she had never done on her own. And in prison we see her still fighting for her life, screaming at the top of her lungs, even if at that point both her father and Deathtrap are gone.

The one genuinely great moment was when at the gala, Gaige gets a chance to open up about her feelings to her ECHOtube (I think that was what it was called?) subscribers. She talks about her love for her dad and how much he meant to her. How she misses him but wants to avenge him and wants him to be proud of her. It’s a very powerful moment, in my opinion, the best in all of the book. Gaige, surrounding herself with cheap thrills and adventures, seeks something that is real and opens up. It’s a beautiful moment of humanity for her that is just lovely to see.

Why she decided to take up the job of a party planner, I have no idea. Even with her explanation it still didn’t mean much to me. Thinking of how sad and once more, avoidant and lonely she ends up in Borderlands 3 does make me feel regret but I wanna hold onto that moment. Of Gaige’s sass and positive spirit, the only thing that made me go through that book.

Also there was a moment in which Rhys admits that he had a voice surgery. Made me go “what the fuck” at first but then I kinda laughed. Nobody needed that but whatever. Also fuck Troy Baker, all my homies hate Troy Baker.

7. Lightning round of criticism

Having said all of that and more about this book, this little section is about criticisms I had but didn’t want to dedicate a whole section to them. It’s just a list of things that bothered me as hell there but that will be shorter to sum up:

- The humor of this book was unbearable. After several of those “jokes” you could very easily predict how the next one would go. It’s one person making a statement, another person contradicting it and then the outcome is a contradiction or first person admitting to the contradiction. Imagine this dry explanation but repeated over and over again and you get at least 40% of the whole dialogue. I don’t think it’s a good thing when you can sum up your entire humor in a descriptions like this

- The new side characters are so paper thin, I cannot tell you anything about them. I can guarantee that if you ask me who they are in a month or two, I simply won’t know. All of them were characterized by a gimmick and not given anything real to do. The sisters, too, don’t have interesting interactions with them. Side characters here exist for cheap scenes that sorta progress the bad plot. In the words of a streamer Oboeshoesgames “Katagawa Jr. What a crazy character. He’s almost as memorable as Chet Smith.”

- The way this book handled Rhys is horrendous. Equated to the kicked puppy who desperately wants Sasha’s attention, constantly described as stupid and worthless and then acting like a teenager when he’s pushing 30. I don’t think Borderlands 3 ruined Rhys. I don’t think New Tales ruined Rhys. But this? This is the worst written Rhys I’ve seen in years

- Speaking of, Burch trying his damn hardest to write as if he’s a gen z person throws out words that make him look like Steve Buscemi “how do you do fellow kids” moment. In one moment, he even calls Rhys a himbo. Burch, do you know what words even mean

- The narration style suffers from “tell don’t show”. Look at this example, here. Not only is this just flat out bad writing, we don’t need to be told three different times how badly Holloway treats people. A good writer would just show it to us via her actions towards her staff and juxtapose it with how Fiona treats her staff but of course, none of this happens

- Being a video game writer, Burch doesn’t know how to progress a story. For him, the more important things are side quests and instant gratifications, not real emotional bits. The story rushes to the next point and leaves no room for you to breathe. You can’t spend time with those characters, you can’t learn anything new because you have to do another thing

- Maybe that’s just me but I hate the non descriptive narration style. The world of Eden-5 feels shallow and pointless because the sisters don’t explore it and we don’t get any descriptions of it. Those are just empty phrases of wealth and dirt and nothing else

- Last but certainly not least, I gotta ask, what the hell was Burch thinking with making this healing watch be the same thing as the healing crystal from New Tales? I always hated the deus ex machina of the watch but here it just had gotten ridiculous. It makes no sense, it’s a contrived way to bring it together. How does it connect? We never know, it is never explored. Maybe in Borderlands 50 or something

8. Conclusion

I hated this book. I wish I could’ve said something more profound but sometimes being direct is better – I truly hated this book and I won’t consider this canon to the Borderlands storyline. You can take my word that the canon won’t acknowledge it either. It’s a shallow cash grab directed at people who love Fiona and Sasha, engineered to be as meaningless as it could be and not to say anything either about its themes or its characters. It’s not a character study. It’s not a jumping off point for meaningful class structures and struggles discussion. It’s not even a fun popcorn adventure for fans of the series. With huge letters stating that it was written by the writer of Borderlands 2, I think we gotta ask – maybe it’s time to stop relying on the past and have someone write a spectacular story on par and better than Borderlands 2? Just anyone but Anthony Burch.

#borderlands #borderlands debt or alive #debt or alive #fiona the con artist #sasha the kid sister #gaige the mechromancer #bl spoilers #debt or alive spoilers #fiona dillon #sasha dillon #gaige dimartino #book review #ed.txt #ed's edits #ed.png

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