#it's been that way for 4 generations who am i to tempt fate and say no 🤷

[fightclubrat]

i think this winter is the perfect time to die.

[tvccreator]

Replaying Subnautica - Have Some Tips

...I should be doing college work, yet here I am. o-o’

Oh, well.

SUBNAUTICA!!

I really love this game. It’s terrifying as all hell, but I love it so much. I haven’t really played through Below Zero due to being a goddamn coward, but I have put nearly 100 hours into OG Subnautica. Here are some little tips for anyone who maybe hasn’t played it in a long time or hasn’t played it at all but wants to later on. Here are Ellie’s Top 10 Tips for New/Returning Gamers Playing Subnautica.

1. Make fins and an oxygen tank as soon as feasibly possible and keep upgrading them when you can. You’re going to want that extra O2, and the fins, while not the best, can be upgraded to either Ultra Glide Fins or Swim Charge Fins - the latter being able to charge your electronic devices and the former being twice as fast as normal fins.

2. Harvest a lot of salt deposits and coral tube samples. While you can use salt to cure your food, I’d recommend saving it and making bleach out of it. While Bladderfish water gives you +20 to your fluid intake, bleach can make two water bottles that give +30 each. It’s a little thing, but one I find handy until you can make the Water Filtration system.

3. Use the vehicles and the Seaglide sparingly. Most of the enemies in Subnautica are attracted to lights, sound, or both, so moving through the water as silently as possible is key. Especially around the damn Reaper Leviathans.

4. Build bases in the different biomes. This one’s a given, but it helps to have a habitat at the ready in most biomes, especially ones that are deeper underwater. It’s a great storage place, you can fix up your vehicles if you have a Moonpool, and you can build things with a Fabricator if you need emergency supplies.

5. BEACONS. Those will be your best friend, so get the Beacon fragments as soon as possible. Believe me, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lost my way trying to find the damn mushroom forests and, when I finally find it, I lose it almost immediately after. (My most recent escapade to find the mushroom forest ended up with me going right to the giant-ass gun island by accident. That was not fun for my heart when I started hearing Reapers and I immediately thought I had gone into the Dunes.) 

6. You can desensitize yourself to the Reapers’ roars. It’s been too long since I last played, so I have to get used to them again. However, it’s pretty easy to desensitize yourself. Go into a creative world, go build a base in a Reaper-infested area (I used the Crash Zone for mine, but I plan on using the Dunes next) and just sit down and watch the Reapers for a few minutes. The roaring will be really loud, but it will help you warm up to the Reapers so that way you don’t go into “deer in the headlights” mode when you hear one in a survival world.

7. Don’t be afraid to stock up on supplies. You will find that, as you get further into the game, some resources become pretty damn scarce, so make sure you stock up. Most common things to stock up on would be copper, cave sulfur, silver, diamonds, ion cubes (and tablets), nickel, table coral, and most types of growable flora. 

8. To quote Jacksepticeye: “Okay, do not tempt fate! Fate will come back and bite you in your hairy ass!” For God’s sake, if you see a hostile leviathan or any variation of hostile creature, do not approach them. Leave them the hell alone to do whatever they were doing beforehand. If you haven’t seen Jacksepticeye playing Subnautica, then go watch his playthroughs if you want - both the early release and the full playthrough. He tempts fate way too many times.

9. Stasis Rifle + Scanner + Survival Knife = Safety. Almost everyone who has played Subnautica knows this general rule, but I thought I’d still say it. The stasis rifle, when you get it, will be an absolute necessity if you want to go scan the more dangerous creatures of Subnautica, especially the hostile leviathans. Make sure to charge the blast all the way, then get in close as fast as possible if the shot connects and scan that fucker before the stasis field dissipates. Then, if you really need to, use the survival knife in tandem with the stasis rifle to kill the hostile creature if it still poses a threat.

And Number 10. Don’t be upset if you’re afraid. Believe me, that feeling is very normal. It’s alright to be scared of Subnautica, even if you’re not a thalassophobe. It’s supposed to unnerve you; it’s survival horror where you can’t really defend yourself against the threats. That’s the entire point of the game. I love the ocean, but even I’m terrified of going anywhere near the Reaper Leviathans and the Sea Dragons because of the threat they pose. A lot of people will say that there’s nothing to be scared of when you play the game for a long time, and sure, that may be true for some people, but it’s not true for everyone. Don’t be mad at yourself for getting spooked by a crashfish or by backing away when you see a crabsquid. You’re not alone.

[polar-jake778]

Slerak

My name is Slerak, brute of damnation. Speak to me if you must, otherwise leave me to my quiet worldly demise. I will kill, I will speak thus, but do not expect me to do so fuelled by greed, rage or ignorance. I know what I am doing. And I trust that you feel the same. Killing children is not and will never be apart of the contract. If under any circumstances I am to execute a young adolescent child, you will not see tomorrow. Other than that, tis but all one wishes to wastefully express.

General information

Heavy body type

Deep voice

Favourite colour: brown

Cares little for politics or romantic affairs; seeks only peace in what stands before him.

Will not hesitate to tell the truth.

Is feared although not wanting to be.

Wears thick plated armour.

Love animals, but primarily polar bears(this is the only character that loves polar bears, I swear!)

Has an inverted triangle body shape.

Favourite food: grass roots mixed with tree sap.

Is currently wanted dead or alive in over 4 planets.

Likes to put his hair in a loose ponytail.

He killed a bounty hunter by ripping their fingers off one by one, to show that not even hands can count the worth of ones greed.

He burns books after he has read them for the 18th time. This is because he believes that burning things is a way to give back to nature. And also because he is paranoid of the number 19(linked to the date his sister passed away).

Description.

Slerak is a member of the warriors guild. Powerful with respect to his own belonging in a world filled with meaning and meaninglessness. He has a tanned Caucasian skin tone, bolstered by a mixture of long blonde hair and a thick beard. Although at first sight he may seem dumb and arrogant, he is well articulated and can easily out wit any of those who wish to take him on intellectually. They say, not even Cicero could break this beast of honesty.

Hidden away in the hilltops of swallowed valley, Slarek was raised by his eldest sister; esdilla. He was raised in reach of many encumbering books, works of literature and works of art. This isolation lead to a black and white view of the world. The worth of man is nothing compared to the life that exhumes from nature itself.

Slarek respects nature, as it should respect him. Mutually. At times they argue, but soon find resolve. An argument that Slarek is yet to win, and burdens each day, is the battle between understanding and revenge. Why did the darkness take his sister? What good will it make of her? She was alone, had nobody to defend her. He was the only person in her life, and as she made her descent, he made his longing rise into a passion forged by pain. What more can big sister ask but a brother to whom can stand up for himself?

Nature persists upon stating that the death of his sister is the birth of him. “But only Cicero knows such truths”, he says to himself each morning and each night.

Even after killing a foe equal to him, Slarek takes the time to cater to the soil below in respect of the soul and soil that has been stained by his presence. A constant struggle between bestowing an honourable and respectable passing, all the while bearing the guilt behind each lifeless face. To the darkest truth amongst it all. He is as bad as most men. Nor does he think beyond that. He knows his place, respects his time in such an intense world.

With the battle that rages on within persisting, will he falter to the fury, thus shifting in favour of revenge, or remain silent and content?

We will one day soon learn of his place, his journey and whether he is truly as disciplined and humble as he believes. Oblivion and the darkness that persists within the swallowed valley can make a life worth nothing, or finally something. When fate places you in face of the one to whom stole all that you had, what are you to do?

That’s my description of Slerak. I was tempted to use AI generated images for concept art, but I will leave it for a while to see whether a bored artist is interested in drawing a depiction of what I have described. Slerak is a character that I thought of to whom would show up in my sci fi fantasy series. A stoic warrior is the Simplest explanation, but he really is more than that. There is an outstanding motivation, a story that plays out from his own experience, and a hardship to overcome. This is all to add depth to a large world, where it makes each place feel different to the next. Slarek is one of many interesting characters that I am to write about on here. Cicero, for example, is most likely next. But I will remain quiet in that front. For now, I will leave you with Slarek.

As always, for your efforts of reading this workshop of thought. Here is a polar bear!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

[forever-rogue]

Of Princes & Berries - Part 1

A/N: Yeah, so I have like zero self control, and I’m so deep in my Pedro feels and Oberyn is one of my og loves. In this family we throw canon out the window. Canon? I don’t know her. Anyways, this will probably be like 2-3 parts, y’all will get some sexy times, so hold tight. As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: slight language

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Popping a few of the fresh, succulent berries into your mouth, you received a tut and playful glare from the chef that was busy preparing various foods for feasts throughout the day. You gave him an innocent smile before putting a finger to your lips.

"Those are for the prince," he reminded you playfully, passing a jug of wine towards you, "those were imported just for him, best not eat them all."

"Oh relax," you gently bumped him with your hip as you loaded everything onto your serving tray, "our esteemed guest won't be missing a few of them. Besides, these are so much mode delicious than the ones we have here. Ours are so lackluster and have no flavor. These are practically bursting with juice and flavor. Maybe the best I’ve ever had!”

"Why do you think he specifically asked for them?" he turned back to the pot he was stirring, giving you a little sigh.

"Because he's the fucking prince of Dorne?" you started to lift the tray up to carry it to the gardens where he was no doubt waiting, "and he's got impeccable taste. Looks, taste, people throwing themselves at him left and right? What a life he leads.”

"Just make sure this gets out to him," he insisted and you gave him a small salute as you headed out of the dim kitchens, “and no detours to eat more berries!”

A small sigh escaped your lips as you stepped into the daylight and felt the sun's rays hit you and instantly warm you up. Everything felt lighter already. Most days in King's Landing were overcast and not this beautiful, at least not during this time of year, and you planned on taking full advantage of it. Perhaps later, when you were done with morning duties, you’d go and set by the sea for a while. It always relaxed something deep within you.

As soon as you spied the prince, staring out into sea, a smile grew on your face. You'd spoken to him a few times here and there, mostly in passing, since his arrival at King's Landing. He was a bright spot, a welcome interruption in our normally monotonous and drool days.

He always spoke to you in a kind manner, taking the time to ask your name, how you were doing, small things. But unlike most people in the court, he seemed genuine in his actions, kind even. He truly listened when you spoke, rather than just blowing you off.

As you approached him, a smile stretched across his handsome features when he realized it was you, causing a small flutter in your heart.

"Good morning, Y/N," he stood and offered you a small bow as you set the tray down on the table in front of him. It was a sign of respect; reverence. Proprietary would have you bowing to him, but he never was one for rules, "how are you on this fair day?"

"Your highness," you beamed at him, pushing a plate of berries at him, "I dare say my day has been much improved. What good luck it was that they sent me to serve you."

"Good fortune, even a wonderful twist of fate," he sat back and watched you intently, "or perhaps I made a simple request."

"A request," you raised an eyebrow as you sneaked a berry, which just made him chuckle at you. Normally, with almost anyone else, you'd never be so bold. But with Oberyn...it felt normal, right even, "you asked for me?"

"You sound surprised," he mused as you leaned against the table, trying to soak up as much sun as possible, "why does it surprise you so?"

"I don't know," you said quietly, "I just never thought I'd make that much of an impression on anyone. I prefer to pass by quietly, generally."

"You've made quite the impression on me, sweet girl," he said softly. You caught your bottom lip in between your teeth as his words fell over you, "I'll take every opportunity I can to look at that lovely face."

"You flatter me," but a content sigh escaped your lips nonetheless, "it is I who am in awe of your beauty, your highness. Surely."

“Now you’re just flattering me, fanning my ego like everyone else,” he waved his hand at you laughed at him, “I didn’t specifically ask for you just because you fall in line like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry then,” you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, “I shall never flatter you again. Nothing but complete honesty.”

“A simple request, no?” he teased, letting his fingers linger near yours. You studied his hands, the few scars that had marred the warm, tan skin. He was really was beautiful, such a sight to behold in your otherwise dreary life, “can I ask you something...perhaps too forward?”

“Yes,” permission was given without hesitation, and worry. Nothing about him worried in you in that sense. Sure, he was the Red Viper, deadly, feared, and brutal in his own way, but you saw past that...he was also kind, gentle, surprisingly soft spot and quick as a whip, “anything.”

“Have you been with a prince before?” 

“I’ve been with many men who call themselves all sort of things,” you shrugged your shoulders as you poured more wine into his goblet, “kings, princes, knights, lords. You name it and I’ve been with one.”

“And have they lived up to your expectations?”

“Hardly,” you grabbed a berry and popped into your mouth, and raising an eyebrow at him, “the only time I’ve experienced true pleasure, it has certainly not been at the hands of a man.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you sat down across from him, far overstepping any boundaries that remained. But Oberyn was different; he wasn’t like all the other princes and lords who spoke down to you like you were some sort of mere peasant. He treated you like an actual person. That in itself was enough to keep you intrigued; his delicious, warm accent didn’t hurt either. It was like music to your ears, sweet like the wine that flowed freely throughout the court, and much more pleasant than the harsh accents of the King’s Landing that you’d have grown accustomed to.

“You prefer the company of women?”

“I do enjoy the company of women,” you gave him a lazy half smile, “very much so. They’re beautiful creatures, soft, and warm, kind. Unlike men, they know how to touch other women, how to make love and make it a pleasurable experience, not just spend five minutes pounding into you until they’ve found release like a common barnyard animal. And then again, if all else fails, there is also the undeniable pleasure you can give yourself.”

“Very valid points,” he eat a few of the fresh berries, his dark eyes never leaving yours. A smile played on his features as relaxed in his seat, letting the sun warm him, “clearly you haven’t been with the right men.”

“Do you think you’re different?”

“I know I’m different.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re very sure of yourself, my prince. Is your reputation well deserved? Are you as good of a lover as they all say?”

“I am,” a small smirk played on his lips as he crossed his legs, gauging your every reaction closely. He was curious, almost deathly curious to see what you hid under your cool exterior. You acted like you belonged in the court, under the direction of the Lannisters, but he could see through right through you. He knew you weren’t fully invested in your job or life here; hells, anyone that spared you more than a passing glance could see that much, “do you care to find out?”

“I appreciate the forwardness,” you gave him a wicked little smile of your own, “but surely you’ve got better things, and individuals, to shower in your worship. I am a simple servant, not worthy of anyone’s time, something I am made sure never to forget.”

You didn’t wait for a response before standing up and brushing your skirts off as you turned to head back inside. You’d been gone for some time now, surely you’d be attracting some unwanted attention any minute. You’d only been meant to serve the prince, not converse as though you were fast friends, shamelessly flirting in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

Oberyn was a welcome change to the cold atmosphere of the court you were used to. He brought a certain liveliness, warmth, and you swore more sunlight, with him. You could only imagine how wonderful it must be back in Dorne, where he got to spread that same radiance day in and day out. 

“Where are you from?” he asked as you turned to leave. You paused and tensed up, surprised by the sudden question. He didn’t move as he waited for answer; part of you was tempted to pretend that you hadn’t heard him, but you knew better than to defy the prince.

“I’m just a servant, your highness,” you gave him a saccharine smile as you watched his expression falter slightly. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, “I am from wherever I am situated. My job isn’t to have a personality, it’s to serve others.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry, took a bite before standing up and striding over to you. His caramel gaze was focused on yours as he gently grabbed your jaw with one hand raised the berry to your lips. It was a question of sorts, to see if you trusted him. Without hesitation, you parted your lips slightly, letting him pop the berry into your mouth. You let the juices coat your mouth before swallowing, your eyes never leaving his. Oberyn traced his thumb delicately along your bottom lip, wiping away the small bit of lingering juice, “where are you from, my sweet girl?”

“Your highness-”

“It’s a simple question,” he let go of your jaw, his face moving into a softer expression as his eyes slowly raked over you. If it had been almost any other man, you would have been disgusted, but there was some gentle about when it was Oberyn. 

“Honeyholt,” the name of your birthplace fell off your lips almost like a whisper, and your eyes darted around to make sure no one had heard. When you worked for the Lannisters, personal matters as such were best left unsaid; they paid you, albeit barely, for your service, not to moan about your previous life. 

“That’s rather far from here,” he mused and you shrugged lightly. You were a a child, a mere young thing the last time you had visited your place of origin. You didn’t remember enough of it to truly miss. King’s Landing had been your home since, “what brings you here, to the harsh life of the court?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you bit your lip, unsure of how far he wanted you to go into detail, “I...was brought here by parents. They needed the money, and I was their only source of commodity. For them it was an easy decision. I haven’t seen them since.”

“I could tell you were not from this forsaken place,” you wondered what he meant, how easily he could tell you were different. You’d spent most of your life trying to blend and not stick out, you’d thought you’d been doing a fairly decent job. Most people didn’t spare you a passing glance, unless they desired something from you.

“And just how is that, if you don’t my asking?”

“You’re much too beautiful to be from here,” he answered and your entire body suddenly felt like it was on fire. You turned your head, gaze intently trained on the cracked ground of the aging palace as you avoided his inquisitive looks. He reached over and with a few gentle fingers tilted your chin up to face him, “do not shy away from your beauty.”

“I do not,” your voice was but a whisper, “people do not usually show me such...reverence.”

“You have kind eyes,” he carried on, “the sweetest smile, hair fair more beautiful than the Lannister gold they love so much here. Your accent gives you away, it is very slight, but anyone with a keen ear will be able to pick up on it. These barbarians here no doubt have come to ignore it.”

“You...” no one had pointed out that fact that you have a slight lilt to your voice in years. You’d lost the majority of any accent as a child, having come to court as such a young one, and being surrounded by nothing but the gruff voices of the crownlands.

“And if you don’t mind my saying so,” he took a step closer and ran a gentle hand down your body, fingers grazing down your side and sending a shiver down your spine, “a figure that any man or woman would be blessed by the gods to know. Beautiful breasts, a round bottom, lovely thighs, I can only imagine how exquisite everything I’m not seeing is.”

His large hand gave your ass a firm squeeze, and a small sound escaped your lips; a mixture of surprise and pleasure. He was forward, there was no doubt about that, but nothing about it felt...wrong, or unwelcome. You could tell he was making sure every touch and word off of his lips that he was making sure you were okay with it. And you were. Everywhere he went, women, and men, fawned over him, dying for even a bit of affection and attention from the prince. Here you were, having down nothing and you were the object of his desire. 

“You flatter me far more than I deserve, your highness,” your cheeks were on fire as he smiled at you, trying to reassure you that his affection was well deserved.

“Please,” he insisted, bringing a hand back up to your face, “enough with the formalities. Oberyn.”

“Oberyn,” you repeated, enjoying how it felt on your tongue, so sweet and foreign, much more interesting than anyone you encountered through your daily duties.

“What was your name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insisted, but he was not fooled by your attempts at deflection. Instead, he leaned against the carved marble pillar, arms crossing his chest as he analyzed you, “you know my name.”

“My dear, sweet little one,” you sighed lightly at the sound of his voice, so rich and warm, hitting each last nerve within you, “everyone has a name. It means something, even if that of a bastard.”

“What if I don’t want to have a name? What if I want to be no one?” you shrugged as you leaned against the column facing him, “what if I want to hide in the shadows?”

“Y/N,” your name had never sounded more lovely or magical than when it came off of his lips. It sounded pretty, beautiful almost, “it matters. You should be proud of who you are...unless you are some sort of monster, which I already know you are not.”

“You already know my name.”

“And you know exactly what I’m referring to you. I am a prince, sweet one, not a fool.”

“Flowers,” you gave him a soft smile, “just like all bastards of the Reach.”

“But you’re not a bastard,” he pointed out as you nodded, “so why do you claim the name?”

“So I can be no one.”

“You, my sweet girl,” he was by your side again in no time, leaning only mere inches between the two of you. He smelled warm and sweet, likes spices and exotic fruit. Enchanting. Lovely, “are destined to be so much more than no one.”

“I assure you, it doesn’t matter,” you said after a few beats of silence, “my family was once one of the many great houses, just like so many others. But they fell and were broken apart over the years. The remainder of them are common merchants now. It’s easier to claim the name of a bastard than to receive pity for your family’s misfortunes from the likes of Lannisters and Starks and whomever else.”

“I am sure you far outshine them in every way,” he pushed a few locks of your hair out of your face, “your kindness is fair greater.”

“I...I know why you’re here, your hi- Oberyn,” you were scared that you had overstepped your boundaries, but weren’t able to hold back your tongue. He was so forward and open with you, surely he wouldn’t mind if you did the same. 

“And why is that?” his curiosity was piqued as he tried to read your expression.

“Your sister,” you answered softly and he shifted on his feet, shoulders tensing slightly, “I used to work for her...when I was just a child...before. She was the kindest woman I had ever met, gentle and sweet to everyone she ever encountered. Beautiful to no ends and her smile could light up the entire kingdom. Her babes were just as sweet, they would grown up to be the kindest people.”

“You knew Elia?” he was quieter now, and had a soft pang to his voice. He still missed and longed for his sister. Even though she had been gone for some time now, he still mourned for her and her children every day.

“She’s probably the reason I’m still alive,” you admitted, “she took me under her wing when I was brought here. I miss her too. I cannot imagine the sadness and burden it must have placed upon you and I would not dare to imagine. But I know how hard it was on someone like me, just a servant.”

“I think of her every day,” he admitted, “I know I cannot get her back, but it doesn’t dull the pain; Dorne has mourned her loss every day. Instead we must honor the memory of those we’ve lost, instead of letting grief consume us, no?”

“Yes,” you agreed, placing a small smile back on your face. You hadn’t meant to bring the mood down, but you wanted to let him know where you stood, that you were on his side, “I...I blame myself some days. When they attacked...I just ran and hide. I ran and ran and ran until it felt like I couldn’t breathe and then I hid and waited, waited till the smoke had cleared and it was safe to come out. I didn’t even try to help her or her babies. I just wonder if...I had stayed if I could have done something.”

“You were a child,” he could imagine the horrors you had seen, all the thoughts and emotions that had stayed with you throughout the years, “it was not your place to do anything. You protected yourself; it is our instinct to flee and hide, especially as children.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were a child,” he repeated firmly, “you were not a coward and it was not your duty to protect anyone. They should have protected you.”

You weren’t even aware of the fact that a few tears had rolled down your cheeks, but Oberyn was quick to wipe them away. He brushed a thumb over your cheeks, in such a soft and intimate gesture, offering you a small, reassuring smile in return. You put your hand on his wrist and gave it a firm squeeze, “thank you.”

“Y/N,” you almost jumped out of skin at the sound of Cersei’s grating voice. Swiftly wiping the rest of your tears away with the back of your hand, you took a step back from the prince, who seemed completely nonplussed, “surely you’ve got other duties to attend to. I’m sure the prince’s wine and berry need has been satiated for now. We know where to find you if we want more. Go on and apologize to his highness for your folly and distraction.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you let out a shaky breath and gave her a nod. She had her trademark smirk on her face and you wished you could slap it off of her pinched features. She really was cruel down to her core, and you often wondered when the last bits of humanity had left her. You wondered how much she had seen or heard. Hopefully not enough to warrant any sort of punishment. 

Instead, you gave her a nod and small bow before turning back to Oberyn, “I apologize for my indiscretions, your highness. Please let me know if I can be of service at any time.”

“What did I tell you, my sweet girl, call me Oberyn,” he was not bothered by Cersei in the slightest and her jaw dropped in surprise. You couldn’t hide the small smile that crept onto your face, “and do not apologize for a conversation I have initiated. Surely even the lovely Cersei can understand that people enjoy conversation.”

“I...yes,” you returned his warm smile, unable to contain yourself and enjoying the little thrill that defying Cersei had placed in your bones. He reached for your hand and placed a kiss, chaste kiss to the back of it. You knew Cersei must have been dying on the inside at the exchange, frankly, so were you, “thank you, Oberyn.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, making it a point to look directly at Cersei, who was fuming silently. If she had been a kettle, steam would have been exploding out of her ears, “I’ll find you.”

Just before you could turn to return to the kitchen and go about the rest of your daily duties, Oberyn trailed his fingers over your face, letting his gaze linger on your lips, “until later, dear Y/N.”

You turned to go back inside without another word, a bounce in your step at what had just happened. But just before you got inside, you heard him call after you, “I’m glad you enjoyed my berries, sweet girl!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[stylishanachronism]

Classic Aedyran and/or Dyrwoodan love story archetypes (and which gods they do and/or REALLY REALLY DO NOT invoke or involve)?

This went extremely sideways and also has no internally consistent organization, but that’s why it’s a series of bullet points and not an essay.

So Aedyrans are pretty obviously into three things: duty, tragedy, and Drama. Like on the surface it’s all austere dutiful piousness but go like, an inch below that and the dramatics just start pouring out.

-I’m not saying Aloth isn’t like, legit anxious about the very real trouble he’s about to be or currently in, I’m just saying a solid chunk of that is rooted in a culture that takes ancestor worship to really weird places, among other things, and literally none of it is as big a problem as literally anybody is making it out to be.

—the appearance of not even wrongdoing but just.... not enough virtue signaling is *just as bad* as actual wrongdoing. (They blackmail that one kid with his mom’s probably-fictional indiscretions? To the point where it kills him even.) Like ‘I saw Goody Proctor vent’ is actually the name of the game here.(1)

That being said, and given soap operas have not been invented, we’ve probably got three major schools of art:

-high brow morality plays in which either our poor ill fated couple, torn apart by (unscrupulous relatives? That hussy down the street? A wild misunderstanding involving a stolen baby who was swapped for another stolen baby? Somebody’s being tempted away from true love here, to whatever end) fate, dutifully come back to each other and are deliriously respectably happy together, or fall into despair and die over their bad choices. Think extra-overwrought Victorian ‘modernists’(which I heartily don’t recommend.), crossed with the soapiest tellanovellas you can imagine (which if you’re into that style of drama, I do)

-fantasy Shakespeare, where all the dick jokes are so old nobody recognizes them any more, possibly with a moral stapled to the end

-eyebrow raising, too much for today’s delicate stomachs, fucking wild shit presented as ‘educational’, with worse shit underground(2), because the veneer is more important than the reality of the thing.

But the major tropes you’re going to see like.... overall, not just in theater, are probably more community based? Like, you fall in love with your neighbor’s kid, she falls in love with you, so you both go to your mothers and they’ll determine whether it’s a good match or not, you technically don’t really get a say in the matter.(3) There’s also probably a lot of superstition involved? Like, if the omens are bad you’re not getting married, but if they’re just okay you may have to wait six months.

-also there’s a lot of hideously complex contract work over who’s marrying into what, among other things.

—divorce isn’t an option! Better hope your relatives pick wisely!

—- more accurately divorce is even more hideously complex and expensive, so unless your spouse is actively trying to kill you it’s probably not worth it, and even then you’d probably have serious second thoughts.

In terms of like, the Ideal Romantic Partner (not necessarily romantic partner, but given you’ve got to be married if you want to(socially acceptably) have sex or have kids, because Aedyrans are wild), you’re probably looking at someone dutiful, who will put their own comfort second to keeping their word, cultured but not smug about it, efficient but thorough, graceful and always perfectly composed no matter what happens, soft spoken without being servile, and the whole package should come across as effortless.

We’re attempting to ignore all the work I’ve done re: shitty Protestants, so we’ve canonically got nobody actually in charge of marriage anywhere, so probably you’re praying to Woedica (to keep your contract) and Hylea (if you need this marriage to be fruitful), and maybe even Ondra (to ensure everybody remains faithful, because Aedyrans are Dramatic, and the fucking moon bedroom is a thing)

As for the Dyrwodans:

Less repression + more inversion ceremonies mean they’re way less dramatic in general, but obviously that means they’re still Really Dramatic, given they’re into swearing eternal feuds over literally nothing every other day. They place a much stronger importance on soul lineages than blood lineages, but whether you take that into consideration re: romance probably depends on what current feuds your family and/or community is currently embroiled in, and how serious they are. And if you have the cash/local cipher to get said lineage traced.

-Theater tropes are going to tend towards the comedic (think 27 dresses, or some other friendshippy romcom) and bawdy, and also fantasy Shakespeare, now with added dick jokes, because the existing ones are still too old to be recognizable, and probably some of the less overwrought Aedyran and Vailian plays, maybe. Also the whole theater plot, because that is a thing, even if they’ve had to bury it both deeper and shallower than Aedyr.

As a general thing, marriage is still mostly a practical thing, and while your families are definitely involved, they’ve generally got much less of a say in it. Outside of high society weddings, which are obviously more alliances than anything else, there’s generally not a contract so to speak; because children belong to their mothers, and nobody much cares where she got them unless she’s already married, when and if she does get married, it’s socially expected that her new spouse will join her household, and splitting up a household is so socially unacceptable murder is a neater, less fraught solution than divorce(4).

Your Ideal Romantic Partner (who probably is romantic, unless you need an extra pair of hands all the time that badly) is clever without being supercilious, with an easy disposition and a good sense of humor, willing to take life as it comes, but also to defend what they’ve got to their last breath, generous and community minded, but still independent enough not to need looking after, forthright but not unkind, and you should be able to tell how hard they work for whatever it is they want.

As for gods: pre everything, you’re probably looking to Abydon, to build your disparate members into a household, and Eothas, to make that household into a home. Post everything, it’s just Abydon, maybe Magran to ask that whatever trials you face make you stronger together. I don’t know, there isn’t a really good option there re: canon.

1: the Readcerans somehow take this even further but in an even weirder direction, this shit is wild, babes, but we’re not talking about them today

2: I’ve got a specific horrible irl example in mind but we’ll go with the theater quest in PoE, turned up to 11, because that lot hasn’t had nearly as much time to get established as Aedyran equivalents have.

3: congrats this is why Aloth is so hard to romance I guess. Nobody has approached his mother about him/he hasn’t asked his mother to approach anyone. Also I have extensive thoughts on the vagaries of social class re: marriage, so like, who exactly does the approaching is probably equally complex!

4: look I didn’t put that quest in there, what the fuck else am I intended to think? ....I mean Obsidian definitely definitely didn’t expect me to come up with polyamory gone wrong but like I’m not reaching when I say that’s the conclusion I came to. Hooray for weddings?

[thatesqcrush]

Fall From Grace, Pt. 9

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Fandom: The Good Fight. Reference: S4, E.4, “The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It.” CW: Angst, language, fluff. AN: Our lovely REE was on The Good Fight for all of 3 minutes so I am taking lots of liberties. I am obsessed with the anti-Barba. He was just delicious.

WC: 2313

Six months.

It had been six months since you moved to the East Coast and enjoyed all that NYC had to offer. However fast paced Chicago seemed to be, New York City moved just a little bit faster.

You had crammed a bagel with an obscene amount of cream cheese in your mouth when a plethora of emails with electronic case filings came through your inbox. You switched gears and began associating the files with the respective cases when one in particular caused you to freeze.

STR Laurie

Bryan Kneef, Esq.

233 South Wacker Drive, Suite 8000

Chicago, IL 60606-6448

Attorneys for Defendants

APPEARANCE OF COUNSEL

LIBERTY LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY,

HOLBROOK SECURITIES LLC (Defendants)

 V.

 Allison Kensington (Plaintiff)

Pearson Specter

Civil Action No. 10-cv-3752

TO THE CLERK OF THE COURT AND ALL PARTIES OF RECORD:  PLEASE TAKE NOTICE that the undersigned is admitted to practice in this court, and hereby enters an appearance as counsel in this case for defendants. Please serve all papers related to this action on the undersigned.

By: Bryan Kneef

STR Laurie

BKneef@STRLaurie.com

Attorneys for Defendants

 You swallowed the half-chewed bagel, grimacing as it scraped your throat as it went down.

“Motherfucker!” You swore loudly, slamming your hand on your desk.

“Am I interrupting?”

You jumped in your seat. You looked up and found yourself face to face with Rachel, who was standing in your doorway.  

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. “Oh, uh…”  

“Safe to say you saw the notice of appearance.” Rachel remarked, her brow cocked.  

You nodded. “Yup.” You smacked your lips on the end of the P, emphasizing it.

“I wanted to know if you still wanted in on the case.” Rachel sat in the chair in front of you, her arms crossed.  You had been at the firm maybe two weeks tops before you spilled everything to Rachel about Bryan.  

“Yes, I do.” You replied. “And before you ask me if I'm tough enough to be in there, I want you to know that I am tough enough.”

“That's not what I wanted to ask.” Rachel replied. “I want to know if you think it will rattle him.”  

“Frankly, I think it was purposefully done.” You sighed. “Is there a deposition?”

 “Of course there is. Monday.”

--

The week surprisingly went quickly, and Monday came before you knew it. You looked over your appearance in the mirror. Suddenly your go-to pantsuit and button down didn’t cut it anymore. You hemmed and hawed in front of your closet and settled on a crisp white top and a muted grey pencil skirt. You popped the collar slightly and rolled up your sleeves. 

Your mind flew to the memories of what happened whenever you did wear pencil skirt – somehow it’d end up over your hips or by your ankles with Bryan bringing you to the height of pleasure. You pinned your hair up and kept your makeup minimal, with the exception of a bold lip. 

Your heels clacked against the pavement of the city’s sidewalk as you approached Pearson Specter. And sure enough, Bryan was in front of the building, pacing while on the phone.  

You ducked your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you. But curiosity got the best of you and you looked over your shoulder as you entered through the revolving door. Your eyes met Bryan’s as he pivoted while on the phone. You quickly turned and hurried into the building.

---

Bryan walked down the hall of the firm after being directed to the conference room.  He was anxious to see you. He knew he was playing with fire being here in New York. When the case fell in his lap, he knew he had to see it through and maybe, just maybe, see you. He missed you immensely. Truth be told, no other woman had ever gotten to him like you did. Through the glass, he noticed you setting up and his pulse quickened. Bryan rapped on the door before swinging the door open.

“Good morning.” You clipped. ‘Shit. Stay strong’ you thought to yourself as you drank him in. You nearly forgot how good he looked in his three piece suit. His gaze was smoldering and you shifted uncomfortably in your stance.

“Y/N.” Bryan greeted, with a small smile. “You look well.” 

“How’s everyone in Chicago?” You replied, ignoring his compliment as you stapled some paper together.  

“Good. You’re remembered fondly.” Bryan replied.

“I mean, can’t say I am surprised.” You retorted, as you finished organizing the conference table. “I’ll be sitting in on the depo, just so you know.”

“You think being in the room is going to keep me from doing my job?” Bryan asked, his brows furrowed.

You pointed at Bryan and then at yourself. “Aren’t I the reason you even signed on counsel?”

“Liberty Life is my client. Of course, I had to show up.” Bryan replied.

“So what – you figured you’d orchestrate this stunt and then –” 

“I didn’t orchestrate shit.” Bryan sighed, irritated. “I am doing my job.”

You cocked your head and leaned over the table slightly. “Is this a joke?” 

Bryan walked around to where you were standing. He was dangerously close to you and your eyes met his. “I miss you. Can’t we just talk?” 

You stood silently, racking your brain as to what to say. “About what? Us? What is there to say? Our relationship…” 

You moved to push back some hair when Bryan noticed the sparkling bracelet on your wrist. “You are wearing it.” 

You looked at the tennis bracelet. “Oh. Yes. It’s beautiful. Thank you. It was very generous of you.” 

Bryan reached for your hand and at the same time, Rachel entered the room. “Am I interrupting?” 

Bryan shirked back his hand. “No. Just catching up. Reminding Y/N that Chicago has better hot dogs. And that we should have never let her go.”

 ---

The deposition was grueling, lasting a few hours. Bryan was relentless in his questioning. As he fired his questions, your mind was transported back to the case you first helped him with and how you got to watch him in court.  Your whatever it was, with Bryan was complicated and was tempestuous. Deep down though, you still had deep feelings for Bryan. You spent your first month in New York crying your eyes out, wondering if you had made a mistake leaving.

You escorted your client out and then returned to gather the rest of your belongings. You paused before entering the conference room again, watching Rachel and Bryan speak. They shook hands and you wondered what that was about.  

Finally you took a breath and entered. “Everything okay?”

Rachel smiled. “I think we’ll be settling. Bryan has made a very generous offer.  

You smiled. “That’s great. I am happy to hear that.” While you were happy for your client, you were disappointed because you knew that Bryan would be leaving town. You groaned inwardly, hating how Bryan caused such a mix bag of feelings within you. 

“Walk me out?” Bryan asked. 

“Sure.” You blurted out, not even giving it so much as a second thought.

The walk to the elevator bank was silent. Finally, Bryan spoke. “Can we go out to dinner?”  

You raised a brow and sucked in a breath. “That … sounds sincere.” You searched Bryan’s eyes and realized he was indeed being genuine. “Okay.”

“Is your number the same?” Bryan asked and you nodded. “I’ll text you the details. I’ll see you tonight.” Bryan replied as the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival.

You bid Bryan adieu and went back to your office. Despite the piles of work on your desk, you found yourself distracted. You couldn’t focus one bit. Your mind kept going back to the events prior. You kept checking your phone to see if Bryan had texted you.

Groaning, you took your phone and threw it into your drawer. You opened a new browser window and were just about to throw yourself completely into your work when your phone buzzed loudly from inside your drawer.

It was Bryan. Reservations made at The River Cafe. 7pm.

You texted back. See you then.

You threw your phone back in the drawer and dropped your head into your hands. “What have I gotten myself into?” You wondered out loud. You knew you were playing with fire and that there was a real possibility of getting burned, but you looked forward to the date.

“It’s two people sharing a dinner. Nothing more. You got this.” You muttered to yourself. Part of you knew it was a lie. Part of you figured if you said it enough times, you’d believe it.

--

You left work an hour early to get ready. The River Café was situated right on the East River, just a hair south of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. You knew you needed enough time to get back to your apartment in Chelsea and then all the way down to Brooklyn. You decided to wear a cream-colored tulip hem skirt and a black lace deep v-neck blouse. The material of the blouse was quite thin and you decided to forego a bra to avoid lines. You knew your outfit was dangerous with Bryan. Simultaneously, you wanted Bryan to eat his heart out and maybe tempt fate so you could get dicked down.

You left your hair loose, just curling it slightly to make loose waves. You kept your makeup the same, just touching up your liner and lipstick. A spritz of perfume and a change of shoes to heeled strappy sandals and you were well on your way.  

Your stomach lurched as the cab sped downtown to the restaurant. You watched as the city flew by in a blur and subconsciously you played with your tennis bracelet. The cab came to a stop and you found yourself in front of the restaurant. 

Bryan was at the bar and the corner of his lips turned up into a devilish smile as you approached. Bryan wore dark jeans, a white button down and a matching navy suit jacket. The restaurant is gorgeous and the wafts of the various smells of food made your stomach rumble. 

“You look gorgeous.” Bryan complimented as he embraced you into a hug.

“Thank you. You look great yourself.” You replied. You inhaled his cologne and emotions flooded you. ‘Relax.’ You commanded to yourself.

 “I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of Malbec.” Bryan replied.

 “You remembered.” You smiled as the bartender came over with a glass.

 “Of course I did.” Bryan replied. “It’s your favorite.”

“The Catena Zapata Malbec Argentino for the lady, and an Old Fashioned for the gentleman.”

Bryan thanked the bartender, tipping him generously. You barely managed a sip when the hostess came over and seated you both at a table overlooking the East River – providing a clear shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. The view is breathtaking and you find yourself captivated by Bryan once more – all of the inner guards you had in place crumbled.

You both easily catch up over the last few months and dinner goes by quickly. Dessert is brought out and as you lick chocolate mousse off the spoon, you become acutely aware of Bryan’s lustful gaze on you. You give him a bashful look and you put the spoon down. Bryan paid for dinner while you excused yourself to the bathroom to freshen up.

The weather was warm and the breeze was inviting so you decided to walk along the Brooklyn Bridge back towards Manhattan. The tips of Bryan’s fingers grazed yours and the feeling is electric. The second time your fingers grazed his, they interlock and you hold hands the rest of the way until you get to the midpoint of the bridge. 

You take in the view of Manhattan ahead. Bryan stood next to you, also taking in the view. 

His hand traced concentric circles on your back and you involuntarily shivered. Bryan tilted your chin towards him. “I—I had a really nice time tonight.” You reply and you are surprised by how genuinely you mean it.

Bryan’s gaze lowered to your lips and instinctively you parted them. People on the bridge walk by but your oblivious to anyone else around you but Bryan. He pulled you flush against him. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck. Bryan’s lips ghosted yours and then he paused. You both breathed in each other’s air and finally you gave in, colliding your lips against his.  His kisses taste like the mousse you shared and the cocktails he had had during dinner. His tongue swirled against yours. Arousal shot to your core. A hand slipped up the slope of your side and somehow, discreetly, Bryan cupped your breast. His thumb ran over a hardened nipple and you let out a quiet moan. Finally you pull away breathless. Your lipstick was smeared and you could see evidence of it on Bryan’s lips. “Bryan we can’t do this.”

Bryan’s brows knit together and jaw tightened. He pulled away from you and faced the view of Manhattan. “Why? Because we’re on the opposite sides of a case now? I settled.”  

You don’t reply and you could feel your eyes brimming with tears.  

“I still love you. I haven’t stopped loving you. I know I hurt you. And I have apologized.” Bryan replied, his voice clipped.

“I know you have.” You replied. Your voice cracks and you kick yourself inwardly.

“Then what is it?”  

“I’m afraid.” You admitted. “I am scared you’re going to hurt me again.”

“I will do whatever it takes.” Bryan replied. “It won’t be easy since you decided to move to the wrong city.” He adds with a slight sneer.  

You laughed haughtily, rolling your eyes. “I wouldn’t have had to move if you just treated me like a human and not as if I were disposable.”  

“I told you I didn’t do the girlfriend thing. And then things got complicated. And I fucked up. It was all fucked. I…” Bryan paused. “I said I was sorry for fucks sake Y/N.”

You knew he was baring his soul. You turn back to him, and cup his bearded cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bryan furrowed his brow once more. “What the fuck does that mean? Does that mean you and I...” 

You nodded slowly. “We’ll try again. Because the truth is that I still love you too. And we owe it to at least really try. No more hiding anything to anyone.”

Bryan pulled you into a kiss once more. The kiss was with such intensity, it left your breathless. 

“Now would be the time for you to show me your bedroom.” Bryan growled in your ear.  

You smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

TBC.

Tag list: @madpanda75 @mgarner1227  @delia26   @tropes-and-tales  @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor​ @neely1177​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @skittle479​ @ottosuricato​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @mommakat32​ @dreila03​ @beccabarba​ @garturbo​ @lovebennycolon​ @imjustreallynosy​ @sweetsummertime99​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife​ @annabelleb49​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @cesarofangirl78​ @redlipstickandplaid​ @redlipstickandblacktea​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @differentshadesofgray​ @misssirenlove​ @esparza-army​ @bananas-pajamas​ @mishaissocoolike @kscarlett1 @thefanficfaerie​ @theenchantedgalleryofstories​ @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty​ @ktiz90​ @evee87​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles​ @rampantmuses​ @jazzyjoi​ @caked-crusader​- anyone else, just ask!

[rawliverandcigarettes]

Mass Effect Retribution, a review

Mass Effect Retribution is the third book in the official Mass Effect trilogy by author Drew Karpyshyn, who happens to also be Lead Writer for Mass Effect 1 and Mass Effect 2.

I didn’t expect to pick it up, because to be very honest I didn’t expect to like it. 9 years ago I borrowed Mass Effect Revelations, and I still recall the experience as underwhelming. But this fateful fall of 2020 I had money (yay) and I saw the novel on the shelf of a swedish nerd store. I guess guilt motivated me to give the author another try: guilt, because I’ve been writing a Mass Effect fanfiction for an ungodly amount of years and I’ve been deathly afraid of lore that might contradict my decisions ever since I started -but I knew this book covered elements that are core to plot elements of my story, and I was willing to let my anxiety to the door and see what was up.

Disclaimer: I didn’t reread Mass Effect Revelation before plunging into this read, and entirely skipped Ascension. So anything in relation to character introduction and continuity will have to be skipped.

Back-cover pitch (the official, unbiased, long one)

Humanity has reached the stars, joining the vast galactic community of alien species. But beyond the fringes of explored space lurk the Reapers, a race of sentient starships bent on “harvesting” the galaxy’s organic species for their own dark purpose. The Illusive Man, leader of the pro-human black ops group Cerberus, is one of the few who know the truth about the Reapers. To ensure humanity’s survival, he launches a desperate plan to uncover the enemy’s strengths—and weaknesses—by studying someone implanted with modified Reaper technology. He knows the perfect subject for his horrific experiments: former Cerberus operative Paul Grayson, who wrested his daughter from the cabal’s control with the help of Ascension project director Kahlee Sanders. But when Kahlee learns that Grayson is missing, she turns to the only person she can trust: Alliance war hero Captain David Anderson. Together they set out to find the secret Cerberus facility where Grayson is being held. But they aren’t the only ones after him. And time is running out. As the experiments continue, the sinister Reaper technology twists Grayson’s mind. The insidious whispers grow ever stronger in his head, threatening to take over his very identity and unleash the Reapers on an unsuspecting galaxy. This novel is based on a Mature-rated video game.

Global opinion (TL;DR)

I came in hoping to be positively surprised and learn a thing or two about Reapers, about Cerberus and about Aria T’loak. I wasn’t, and I didn’t learn much. What I did learn was how cool ideas can get wasted by the very nature of game novelization, as the defects are not singular to this novel but quite widespread in this genre, and how annoyed I can get at an overuse of dialogue tags. The pacing is good and the narrative structure alright: everything else poked me in the wrong spots and rubbed how the series have always handled violence on my face with cruder examples. If I was on Good Reads, I’d probably give it something like 2 stars, for the pacing, some of the ideas, and my general sympathy for the IP novel struggle.

The indepth review continue past this point, just know there will be spoilers for the series, the Omega DLC which is often relevant, and the book itself!

What I enjoyed

Drew Karpyshyn is competent in narrative structure, and that does a lot for the pacing. Things rarely drag, and we get from one event to the next seamlessly. I’m not surprised this is one of the book’s qualities, as it comes from the craft of a game writer: pacing and efficiency are mandatory skills in this field. I would have preferred a clearer breaking point perhaps, but otherwise it’s a nice little ride that doesn’t ask a lot of effort from you (I was never tempted to DNF the book because it was so easy to read).

This book is packed with intringuing ideas -from venturing in the mind of the Illusive Man to assist, from the point of view of the victim, to Grayson’s biological transformation and assimilation into the Reaper hivemind, we get plenty to be excited for. I was personally intrigued about Liselle, Aria T’loak’s secret daughter, and eager to get a glimpse at the mind of the Queen Herself -also about how her collaboration with Cerberus came to be. Too bad none of these ideas go anywhere nor are being dealt with in an interesting way!!! But the concepts themselves were very good, so props for setting up interesting premices.

Pain is generally well described. It gets the job done.

I liked Sanak, the batarian that works as a second to Aria. He’s not very well characterized and everyone thinks he’s dumb (rise up for our national himbo), even though he reads almost smarter than her on multiple occasions, but I was happy whenever he was on the page, so yay for Sanak. But it might just be me having a bias for batarians.

Cool to have Kai Leng as a point of view character. I wasn’t enthralled by what was done with it, as he remains incredibly basic and as basically hateable and ungrounded than in Mass Effect 3 (I think he’s very underwhelming as a villain and he should have been built up in Mass Effect 2 to be effective). But there were some neat moments, such as the description of the Afterlife by Grayson who considers it as tugging at his base instincts, compared to Leng’s description of it where everything is deemed disgusting. The execution is not the best, but the concept was fun.

Pre-Reaperification Paul Grayson wasn’t the worst point of view to follow. I wasn’t super involved in his journey and didn’t care when he died one way or the other, but I empathized with his problems and hoped he would find a way out of the cycle of violence. The setup of his character arc was interesting, it’s just sad that any resolution -even negative- was dropped to focus on Reapers and his relationship with Kahlee Sanders, as I think the latter was the least interesting part.

The cover is cool and intringuing. Very soapy. It’s my favorite out of all the official novels, as it owns the cheesier aspect of the series, has nice contrasts and immediately asks questions. Very 90s/2000s. It’s great.

You may notice every thing I enjoyed was coated in complaints, because it’s a reflection of my frustration at this book for setting up interesting ideas and then completely missing the mark in their execution. So without further due, let’s talk about what I think the book didn’t do right.

1. Dumb complaints that don’t matter much

After reading the entire book, I am still a bit confused at to why Tim (the Illusive Man’s acronym is TIM in fandom, but I find immense joy in reffering to him as just Tim) wants his experimentation to be carried out on Grayson specifically, especially when getting to him is harder than pretty much anyone else (also wouldn’t pushing the very first experiments on alien captives make more sense given it’s Cerberus we’re talking about?). It seem to be done out of petty revenge, which is fine, but it still feels like quite the overlook to mess with a competent fighter, enhance him, and then expect things to stay under control (which Tim kind of doesn’t expect to, and that’s even weirder -why waste your components on something you plan to terminate almost immediately). At the same time, the pettiness is the only characterization we get out of Tim so good I guess? But if so, I wished it would have been accentuated to seem even more deliberate (and not have Tim regret to see it in himself, which flattens him and doesn’t inform the way he views the world and himself -but we’ll get to that).

I really disliked the way space travel is characterized. And that might be entirely just me, and perhaps it doesn’t contradict the rest of the lore, but space travel is so fast. People pop up left and right in a matter of hours. At some point we even get a mention of someone being able to jump 3 different Mass Relays and then arrive somewhere in 4 hours. I thought you first had to discharge your ship around a stellar object before being able to engage in the next jump (and that imply finding said object, which would have to take more than an hour). It’s not that big of a deal, but it completely crammed this giant world to a single boulevard for me and my hard-science-loving tastes. Not a big deal, but not a fan at all of this choice.

You wouldn’t believe how often people find themselves in a fight naked or in their underwear. It happens at least 3 times (and everyone naked survives -except one, we’ll get to her later).

Why did I need to know about this fifteen year’s old boner for his older teacher. Surely there were other ways to have his crush come across without this detail, or then have it be an actual point of tension in their relationship and not just a “teehee” moment. Weird choice imo.

I’m not a fan of the Talons. I don’t find them interesting or compelling. There is nothing about them that informs us on the world they live in. The fact they’re turian-ruled don’t tell us anything about turian culture that, say, the Blue Suns don’t tell us already. It’s a generic gang that is powerful because it is. I think they’re very boring, in this book and in the Omega DLC alike (a liiittle less in the DLC because of Nyreen, barely). Not a real criticism, I just don’t care for them at all.

I might just be very ace, but I didn’t find Anderson and Kahlee Sanders to have much chemistry. Same for Kahlee and Grayson (yes we do have some sort of love-triangle-but-not-really, but it’s not very important and it didn’t bother me much). Their relationships were all underwhelming to me, and I’ll explain why in part 4.

The red sand highs are barely described, and very safely -probably not from a place of intimate knowledge with drugs nor from intense research. Addiction is a delicate topic, and I feel like it could have been dealt with better, or not be included at all.

There are more of these, but I don’t want to turn this into a list of minor complaints for things that are more a matter of taste than craft quality or thematic relevance. So let’s move on.

2. Who cares about aliens in a Mass Effect novel

Now we’re getting into actual problems, and this one is kind of endemic to the Mass Effect novels (I thought the same when I read Revelation 9 years ago, though maybe less so as Saren in a PoV character -but I might have forgotten so there’s that). The aliens are described and characterized in the most uncurious, uninspired manner. Krogans are intimidating brutes. Turians are rigid. Asaris are sexy. Elcors are boring. Batarians are thugs (there is something to be said with how Aria’s second in command is literally the same batarian respawned with a different name in Mass Effect 2, this book, then the Omega DLC). Salarians are weak nerds. (if you allow me this little parenthesis because of course I have to complain about salarian characterization: the only salarian that speaks in the book talks in a cheap ripoff of Mordin’s speech pattern, which sucks because it’s specific to Mordin and not salarians as a whole, and is there to be afraid of a threat as a joke. This is SUCH a trope in the original trilogy -especially past Mass Effect 1 when they kind of give up on salarians except for a few chosen ones-, that salarians’ fear is not to be taken seriously and the only salarians who are to be considered don’t express fear at all -see Mordin and Kirrahe. It happens at least once per game, often more. This is one of the reasons why the genophage subplot is allowed to be so morally simple in ME3 and remove salarians from the equation. I get why they did that, but it’s still somewhat of a copeout. On this front, I have to give props to Andromeda for actually engaging with violence on salarians in a serious manner. It’s a refreshing change) I didn’t learn a single thing about any of these species, how they work, what they care about in the course of these 79750 words. I also didn’t learn much about their relationships to other species, including humans. I’ll mention xenophobia in more details later, but this entire aspect of the story takes a huge hit because of this lack of investment of who these species are.

I’ve always find Mass Effect, despite its sprawling universe full of vivid ideas and unique perspectives, to be strangely enamoured with humans, and it has never been so apparent than here. Only humans get to have layers, deserving of empathy and actual engagement. Only their pain is real and important. Only their death deserve mourning (we’ll come back to that). I’d speculate this comes from the same place that was terrified to have Liara as a love interest in ME1 in case she alienated the audience, and then later was surprised when half the fanbase was more interested in banging the dinosaur-bird than their fellow humans: Mass Effect often seem afraid of losing us and breaking our capacity for self-projection. It’s a very weird concern, in my opinion, that reveals the most immature, uncertain and soapy parts of the franchise. Here it’s punched to eleven, and I find it disappointing. It also have a surprising effect on the narrative: again, we’ll come back to that.

3. The squandered potential of Liselle and Aria

Okay. This one hurts. Let’s talk about Liselle: she’s introduced in the story as a teammate to Grayson, who at the time works as a merc for Aria T’loak on Omega, and also sleeps with him on the regular. She likes hitting the Afterlife’s dancefloor: she’s very admired there, as she’s described as extremely attractive. One night after receiving a call from Grayson, she rejoins him in his apartment. They have sex, then Kai Leng and other Cerberus agents barge in to capture Grayson -a fight break out (the first in a long tradition of naked/underwear fights), and both of them are stunned with tranquilizers. Grayson is to be taken to the Illusive Man. Kai Leng decides to slit Liselle’s throat as she lays unconscious to cover their tracks. When Aria T’loak and her team find her naked on a bed, throat gaping and covered in blood, Liselle is revealed, through her internal monologue, to be Aria’s secret daughter -that she kept secret for both of their safety. So Liselle is a sexpot who dies immediately in a very brutal and disempowered manner. This is a sad way to handle Aria T’loak’s daughter I think, but I assume it was done to give a strong motivation to the mother, who thinks Grayson did it. And also, it’s a cool setup to explore her psyche: how does she feel about business catching up with her in such a personal manner, how does she feel about the fact she couldn’t protect her own offspring despite all her power, what’s her relationship with loss and death, how does she slip when under high emotional stress, how does she deal with such a vulnerable position of having to cope without being able to show any sign of weakness... But the book does nothing with that. The most interesting we get is her complete absence of outward reaction when she sees her daughter as the centerpiece of a crime scene. Otherwise we have mentions that she’s not used to lose relatives, vague discomfort when someone mentions Liselle might have been raped, and vague discomfort at her body in display for everyone to gawk at. It’s not exactly revelatory behavior, and the missed potential is borderline criminal. It also doesn’t even justify itself as a strong motivation, as Aria vaguely tries to find Grayson again and then gives up until we give her intel on a silver platter. Then it almost feels as if she forgot her motivation for killing Grayson, and is as motivated by money than she is by her daughter’s murder (and that could be interesting too, but it’s not done in a deliberate way and therefore it seems more like a lack of characterization than anything else).

Now, to Aria. Because this book made me realize something I strongly dislike: the framing might constantly posture her as intelligent, but Aria T’loak is... kind of dumb, actually? In this book alone she’s misled, misinformed or tricked three different times. We’re constantly ensured she’s an amazing people reader but never once do we see this ability work in her favor -everyone fools her all the time. She doesn’t learn from her mistakes and jump from Cerberus trap to Cerberus trap, and her loosing Omega to them later is laughably stupid after the bullshit Tim put her through in this book alone. I’m not joking when I say the book has to pull out an entire paragraph on how it’s easier to lie to smart people to justify her complete dumbassery during her first negotiation with Tim. She doesn’t seem to know anything about how people work that could justify her power. She’s not politically savvy. She’s not good at manipulation. She’s just already established and very, very good at kicking ass. And I wouldn’t mind if Aria was just a brutish thug who maintains her power through violence and nothing else, that could also be interesting to have an asari act that way. But the narrative will not bow to the reality they have created for her, and keep pretending her flaw is in extreme pride only. This makes me think of the treatment of Sansa Stark in the latest seasons of Game of Thrones -the story and everyone in it is persuaded she’s a political mastermind, and in the exact same way I would adore for it to be true, but it’s just... not. It’s even worse for Aria, because Sansa does have victories by virtue of everyone being magically dumber than her whenever convenient. Aria just fails, again and again, and nobody seem to ever acknowledge it. Sadly her writing here completely justifies her writing in the Omega DLC and the comics, which I completely loathe; but turns out Aria isn’t smart or savvy, not even in posture or as a façade. She’s just violent, entitled, easily fooled, and throws public tantrums when things don’t go her way. And again, I guess that would be fine if only the narrative would recognize what she is. Me, I will gently ignore most of this (in her presentation at least, because I think it’s interesting to have something pitiful when you dig a little) and try to write her with a bit more elevation. But this was a very disappointing realization to have.

4. The squandered potential of Grayson and the Reapers

The waste of a subplot with Aria and Liselle might have hurt me more in a personal way, but what went down between Grayson and the Reapers hurts the entire series in a startling manner. And it’s so infuriating because the potential was there. Every setpiece was available to create something truly unique and disturbing by simply following the series’ own established lore. But this is not what happens. See, when The Illusive Man, our dearest Tim, captures Grayson for a betrayal that happened last book (something about his biotic autistic daughter -what’s the deal with autistic biotics being traumatized by Cerberus btw), he decides to use him as the key part of an experiment to understand how Reapers operate. So he forcefully implants the guy with Reaper technology (what they do exactly is unclear) to study his change into a husk and be prepared when Reapers come for humanity -it’s also compared to what happened with Saren when he “agreed” to be augmented by Sovereign. From there on, Grayson slowly turns into a husk. Doesn’t it sound fascinating, to be stuck in the mind of someone losing themselves to unknowable monsters? If you agree with me then I’m sorry because the execution is certainly... not that. The way the author chooses to describe the event is to use the trope of mind control used in media like Get Out: Grayson taking the backseat of his own mind and body. And I haaaaate it. I hate it so much. I don’t hate the trope itself (it can be interesting in other media, like Get Out!), but I loathe that it’s used here in a way that totally contradicts both the lore and basic biology. Grayson doesn’t find himself manipulated. He doesn’t find himself justifying increasingly jarring actions the way Saren has. He just... loses control of himself, disagreeing with what’s being done with him but not able to change much about it. He also can fight back and regain control sometimes -but his thoughts are almost untainted by Reaper influence. The technology is supposed to literally replace and reorganize the cells of his body; is this implying that body and mind are separated, that there maybe exists a soul that transcends indoctrination? I don’t know but I hate it. This also implies that every victim of the Reaper is secretely aware of what they’re doing and pained and disagreeing with their own actions. And I’m sorry but if it’s true, I think this sucks ass and removes one of the creepiest ideas of the Mass Effect universe -that identity can and will be lost, and that Reapers do not care about devouring individuality and reshaping it to the whims of their inexorable march. Keeping a clear stream of consciousness in the victim’s body makes it feel like a curse and not like a disease. None of the victims are truly gone that way, and it removes so much of the tragic powerlessness of organics in their fight against the machines. Imagine if Saren watched himself be a meanie and being like “nooo” from within until he had a chance to kill himself in a near-victorious battle, compared to him being completely persuaded he’s acting for the good of organic life until, for a split second, he comes to realize he doesn’t make any sense and is loosing his mind like someone with dementia would, and needs to grasp to this instant to make the last possible thing he could do to save others and his own mind from domination. I feel so little things for Saren in the former case, and so much for the latter. But it might just be me: I’m deeply touched by the exploration of how environment and things like medication can change someone’s behavior, it’s such a painfully human subject while forceful mind control is... just kind of cheap.

SPEAKING OF THE REAPERS. Did you know “The Reapers” as an entity is an actual character in this book? Because it is. And “The Reapers” is not a good character. During the introduction of Grayson and explaining his troubles, we get presented with the mean little voice in his head. It’s his thoughts in italics, nothing crazy, in fact it’s a little bit of a copeout from actually implementing his insecurities into the prose. But I gave the author the benefit of the doubt, as I knew Grayson would be indoctrinated later, and I fully expected the little voice to slowly start twisting into what the Reapers suggested to him. This doesn’t happen, or at least not in that slowburn sort of way. Instead the little voice is dropped almost immediately, and the Reapers are described, as a presence. And as the infection progresses, what Grayson do become what the Reapers do. The Reapers have emotions, it turns out. They’re disgusted at organic discharges. They’re pleased when Grayson accomplish what they want, and it’s told as such. They foment little plans to get their puppet to point A to point B, and we are privy to their calculations. And I’m sorry but the best way to ruin your lovecraftian concept is to try and explain its motivations and how it thinks. Because by definition the unknown is scarier, smarter, and colder than whatever a human author could come up with. I couldn’t take the Reapers’ dumb infiltration plans seriously, and now I think they are dumb all the time, and I didn’t want to!! The only cases in which the Reapers influence Grayson, we are told in very explicit details how so. For example, they won’t let Grayson commit suicide by flooding his brain with hope and determination when he tries, or they will change the words he types when he tries to send a message to Kahlee Sanders. And we are told exactly what they do every time. There was a glorious occasion to flex as a writer by diving deep into an unreliable narrator and write incredibly creepy prose, but I guess we could have been confused, and apparently that’s not allowed. And all of this is handled that poorly becauuuuuse...

5. Subtext is dead and Drew killed it

Now we need to talk about the prose. The style of the author is... let’s be generous and call it functional. It’s about clarity. The writing is so involved in its quest for clarity that it basically ruins the book, and most of the previous issues are direct consequences of the prose and adjacent decisions.The direct prose issues are puzzling, as they are known as rookie technical flaws and not something I would expect from the series’ Lead Writer for Mass Effect 1 and 2, but in this book we find problems such as:

The reliance on adverbs. Example: "Breathing heavily from the exertion, he stood up slowly”. I have nothing about a well-placed adverb that gives a verb a revelatory twist, but these could be replaced by stronger verbs, or cut altogether.

Filtering. Example: “Anderson knew that the fact they were getting no response was a bad sign”. This example is particularly egregious, but characters know things, feel things, realize things (boy do they realize things)... And this pulls us away from their internal world instead of making us live what they live, expliciting what should be implicit. For example, consider the alternative: “They were getting no reponse, which was a bad sign in Anderson’s experience.” We don’t really need the “in Anderson’s experience” either, but that already brings us significantly closer to his world, his lived experience as a soldier.

The goddamn dialogue tags. This one is the worst offender of the bunch. Nobody is allowed to talk without a dialogue tag in this book, and wow do people imply, admit, inform, remark and every other verb under the sun. Consider this example, which made me lose my mind a little: “What are you talking about? Kahlee wanted to know.” I couldn’t find it again, but I’m fairly certain I read a “What is it?” Anderson wanted to know. as well. Not only is it very distracting, it’s also yet another way to remove reader interpretation from the equation (also sometimes there will be a paragraph break inside a monologue -not even a long one-, and that doesn’t seem to be justified by anything? It’s not as big of a problem than the aversion to subtext, but it still confused me more than once)

Another writing choice that hurts the book in disproportionate ways is the reliance on point of view switches. In Retribution, we get the point of view of: Tim, Paul Grayson, Kai Leng, Kahlee Sanders, David Anderson, Aria T’loak, and Nick (a biotic teenager, the one with the boner). Maybe Sanak had a very small section too, but I couldn’t find it again so don’t take my word for it. That’s too many point of views for a plot-heavy 80k book in my opinion, but even besides that: the point of view switch several times in one single chapter. This is done in the most harmful way possible for tension: characters involved in the same scene take turns on the page explaining their perspective about the events, in a way that leaves the reader entirely aware of every stake to every character and every information that would be relevant in a scene. Take for example the first negotiation between Aria and Tim. The second Aria needs to ponder what her best move could possibly be, we get thrown back into Tim’s perspective explaining the exact ways in which he’s trying to deceive her -removing our agency to be either convinced or fooled alongside her. This results in a book that goes out of his way to keep us from engaging with its ideas and do any mental work on our own. Everything is laid out, bare and as overexplained as humanly possible. The format is also very repetitive: characters talk or do an action, and then we spend a paragraph explaining the exact mental reasoning for why they did what they did. There is nothing to interpret. No subtext at all whatsoever; and this contributes in casting a harsh light on the Mass Effect universe, cheapening it and overtly expliciting some of its worst ideas instead of leaving them politely blurred and for us to dress up in our minds. There is only one theme that remains subtextual in my opinion. And it’s not a pretty one.

6. Violence

So here’s the thing when you adapt a third person shooter into a novel: you created a violent world and now you will have to deal with death en-masse too (get it get it I’m so sorry). But while in videogames you can get away with thoughtless murder because it’s a gameplay mechanic and you’re not expected to philosophize on every splatter of blood, novels are all about internalization. Violent murder is by definition more uncomfortable in books, because we’re out of gamer conventions and now every death is actual when in games we just spawned more guys because we wanted that level to be a bit harder and on a subconscious level we know this and it makes it somewhat okay. I felt, in this book, a strange disconnect between the horrendous violence and the fact we’re expected to care about it like we would in a game: not much, or as a spectacle. Like in a game, we are expected to root for the safety of named characters the story indicated us we should be invested in. And because we’re in a book, this doesn’t feel like the objective truth of the universe spelled at us through user interface and quest logs, but the subjective worldview of the characters we’re following. And that makes them.... somewhat disturbing to follow.

I haven’t touched on Anderson and Kahlee Sanders much yet, but now I guess I have too, as they are the worst offenders of what is mentioned above. Kahlee cares about Grayson. She only cares about Grayson -and her students like the forementioned Nick, but mostly Grayson. Grayson is out there murdering people like it’s nobody’s business, but still, keeping Grayson alive is more important that people dying like flies around him. This is vaguely touched on, but not with the gravitas that I think was warranted. Also, Anderson goes with it. Because he cares about Kahlee. Anderson organizes a major political scandal between humans and turians because of Kahlee, because of Grayson. He convinces turians to risk a lot to bring Cerberus down, and I guess that could be understandable, but it’s mostly manipulation for the sake of Grayson’s survival: and a lot of turians die as a result. But not only turians: I was not comfortable with how casually the course of action to deal a huge blow to Cerberus and try to bring the organization down was to launch assault on stations and cover-ups for their organization. Not mass arrests: military assault. They came to arrest high operatives, maybe, but the grunts were okay to slaughter. This universe has a problem with systemic violence by the supposedly good guys in charge -and it’s always held up as the righteous and efficient way compared to these UGH boring politicians and these treaties and peace and such (amirite Anderson). And as the cadavers pile up, it starts to make our loveable protagonists... kind of self-centered assholes. Also: I think we might want to touch on who these cadavers tend to be, and get to my biggest point of discomfort with this novel.

Xenophobia is hard to write well, and I super sympathize with the attempts made and their inherent difficulty. This novel tries to evoke this theme in multiple ways: by virtue of having Cerberus’ heart and blade as point of view characters, we get a window into Tim and Kai Leng’s bigotry against aliens, and how this belief informs their actions. I wasn’t ever sold in their bigotry as it was shown to us. Tim evokes his scorn for whatever aliens do and how it’s inferior to humanity’s resilience -but it’s surface-level, not informed by deep and specific entranched beliefs on aliens motives and bodies, and how they are a threat on humanity according to them. The history of Mass Effect is rich with conflict and baggage between species, yet every expression of hatred is relegated to a vague “eww aliens” that doesn’t feed off systemically enforced beliefs but personal feelings of mistrust and disgust. I’ll take this example of Kai Leng, and his supposedly revulsion at the Afterlife as a peak example of alien decadence: he sees an asari in skimpy clothing, and deems her “whorish”. And this feels... off. Not because I don’t think Kai Leng would consider asaris whorish, but because this is supposed to represent Cerberus’ core beliefs: yet both him and Tim go on and on about how their goal is to uplift humanity, how no human is an enemy. But if that’s the case, then what makes Kai Leng call an Afterlife asari whorish and mean it in a way that’s meaningfully different from how he would consider a human sex worker in similar dispositions? Not that I don’t buy that Cerberus would have a very specific idea of what humans need to be to be considered worth preserving as good little ur-fascists, but this internal bias is never expressed in any way, and it makes the whole act feel hollow. Cerberus is not the only offender, though. Every time an alien expresses bias against humans in a way we’re meant to recognize as xenophobic, it reads the same way: as personal dislike and suspicion. As bullying. Which is such a small part of what bigotry encompasses. It’s so unspecific and divorced from their common history that it just never truly works in my opinion. You know what I thought worked, though? The golden trio of non-Cerberus human characters, and their attitude towards aliens. Grayson’s slight fetishism and suspicion of his attraction to Liselle, how bestial (in a cool, sexy way) he perceives the Afterlife to be. The way Anderson and Kahlee use turians for their own ends and do not spare a single thought towards those who died directly trying to protect them or Grayson immediately after the fact (they are more interested in Kahlee’s broken fingers and in kissing each other). How they feel disgust watching turians looting Cerberus soldiers, not because it’s disrespectful in general and the deaths are a inherent tragedy but because they are turians and the dead are humans. But it's not even really on them: the narration itself is engrossed by the suffering of humans, but aliens are relegated to setpieces in gore spectacles. Not even Grayson truly cares about the aliens the Reapers make him kill. Nobody does. Not even the aliens among each other: see, once again, Aria and Liselle, or Aria and Sanak. Nobody cares. At the very end of the story, Anderson comes to Kahlee and asks if she gives him permission to have Grayson’s body studied, the same way Cerberus planned to. It’s source of discomfort, but Kahlee gives in as it’s important, and probably what Grayson would have wanted, maybe? So yeah. In the end the only subtextual theme to find here (probably as an accident) is how the Alliance’s good guys are not that different from Cerberus it turns out. And I’m not sure how I feel about that.

7. Lore-approved books, or the art of shrinking an expanding universe

I’d like to open the conversation on a bigger topic: the very practice of game novelization, or IP-books. Because as much as I think Drew Karpyshyn’s final draft should not have ended up reading that amateur given the credits to his name, I really want to acknowledge the realities of this industry, and why the whole endeavor was perhaps doomed from the start regardless of Karpyshyn’s talent or wishes as an author.

The most jarring thing about this reading experience is as follows: I spent almost 80k words exploring this universe with new characters and side characters, all of them supposedly cool and interesting, and I learned nothing. I learned nothing new about the world, nothing new about the characters. Now that it’s over, I’m left wondering how I could chew on so much and gain so little. Maybe it’s just me, but more likely it’s by design. Not on poor Drew. Now that I did IP work myself, I have developed an acute sympathy for anyone who has to deal with the maddening contradictions of this type of business. Let me explain.

IP-adjacent media (in the West at least) sure has for goal to expand the universe: but expand as in bloat, not as in deepen. The target for this book is nerds like me, who liked the games and want more of this thing we liked. But then we’re confronted by two major competitors: the actual original media (in ME’s case, the games) whose this product is a marketing tool for, and fandom. IP books are not allowed to compete with the main media: the good ideas are for the main media, and any meaningful development has to be made in the main media (see: what happened with Kai Leng, or how everyone including me complains about the worldbuilding to the Disney Star Swars trilogy being hidden in the novelization). And when it comes to authorship (as in: taking an actual risk with the media and give it a personal spin), then we risk introducing ideas that complicate the main media even though a ridiculously small percent of the public will be attached to it, or ideas that fans despise. Of course we can’t have the latter. And once the fandom is huge enough, digging into anything the fans have strong headcanons for already risks creating a lot of emotions once some of these are made canon and some are disregarded. As much as I joke about how in Mass Effect you can learn about any gun in excrutiating details but we still don’t know if asaris have a concept for marriage... would we really want to know how/if asaris marry, or aren’t we glad we get to be creative and put our own spin on things? The dance between fandom and canon is a delicate one that can and will go wrong. And IP books are generally not worth the drama for the stakeholders.

Add this to insane deadlines, numerous parties all involved in some way and the usual struggles of book writing, and we get a situation where creating anything of value is pretty much a herculean task.

But then I ask... why do IP books *have* to be considered canon? I know this is part of the appeal, and that removing the “licenced” part only leaves us with published fanfiction, but... yeah. Yeah. I think it could be a fascinating model. Can you imagine having your IP and hiring X amount of distinctive authors to give it their own spin, not as definitive additions to the world but as creative endeavours and authorial deepdives? It would allow for these novels to be comparative and companion to the main media instead of being weird appendages that can never compare, and the structure would allow for these stories to be polished and edited to a higher level than most fanfictions. Of course I’m biased because I have a deep belief in the power of fanfiction as commentary and conversational piece. But I would really love to see companies’ approach to creative risk and canon to change. We might get Disney stuff until we die now, so the least we can ask for is for this content to be a little weird, personal and human.

That’s it. That’s the whole review. Thank you for reading, it was very long and weirdly passionate, have a nice dayyyyy.

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 4)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for waiting during my little hiatus from writing this fic. I have been absolutely swamped with the end of program madness, but I am hoping I have now turned a corner and that I can do some writing more regularly. I miss getting to write these fluffy fics when the real world calls, but I am happy to report my muse got chatty again, and with a brief window of time I managed to write this next chapter of ‘When We Collide.’ We find Emma and Killian still en route to their new life, and there’s not a ton of action (which is coming later on), but some conversations need to be had for sure. Not to fear, nothing too too angsty in this chapter, and hopefully the surrounding cuteness is appreciated by all. Thanks so much for reading and hope you all enjoy!

No one ever felt so good in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska.

Not to say that people didn’t have happy lives in this state, or that there weren’t parts of this place that held beauty and meaning and excitement, but it was a commonly known fact when taking a cross country trek that Nebraska was a seemingly endless, barren span of driving. There were no trees, no hills, no real sights to see. It was just two lanes of highway going one way and two lanes of road on the other side. Occasionally there were billboards, and those made for a laugh. Some were more expected, reading ‘Gas Ahead!’ or ‘Next Exit 82 Miles,’ but others were a wild contradiction. Everything out here was either about Jesus or sex shops and that was not an exaggeration. Nearly every billboard they passed warned about the dangers of the devil or openly bragged about having the best stash of adult toys in the Midwest. It was absolute craziness, and in the meantime, there was just nothing out here at all. Just scraggly, heat ridden crops, miles of empty fields, and a horizon that stretched on for what felt like forever.

Yet while many people may not like the nothingness, Killian and Emma were of a very different mind. Sure, it had been a long few days of riding, but for Killian that meant having Emma curled up against him for hours on end. It felt damn good to have her holding him tight as they headed down the highway, and when they stopped to stretch their legs or use the facilities, they’d fallen into a pattern of shifting over the reins. In the downtime and when they wanted to get off the main road, Killian was showing Emma more about his bike, letting her get a feel for the machine and showing her how to captain it herself.

It was questionable how legal this was, of course. Emma had no license, but some of these states further out west didn’t pay any mind to that. Besides, there were no lawmen out anywhere. In their five hours of driving today they’d passed nothing and nobody but 18 wheelers making the trip from one coast to another. As such, Killian didn’t have much fear in letting Emma really ride, and it had only taken about an hour to learn the truth: his Swan was a natural and also a speed demon.

“I can’t get over how awesome this is,” Emma said, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair in a way designed to distract and entice any man. Even with a backdrop of nothingness, on a deserted road off highway where he’d let her spread her wings, Emma was stunning. Tie that in with the red leather jacket she’d been wearing all trip, her dark wash jeans, and the boots he knew she needed for the road, and he was done for.

They were only an hour or so from their next stop, a quaint, but fully fortified home in the city (a generous word given how small the place was) of North Platt, but Killian was in no rush. How could he be when Emma’s eyes were radiating the excitement of the moment, and her hair, despite just being in her helmet seemed windswept and wild. She was bloody gorgeous in all ways, but in the throws of something that thrilled her, she was entirely too much for his heart to handle.

Unable to stop himself, he pulled her flush against him for a searing kiss and he loved the way she leaned into it and seemed just as ravenous as he was. Instantly the rush of excitement Emma was feeling on the bike was channeled into their embrace, and Killian groaned at the contact. Her hips arched against him as her hands pulled him close. She nipped and licked and tasted him with the same feverish need that he had for her and it hiked his desperation to hold her close and sate the rising need between them. She was driving him mad, tempting him in ways nothing ever had before. He had half a mind to fuck her out here on the bike. The thought of it pulled a growl low from his chest, but the voice in the back of his head told him no. This wasn’t right. Not out here. Deserted as it was, cars were still passing and someone could see, and he’d never risk that with someone so precious as Emma. Instead he had to calm down and pull away, and when they drew back, her face was kissed with pink, not just from the ride, but from his attentions. The lust between them clung as hard to her as it did to him. Her green eyes were dark now, her breathing labored, and she wet her lips absentmindedly, causing a tug in his gut that wanted him to say fuck the rest of the world and take her here.

“I’m definitely adding a bike to my list of things to get,” she said breathily, her mouth curving up into a knowing grin. She was fully aware of how worked up he was now, and she shifted ever so slightly against him, rubbing up against his hard length barely contained by these damn tight pants. “I need more of that in my life.”

“Consider it done, love,” he said, his voice so gruff it was unrecognizable. “When we finally get home, you choose the make and it’s yours.”

“You don’t have to do that, Killian,” Emma said, suddenly more serious, like it had never dawned on her that he would gift her such a thing. “A bike is a big deal, and I’m perfectly capable of buying my own. I’ll just find a job and save for a while. I’ve done it before.”

“Aye, love, there’s no doubt you have and that you can. You can do anything you set your brilliant mind to,” he agreed, taking the hand that was placed against his heart and kissing it tenderly. He watched her swallow harshly but her eyes never left his face as she took him in with full consideration. “If it means a lot to you that you do it on your own, so be it. I will never stand in the way of what you wish. I only meant that you’re not on your own any more Emma, and I need – no, damn it, I want - to take care of you, as much as you’ll let me.”

A soft and understanding smile tugged at Emma’s lips once more that warmed into a true smirk as she quietly thought to herself. He bit his tongue, barely refraining from asking what exactly she was thinking, but he didn’t want to overpower her. He may have the urge to share absolutely everything with Emma, and to care for her, provide for her, and protect her all the days of his life, but he would not crowd her. He couldn’t bear to pressure her or make her feel suffocated. This wasn’t about taking control from her for his own gain, it was just… well he couldn’t really explain. He was just so damn protective and so desirous to make sure she had everything she wanted and more. And it only felt fair to that part of himself, for she was truly the master of their fates, holding his heart and hopes in her delicate hands.

“Someday I’m going to really push you,” she said and his brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m going to push you past the perfect gentleman you always tend to be.”

“I’m just trying to be what you deserve, love,” he said, his voice betraying his concern at her characterization. Did she think he was faking with her? He wasn’t, he was just trying not to fuck everything up before it could really take flight.

“I know,” she agreed, running her fingers along his brow and pushing back the hair that was growing longer each day and starting to fall across his face. The lightness of her touch made sparks fly under his skin. The fondness in her voice swept away his fears, and left only her truth in its wake. “And I love that, I really do. It means the world to me how much you care. But I’m dying to see what happens when you just let go. When you follow your instincts, those baser ones, the ones that run just a shade or two darker than this.”

Her words were an invitation that a part of him craved. She was right after all, he did want more. He wanted to claim her and be so intertwined that he didn’t know where he ended and she began. He hated any kind of boundary between them, craved every moment that he held her close, and he wanted to give her everything she could ever want. In is ideal world, Emma did only what she loved and what she wanted, and as flashes of what that might look like came to mind he felt a yearning for more. Marriage, babies, a family. A whole long and lovely life where he was her man and she was his everything.

“We’ll get there,” she said, pulling him back from his thoughts and kissing him gently again. “Every day we get closer, you know?”

He could only nod and assure her that he knew exactly what she meant. As they came back on the bike with him once again driving, he allowed those thoughts to linger. Things were so good between them right now, so much more than he’d ever imagined. Every day they had only further cemented the bond between them, and the journey out here had been amazing even if they were on the run.

Well, technically they weren’t really ‘running’, for there was no one with the ability to chase them. Killian had been assured that the Crocodile and his strongest fixers were all in custody, and he’d told Emma as much a few days prior. Some of that information had been disclosed by untraceable messages from Will, but there were also numerous stories in the press. Even in the far reaches of Nebraska nothingness, the Crocodile’s capture had made the papers. He was one of the most wanted man in the country and right now he was in jail, rotting in a cell, despite his army of crooked cops purchased to keep him free. He was no doubt furious at this unexpected downfall, but none the wiser of their actions. Everyone not arrested in the organization had since dispersed, all of the higher ups in Gold’s command and business had gone to ground and Will promised that their case was solid and now even stronger in the face of Gold’s takedown. The bust was clean and they had at least a little while where the monster would be held captive without even a chance of bond or bail or trial.

Only with that confidence that no one suspected what he’d done and that Gold was very much occupied could Killian breathe easy, and even then it was only because of Emma. She always brought him strength, even when she didn’t realize all the parts at play. That peace was one of the most beautiful gifts she gave him, and it carried through not just the rest of their ride, but also through their arrival at the safe house, their making some dinner, and then falling into bed together. Hours passed, and in all that time Killian felt nothing short of elation. He was complete, with this beautiful woman here in his arms, and he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever gotten this lucky. Loving her and having her love in return was the honor of his life, no question about it.

There was only one thing that Killian felt weighing on him right now, and it was one last truth he had to tell before they got back home. He wouldn’t call this revelation a secret per se, because it wasn’t, not really. It was more an oversight in his disclosures to Emma. The truth about where they were going and the life that awaited them had not been fully explained, and though he’d been putting off that conversation for a few days, he finally felt like it might be time to go there. As if she could tell he had something on his mind, Emma glanced over her bare shoulder to him and smiled, looking like a goddess fallen to this world just for him. He worried about dulling that smile, but in his heart he knew she’d accept this. He just had to man up and tell her already.

“Take a walk with me, love,” he pleaded and she blinked up at him from where she lay in this bed, her jade eyes cloudy with lust and confusion. She no doubt believed they were in for the night, and he had too when he drew her in here to ravish her fully, but he had a sudden urge for a change of scene. What he wanted to tell her demanded something different, and he had an idea of how to cushion this could-be blow.

“Now?” she asked.

“Aye, Swan,” he chuckled. “I’ve something to tell you.”

“Say no more,” Emma said, pushing up and jumping out of bed. His body tightened at the sight of her creamy skin and her beautiful body, but he couldn’t get sidetracked. There was time for that later, for now he too had to throw something on and head out to this moment he’d been avoiding for some time.  

A few minutes later they were out in the grounds of the property, further away from the house they were staying in, and nowhere near any kind of neighbors. Frogs croaked out their evening tune as the gentle hum of insects sounded out in the night. A subtle breeze washed over the overgrown grasses out front, but here, behind the home was a well worn patch of land that was soft and stable. They naturally found a place to sit, and lay out, neither of them afraid to be directly on the ground. Out here, under the big black sky dotted with stars so very far away, it felt the opposite of New York, and, Killian supposed, it was as good a place as any to tell Emma the whole truth.  

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay, Killian,” Emma said, squeezing his hand. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know, love. I know. It’s just… hard to know where to begin exactly.”

“Well, who is it about?”

“My brothers,” Killian said and Emma nodded in recollection.

“Liam… who we’re heading to now. Wait, you said brothers? Like more than one?”

Killian nodded. “Aye, I’ve more than one. Liam is my only biological brother, my only living kin. But the others, well there were eight at last count. Could be more by now.”

“Eight?” she squeaked, followed closely by the question, “And wait, there could be more? What does that even mean?”

“They’re my club brothers, Emma.”

“Club brothers,” she replied, still not following. “What club?”

“Emma, I…” he trailed off but then just put it out there, though perhaps not in the clearest way. “I’m a patched in member of the Land Pirates, Big Sur.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, truly apologetic for her continued lack of understanding. “I’m not getting this. Should I know these… Land Pirates?”

“It’s an MC. A motorcycle club.” Finally some sort of recognition crossed her features, and just as he’d worried there was concern written all over her face.

“Please tell me motorcycle ‘club’ is different from motorcycle ‘gang,’” Emma begged after a few moments of taking in his words. “I meant what I said, Killian, I’m with you all the way, but if we’re just going from one gang to another I -,”

“It’s definitely different,” he assured her, pulling her into his arms. “My brothers aren’t involved in anything illegal. At least not professionally. I can’t speak to the past or what happens when things get dodgy, but that’s hardly the norm. The club owns a number of businesses in our small town and the ones around them. It was different when my Dad was leading, but Liam changed all that.”

Killian proceeded to fill Emma in on the whole truth, about how he’d been born into his father’s world but how his mother took him and Liam away when they were small. They moved back to her country for a while, for it took an ocean apart for Meera Jones to feel free of her husband. Much of his life across the pond was something that Emma knew about. In their times together preciously, he’d shared countless memories of his life with his Mum with her. What Emma didn’t realize was that their mother’s death, which came when he was ten, pushed him and Liam back to his father once more. There were no other relatives to take them, and so they’d been shipped back to America and were raised in the club, seeing a far less ethical life than the one Liam was now trying to make.

In its heyday, or as Killian considered it the darkest times, the Land Pirates ran anything and everything to make a buck. Guns, drugs, women. It was just as bad as Gold’s work but without the same rate of success or the appearance of grandeur. His father was an adrenaline junky, addicted to danger, money, women and booze. All of it was constantly present, and only when Liam and Killian enlisted did either of them get free of it. The military became a lifeline for them both, to leave that life behind. War was preferable to the moral corruption that resided in the MC.

“It sounds truly horrible,” Emma affirmed when he’d told her this, and he knew she understood the gravity of his statement. He’d also confessed how his time in the service had been brutal, so to say he preferred that to life before painted a bleak picture to be sure. “But I don’t understand. If that was what this club stood for, if it was as bad as it sounds, then why would you, uh what was the term, patch in?”

“Aye,” he said, impressed that she recalled that small phrase in the midst of much larger revelations. “My father died some years back, and the club pretty much crumbled in his absence. We were glad for that, at least I was. The Jones men had done enough damage. The world was better off without our whole bloody mess. But my father’s demise didn’t come without consequences. The club’s absence left a hole for others to try and come in. Other crews saw the money to be made in our part of the world and they pounced on the chance, and these men were just as malicious as Brennan but with even better follow through. Before long, the rest of the town was being taken over. People with no ties to the club were put in danger and told they needed to submit or give up the homes they’d known. Liam saw that and couldn’t stand for it. So he made a choice. He took over as Pres and rebuilt from the ashes.”

“I can’t imagine that was easy.”

It wasn’t. The fighting had been rough, and Killian and Liam, as well as the other men Liam had recruited had not been on the right side of the law even if they were preserving true justice. He wouldn’t burden Emma with the details unless she asked, but she seemed to take his agreement as enough, pivoting to another thought instead of lingering in the past.

“You make it all sound so…” He held his breath, afraid of what she would say. “Honorable.”

“My brother would be proud to hear you say that, love. He’s a man driven by honor at all times and in all ways. He would never feel peace unless we did something to mend the scars of Brennan’s time here.”

“It must have been hard to live in the shadow of your father’s misdeeds,” Emma said, running her hands along his arm. “For both of you.”

“Aye,” he agreed, not bothering to deny that. “But of the two of us Liam has always been the better man.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Emma said vehemently.

“You should,” Killian said, not trying to be down on himself, but stating a fact he’d truly believed his whole life.

“I won’t,” she countered and in spite of himself Killian laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he kept a hold on her. They lay together breathing each other in for some time, before Emma posed a question they’d always danced around but never explicitly broached. “So if the club is better now, why did you leave them? Why not stay with your family and help them make good?”

“You mean why in the world was I wrapped up with Gold in New York?” She nodded. “It’s simple really. Liam’s route to peace was in facing the demons of our father, but I was much more tied to scars of a different kind. You see, Gold stole from me well before I made it to New York. He killed the only woman I ever loved.” Emma looked up at him, shocked and saddened for his pain as he clarified. “My mother.”

“Oh Killian,” she said hugging him close, and though he expected her to ask for all the details of his mother’s death, she didn’t. She just held him, running her hands along his body with affection and support.

It brought tears to his eyes, to have a woman who accepted him this way. Who had heard so much, but was still beside him. Her patience was a sign of her strength and her trust, and whether she knew it or not she was healing him and his scars more than anything else ever could. He knew he’d come to tell her the whole story of his Mum someday, and soon, but the fact that he didn’t have to do so right now meant the world. Disclosing the sins of his father was enough for one night. The terrible tale of losing his mother could wait.

He couldn’t be exactly sure how long they remained out there, taking in the deep night sky as they quietly remained together. All Killian knew was that Emma stayed pressed against him, holding tight and centering him with the sound of her soft breathing and the steady beat of her heart. It beat out in time with his, a gentle rhythm despite the pain of both their pasts. How he had ever lived without this he did not know, but he knew he’d never see another day without her. Because no matter what came next, he was hell bent on staying with his Swan, building their life together and making new memories that healed any and all darkness from the past.

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just another little glimpse into this journey out west. I am enjoying these kind of glimpses into Emma and Killian, and next chapter will bring a final trip moment that will mean a lot for our story. After that we get to see Emma meet Killian’s brothers and that should be fun too. Anyway, thanks to all of you for reading and I would love to hear what you think! Sending you all my best and hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

[faewhump]

Unseelie Pet: 4. Chapter

Malachi just wanted to spend a relaxed evening with his new pet, but of course Alex had to ruin it.

Previous Masterlist Next

Content warnings: drugging (faerie food), choking, non-consensual touching (not sexual), mentions of noncon, dehumanisation

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog

Alex almost felt like he was floating as he followed Malachi through the winding corridors of the palace. In contrast to the way the servants had brought him to the dining room, Malachi hadn’t bound nor blindfolded him and simply walked ahead, confidently expecting him to follow. Alex had no illusions about his non-existent chances to escape. Malachi would catch him immediately if he tried to run, and although Alex generally wasn’t to be underestimated in combat, he knew that he wouldn’t last against a High Fae even for a minute.

Usually he’d be very anxious about what Malachi was planning, but right now the faerie food kept his worries subdued. He tried to remember the way through the corridors, but their path was confusing, and he kept getting distracted by the stunning architecture and glittering jewels inlaid in the walls. Before he knew it an armoured Court guard opened a door for them, and they were back in his room.

“Go kneel on the pillow over there,” Malachi ordered, gesturing towards a big sitting pillow in front of the armchair, but Alex refused and didn’t move.

With a sigh Malachi placed a firm hand on the back of Alex’s neck and pushed him towards the pillow, then shoved down.  Alex tried to keep standing, straining against the Fae with all his strength, but soon his knees buckled and he sat. The humiliation brought tears to his eyes, he felt so helplessly at Malachi’s mercy, there was simply nothing he could do to stop this Fae. He blinked the tears away; he wouldn’t cry in front of Malachi again.

Alex was worried about what Malachi might do next, he wanted nothing more than to hide, but his mind was sluggish and his body heavy, the damned faerie food still holding him tightly in its grip. Nervously, he heard Malachi open a drawer, then sit in the armchair behind him. He flinched when something touched his head, and it took him a moment to realise that it was a comb. Malachi was combing his hair.

“Hold still,” Malachi admonished when Alex confusedly tried to turn his head to look at the Fae.

“Why…?” Alex asked, he didn’t understand why Malachi was doing this, but had to admit that sensations of the comb being steadily threaded through his hair weren’t too bad. It almost felt… soothing, in a way.

“Your beautiful hair was all messy after your bath,” Malachi explained. “Silly human, not even able to properly take care of yourself. But that’s alright, I don’t mind taking care of my pet. And you were quite good for me tonight as well. Not even close to perfect, of course, but it’s a start.”

Alex didn’t know what to say to that, he had the distinctive feeling that he should be offended but didn’t have the energy to argue. The steady scratching of the comb was relaxing, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning back against Malachi’s legs. All in all, he was quite surprised at how little he’d been hurt so far, and only as a punishment for running away, not simply because Malachi had been bored. But then again, he’d only been his for a day now. Of course the Fae wouldn’t want to break his new pet so soon.

So just obey, a part of him whispered, maybe you won’t be hurt then.

He shook his head, no, he couldn’t think like that. If he started down that way, he wouldn’t ever get away, he'd already seen the way other Fae’s pets looked. Their mouths had been smiling, but their eyes… He shuddered internally just thinking of how empty they’d looked, well aware that this could be his fate as well. Completely broken and brainwashed, nothing but a mindless plaything for his master…

He had to fight at all costs, even if it hurt. He couldn’t give in, especially not since that was exactly what Malachi wanted. Alex had only known the Fae for a day now, but he already hated him. Balling his hands into fists he tried to centre himself, using the pain caused by his fingernails digging into his skin as a focus. The combing that had been relaxing before now felt unbearable.

Alex cursed the faerie food again, it was incredibly tempting, but he had to avoid eating so much, it was influencing his mind. He just had no idea how to say ‘no’ without getting hurt, and starving himself wasn’t the best option either. It would make him slow and even more helpless, he needed to eat to be ready to run at any moment. He just couldn’t win; he’d planned to steal some knifes from the table but hadn’t even gotten to touch any. It was hopeless.

The tears he’d been holding back fell slowly as he quietly began to cry.

Malachi tilted Alex’s head back with a hand in his hair when he noticed the silent sobs going through his body. “What’s the matter, pet?”

“I want to go home,” Alex said miserably. “Please Malachi, let me go home.”

“This is for the best, trust me.” Malachi gently wiped a tear from Alex’s cheek. “You belong here now, to me.”

“Please,” Alex repeated, hating how small and whiny his voice sounded.

“Now, generally I would encourage you to beg, for it is quite delightful. But this is one thing I will never bulge on.”

“But I have friends and family, they’ll be worried sick about me.” There weren’t really that many, he could count his friends on less than a hand and had barely spoken his parents since he came back from Rían, but it didn’t hurt to exaggerate a little.

“Forget those people,” Malachi said sharply. “I am the only one you need. None of your life before matters. You are mine now.”

Suddenly everything was overwhelming, Alex couldn’t bear to be touched anymore, he had to get away. He jumped up and ran towards the window, but of course didn’t get very far. Malachi moved faster than anyone should possibly have any right to be, grabbed Alex by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

Alex’s breath left his body in a gasp and he chocked, struggling to breath and trying to claw at Malachi’s fingers. The Fae showed no signs of strain as he held Alex aloft by his throat, avoiding the kicking legs without any effort.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Kieran,” Malachi said reproachfully. “I thought you would know better by now than trying to run away from me, didn’t we just have this earlier today? I know that time seems to be passing faster for humans, but this morning can't seem so far away to you that you already forgot your lesson, can it?”

Alex couldn’t reply, he weakly clawed at Malachi’s hand, unable to breathe. His lungs burned and his vision was going dark. He was utterly terrified, already seeing himself lying on the floor with a broken neck, the Fae lifted him like it was nothing, and he couldn’t breathe, he just couldn’t breathe, he was going to choke…

Moments before Alex would have fallen unconscious Malachi dropped him. Alex’s legs gave out and he fell to the floor, gasping for air. His throat felt like it was being stabbed from the inside, and he was sure that it would bruise.

“Tell me, pet, do you need another reminder to be grateful for what I’m giving you?” Malachi asked, towering over Alex.

“No,” Alex croaked, his fear greater than the pain in his throat.

“No, what?”

Still pulling in air desperately Alex looked up at the Fae. “I don’t need another reminder.”

Malachi raised an eyebrow.

“I’m – I’m grateful,” Alex stammered. “I’m grateful for what you’re giving me – and – and I’m sorry for trying to run. Please, I’m sorry.”

Immediately, Malachi’s body language relaxed. He crouched down beside Alex and ran a hand over his back.

“Very well said, my dear,” Malachi said, his voice kind and gentle. “I’m sorry too that I had to scare you like that, but I’m sure you understand the necessity.”

Alex flinched away from Malachi’s touch and looked at him with fear, the rapid changes between kindness and violence confused him.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Malachi crooned and pulled Alex tightly into his arms. “You don’t have to be scared, you’re safe with me.”

Alex froze, he didn’t know how to react.

“Besides, it is rude to flinch back from your owner,” Malachi continued. “You are mine now. Are you smart enough to understand that?”

Alex swallowed and nodded. He was sitting on the floor, pulled close against Malachi as he gently rubbed circles into his back. Sagging forward Alex crumpled in on himself, hiding his face in the fabric of Malachi’s overcoat. He didn’t know how to deal with this situation, the Fae’s temporary kindness was the worst thing. And it almost was even more horrible how relieving it felt.

“Will you be good and behave now?” Malachi asked.

Alex hated himself so much when he meekly said, “Yes.”

“Good boy,” Malachi praised and leaned back, softly brushing the hair out of Alex’s face.

Hesitantly, Alex lifted his eyes to look at Malachi, clearly frightened.

Malachi smiled softly. “It’ll be alright,” he murmured and kissed his forehead.

Alex looked away; he didn’t want it to be alright. But for now he had to make the Fae believe that he won, so that he’d be less vigilant and leave an opening for Alex to escape. He had to make a show of ‘being good’, but it was hard to tolerate Malachi’s hands stroking the side of his face instead of twisting away.

Eventually, Malachi stood up. “Let’s get you to bed,” he decided.

That made Alex freeze again, but he forced himself up and walked over to where Malachi was standing next to the bed, smiling as always. Alex didn’t know what the Fae expected of him now, so he simply stood tensely in front of Malachi, who motioned him to get on the bed. Slowly, he sat down and stared at the floor, unwilling to look at Malachi. If this was going where he thought it was, he didn’t want to give the Fae the pleasure of seeing the terror he felt.

He still couldn’t stop himself from flinch away violently and whimpering in fear when Malachi touched his shoulder, causing the Fae to laugh quietly.

“Don’t worry your silly little head, I won’t do anything of the sort with you until you are begging me to,” Malachi said, looking through the reason for Alex’s apprehension immediately.

Alex huffed. “That will never happen.”

“Never is a horribly long time and therefore a word that shouldn't be used.” He smiled knowingly. “You will change your mind soon enough.”

Malachi gestured for Alex to lie in the bed properly, then covered him with the blanket. Alex felt like he was being treated like a child, but he was too relieved to be angry.

“Good night, Kieran,” Malachi said, gently stroking over Alex’s head one last time. “Sleep well. I hope you will be better behaved tomorrow.”

[wherewindysurgeswend]

deep heart’s core: chapter five

chapter 1

chapter 2  

chapter 3

chapter 4

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed): @tunes-on-a-typewriter @rememberedkisses​

Margaret couldn’t stay mad at Larry forever, so she stopped trying after a few hours. Kathleen had also more or less given up on her dislike of Margaret, rationalizing that since Margaret had stood up for her, she couldn’t be all bad. After much coaxing, Anna had finally managed to get someone — in this case, Larry, with multiple interjections and corrections from Margaret — to explain what had happened. When the story was over, she looked at the three of them in bemused silence. “But why in the world would you think that was a good idea?” she finally said after a long moment. Kathleen shrugged.

“It seemed like it might be fun. And besides, now I know my theory works.” Anna was tempted to say something disapproving, but she kept herself in check. Larry looked at his watch. “Well,” he said, “it’s nearly lunchtime. Shall we go?” He gestured to Margaret to follow him and the two walked off towards the first-class dining hall. Anna and Kathleen headed to the second class dining hall.

The dining hall was crowded and noisy. Anna and Kathleen found their way to their usual table, narrowly avoiding colliding with a busboy, and sat down next to Kathleen’s parents. ‘Hello girls,” said Florence, “Have a nice morning?” Anna and Kathleen looked at each other. “Yes,” said Anna, as convincingly as possible, “Not very eventful.” she could see Kathleen stifling a giggle.

The waiter put a bowl of vegetable soup and two saltine crackers in front of Anna. She was adding salt and pepper to the soup when she heard what sounded like an argument happening at the entrance of the dining hall. One of the voices sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She turned her head to see what was going on. “Larry?” she said aloud when she saw who was there. Kathleen, who had been talking about politics with her father and carefully taking all the carrots out of her soup (she hated carrots) looked up and saw her friend. She called his name loudly enough for him to hear and then, when he was looking at her, motioned for him to come join them. Joseph and Florence Lynch, who hadn’t met Larry, looked at each in confusion. Larry said something Anna couldn’t quite hear to the man he was arguing with. Whatever he had said seemed to win him the argument, and he hurried over to the table. Up close, Anna noticed that he seemed to be out of breath, like he’d been running. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it in Kathleen’s face. “Do you see this?” he asked, “It’s a disaster! What the hell are we going to do?”

“Of course I don’t see it, Einstein,” said Kathleen, “You keep waving it around, and besides, I don’t have my glasses on. Give me that.” she grabbed the piece of paper, put on her glasses, and read it. Anna saw her eyes widen in disbelief. “No!” she said incredulously to Larry when she was finished. Larry nodded sadly.

“Yes,” he said resignedly. 

“But I thought your uncle said —”

“He was wrong.”

“But what are we going to —”

“What can we do?” 

“Surely there’s something!” Larry shook his head. Joseph Lynch, who had been looking on in complete confusion, finally spoke up. “For heaven’s sake, will someone just tell me what’s going on? And who in the world is this?” he gestured vaguely toward Larry. 

“Lawrence Sterling Kittredge, Jr. at your service, sir,” said Larry, holding out his hand for him to shake. Joseph eyed him suspiciously then turned back to his daughter. “What the hell is going on, Kath?” 

While Kathleen was recounting the whole story to her parents, Larry turned to Anna. “Evening, Miss Byrne,” he said.

“Anna. And it’s half past noon.”

“I know. I just thought ‘evening’ had more charm to it.” Anna couldn’t help laughing.

“Fair enough. So, what’s going on?” “This,” he said, handing the piece of paper to Anna, who read it. It was a telegram addressed to Larry’s uncle and signed Margaret Sterling Kittredge. At first this puzzled Anna: why would Margaret be sending telegrams to her father, who was on the same boat as her? And if she did, why would it be cause for such alarm? But she quickly realized that this was from the other Margaret Kittredge: the much-feared matriarch. But it was the content of the telegram, not its author, that made Anna understand what the commotion was about. “She’s meeting you in Paris?” she asked Larry. Larry nodded.

“Yes. I guess it stupid to think she would just let it go. She never misses an opportunity to make me squirm.” He said the last part with a bitterness that surprised Anna. 

“This is bad, isn’t it? I mean, she’ll want to meet Kathleen. How’s that going to go?” Larry shrugged. “Guess so. Not much we can do about it now. I suppose if anyone can charm my grandmother it’s Kathleen.” Anna had to admit that part was true. People just liked Kathleen. Still, from what she had heard about Larry’s grandmother, she wouldn’t want her friend to have to confront her. “But… What are you going to tell her? Admit you lied?” Larry laughed, but he didn’t seem happy. “Are you kidding? She’ll eat me alive — eat both of us alive. No, I suppose we’ll just have to keep up the charade a little longer — just long enough for Kath to convince her she’s not going to blackmail anyone, and —” 

“Blackmail?” said Kathleen, who had happened to catch a word of what Larry had said, from across the table, “Who are you blackmailing? Can I come?”

“What was that you said about Kath convincing your grandmother she wasn’t going to blackmail anyone, Larry?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t blackmail Larry’s grandmother. I thought maybe you had dirt on some awful person and I wanted to help you extort them.”

“You’re really not helping your case, Kath.”

“Case? Who’s got a case? I just like helping my friends, is all.”

“That’s our Kath,” said Larry drily, “always ready with a helping hand.”

“I’ll have you know, Lawrence, that I am a kind and generous person and I did not come here to have aspersions cast on my character in such a way as this,” said Kathleen in mock offense. 

“I suppose you didn’t, since you came here to have lunch,” Larry shot back. Kathleen rolled her eyes at him.  “If you must make jokes, Larry, at least make good ones.”

“Who says my jokes aren’t good? Anna’s laughing, isn’t she?”

“Anna laughed for four solid minutes an hour ago when Margaret mispronounced ‘picturesque’ as ‘picture-askew.’ I don’t think Anna laughing at something proves it’s funny.” Anna crumpled up a paper napkin and tossed it at Kathleen. “If you don’t want me implying you would blackmail people then you shouldn’t imply I don’t know what is and isn’t funny.”

“Luke 6:22: ‘Blessed are you when men hate you, and ostracize you, and insult you, and scorn your name as evil, for the sake of the Son of Man. Be glad in that day and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven. For in the same way their fathers used to treat the prophets.’”

“I’m Jewish, Kath. Just tell me I’m afraid of the truth like a normal person instead of quoting scripture at me like some kind of deranged evangelist.”

“Fine. You’re afraid of the truth.”

“No, I’m not, but I appreciate the effort. Larry’s joke was funny, end of discussion.”

“I must say, Annabelle —”

“Not my name.”

“That’s irrelevant. I thought we were friends, but now I find you have betrayed me. Oh, cruel fate!”

“My apologies. Anyway, I should be going now. I have to finish that letter to my mother. Good luck with… well, whatever this is.” She got up and left.

“Does Margaret know?” Kathleen asked Larry.

“I don’t know. I suppose her father will have told her.”

“She’s never going to let you live this down, is she?”

“Margaret has never let me live anything down in my life. If you hang around her long enough you’ll know about every humiliating thing I’ve ever done.”

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

And Yet, Here We Are (pt4)

One day... one day the fluff will come... but it is not this day.

More voiceless!Jaskier because I am apparently incapable of not trying to get this story out rn, apparently?

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) Now on AO3

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

“We should get moving,” Geralt said, pushing himself to his feet and offering Jaskier a hand up. “Might be a job in town I can take.”

Right. Because Geralt was still a witcher, and unlike their usual travel arrangement where Jaskier could make enough money to pay his own way (and even Geralt's if money was tight and there weren't any monsters to kill), Jaskier was left relying on the handful of coins he had left and whatever Geralt had or could scrape up. Jaskier pulled in on himself, his expression going pinched, an ache spreading in his chest.

He didn't have any plans to leave Geralt, obviously, especially since the witcher had such a determination to find a way to get his voice back, but it hadn't really hit him that he didn't have much of a choice. Or that Geralt, who was despite appearances and protestations a kind and compassionate person, couldn't leave him in good conscience even if he hadn't already determined to fix things.

It didn't change anything, not really, but it rankled, to think about how few skills he had and how impossible it would be for him to survive right now if he went off on his own.

Geralt crouched across the campsite, gathering his things into his pack until he glanced up at Jaskier and frowned, his eyes searching Jaskier's face. Jaskier moved jerkily, methodically packing up what few of his possessions had been unpacked last night, not wanting to be subject to the scrutiny - or at least not to be aware of it.

"All right, Jaskier?" Geralt asked, his frown clear in his tone.

Yeah, Jaskier said instinctively, then slowly stilled, hands hanging limply at his sides. He hadn't actually tried to say anything since that first day, and the shape of the easy response in his mouth without any sound but the soft exhalation of breath...

"Jaskier?" Geralt repeated, growing concern in his voice. Jaskier waved him off without turning around, resumed his packing and tried to ignore the ache in his chest spreading and intensifying until he was surprised he was still moving and could do anything other than curl into a ball and gasp for air. He couldn't hear Geralt move for a few seconds, but then he heard the familiar sound of Geralt hoisting Roach's saddle up onto the mare's back, and Jaskier let out soft sigh. Geralt was being attentive and gentle and part of Jaskier was desperate for it. But part of him just kept thinking about how he doesn't know of anything that could undo a djinn's magic and how he was pretty sure Geralt didn't either.

They'd travelled together on and off for over a decade, but they'd always spent a few weeks here and there apart, never mind the months in the winter that Geralt would return to Kaer Morhen for whatever it was witchers did all winter. Before he found Geralt at the lake, they hadn't seen each other in nearly a month. Now Geralt had a self-imposed responsibility to fix this, and a mute and relatively helpless Jaskier who couldn't really go off on his own or be left behind for very long at a time.

How long until Geralt started to resent him, and every way he was about to seriously change Geralt's lifestyle in a way he hadn't before?

Jaskier shook himself out of that line of thought after what felt like only a few moments' thought, but must have been longer, because Roach was saddled and packed, the ashes of the fire buried, and he was standing empty-handed in front of his lute case. He couldn't tell if he'd just mindlessly continued to help striking camp or if Geralt had done it around him. He sucked in a sharp breath, and picked up the case so he wasn't left just standing there staring dumbly at it; hopefully that sort of moment wasn't going to become common in his life now.

He started to sling it over his shoulder, but Geralt's hand on his arm stopped him. He frowned up at Geralt, confused, but all the other man did was take the lute case from him, near-reverently, and then went to where Roach stood and carefully but securely lashed it to the top of their packs. Jaskier didn't know how to feel, seeing it up there instead of feeling the weight of it against his back. It was his, it was part of him as much as-- well, as much as his voice had been. Might as well be missing that as well, right?

All the same, as they returned to the road and silently began the last leg to the next town, Jaskier felt like he could breathe better without the reminder of it slung over his shoulder.

The first order of business, according to Geralt, was getting a room at the inn, then Geralt would ask around about work.

"You need paper," Geralt said as they reached the outskirts of the town - really it was barely a village from the looks of it, and Jaskier had the sinking feeling they may not have much luck on that front. "But a room and food comes first," Geralt continued. "And we don't have enough for both yet. So I'll find a lead on work, and we'll get paper after I get paid."

Jaskier had the fleeting thought that this was probably the most explicit Geralt had ever been with him about plans, and oh it only took this to get him to communicate even a little bit? But that wasn't fair - Geralt was aware that Jaskier couldn't exactly ask for more details or clarification if he was as vague or reticent as he usually was, and was trying to make up for it. It was disappointing to hear, but it wasn't like there was much to argue, or much ability he had to argue even if he wanted to. Maybe he could throw a temper-tantrum like a spoiled five-year-old and stomp his feet and refuse to move, but he could use some warm food and a drink, so instead he simply silently followed Geralt as he made his way to the one tiny inn in the village.

Jaskier was used to - when he wasn't exhausted - entering inns a few seconds ahead of Geralt with his lute already out of her case, bombastic and enthusiastic and charming. It helped set people a little bit more at ease when it came to Geralt, or at least distracted them. People had gotten a sight more accepting after "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" had caught on, but they still got nervous, and couldn't generally said to be friendly. Coming in silently on Geralt's heels was unnerving, especially given the not especially friendly looks they got from the locals. Mostly directed at Geralt, admittedly, but a few of them looked at him with narrowed eyes, like he was suspect himself simply for being in a witcher's company. He got that look sometimes anyway, but most folk were willing to roll their eyes and let him be at least, an eccentric bard who writes fantastic songs and ballads.

It was hard to accept that he wasn't that, anymore.

"Only got one room free," the innkeeper was saying to Geralt, and Jaskier found himself nervously closing the distance between himself and Geralt under the weight of the locals' gazes.

"It's fine," Geralt said, putting some coins on the counter. "Know of anyone with my particular kind of problem?"

"Not I," she responded, sweeping the coins into her pocket and retrieving a key, heading to the stairs to show them to their room. "Tanner just got back from the next town over. Bigger there, got a manor house and all. He might've heard something."

"Appreciate it," Geralt rumbled, and the innkeeper unlocked one of two doors at the top of the stairs. Jaskier smiled gratefully at her at she stepped back to let them enter. Jaskier entered the small room, clean at least, and set his bag and lute down at the foot of the bed. "Can my friend get some food and an ale when he comes down?"

"Sure," she said easily, pocketing another coin as Jaskier turned around. "Just cold sliced chicken sandwiches until supper's cooked, but the bread's fresh."

"Fine," Geralt said, then added as the innkeeper turned to leave, "Thank you." He was clearly working to be more polite, if nothing else, and Jaskier wondered if it was because he felt self-conscious without Jaskier able to be charming and polite, or if he was worried that Jaskier would have trouble if he was too grumpy. Jaskier wasn't sure he wouldn't have trouble anyway, but no point going down that particular road.

Geralt didn't bother to close the door, just checked the straps of his swords, probably more out of habit than an expectation of running into trouble. Or at least, Jaskier hoped so. "I'll go see the tanner," he said. "Let you know if I get any good leads. Might head to the next town if it's close enough and it sounds worthwhile." Jaskier grimaced, thinking about the couple of days minimum that would take, and it didn't sound like he planned to take Jaskier with him. Geralt pressed his lips together. "It's cheaper to keep a room here," he explained. "And probably safer. Just stick to the village proper. I'll let you know if I find anything before I go anywhere."

Jaskier sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. He understood the request to stay inside the village, since he didn't have much in the way of combat abilities, and now he couldn't even shout for help should something happen. And of course Geralt would assume something would happen - in his defense, they often did when he was around. Jaskier had gotten through a lot of his life that Geralt was not around for with a minimum of issues or near-death experiences, but he wasn't interested in tempting fate either.

"I know," Geralt said, voice softening from his business voice to something sympathetic and gentle. "You shouldn't have to be confined even that much. I'm just--"

Jaskier waved him off, exasperated. There was no need for Geralt to explain, especially sounding so much like he cared. Which obviously he did, Jaskier knew he was about the closest thing he had to a friend outside the witchers themselves, but his voice going soft like that just made Jaskier hope too much.

"All right," Geralt relented. "Go eat something. Be back soon one way or another."

Jaskier waited until Geralt had turned and had started down the stairs before he flopped back onto the bed, letting it support him as he convinced himself it was a good idea to go downstairs and get the food and drink Geralt had already paid for. The bed wasn't the nicest, but it was softer than his bedroll, and he was already feeling exhausted somehow despite only walking for a few hours and not doing anything. Maybe he could just sleep until Geralt got back. Then he wouldn't have to think about... well, any of it.

It was tempting, and he almost gave in to the desire, but the door was open and Geralt had paid for the food already and would probably fuss if he hadn't eaten yet when he got back from his search for rumors of paying monster hunting jobs. Jaskier would've groaned as he sat up and pushed himself to his feet, if he could've, and made his way downstairs reluctantly.

"Ah," the innkeeper said when she saw him at the bottom of the stairs. "You get yourself a seat, I'll have food right over for you, lad." Jaskier thought privately that the innkeeper didn't look that much older than him, probably barely 40, but just nodded and found the unoccupied table the closest to being in a corner to tuck himself up in, a ways away from other patrons, who all seemed to be sizing him up.

A few seconds of subdued conversation passed before one of men called out, "'Ey, boy!" Jaskier glanced up despite himself. At least he only looked curious and a little... hopeful? "You that bard what travels 'round with the White Wolf?" Ah. They were hoping for a performance, and Jaskier couldn't breathe, wanted to claw his skin off and disappear. Everything was wrong, and people knew what he looked like, or at least what Geralt looked like, and--

"Oh, leave the boy alone," the innkeeper scolded as she came over with a plate and a mug. "Even if he were, he'd let you know if he were in the mood to play for your stingy arse." The man grumbled, but turned back to his drink, and Jaskier gave the woman a crooked grateful smile that he hoped expressed how much he didn't want to have to answer that question. "You never mind them," she said. "Nosy lot, but they don't mean no harm. You need anything else, dear?" Jaskier shook his head, and she hesitated for a moment, maybe wondering why he hadn't said anything since he walked in, but turned without asking, stopping by the curious man's table to scold him further in a whisper.

Whatever conclusion she'd come to about why he was so quiet, Jaskier decided he liked her quite a lot.

He was done with the sandwich and halfway through his ale when Geralt came striding back in and scanned the room until his eyes landed on Jaskier. As purposeful as he seemed making his way to the table, Jaskier could only guess he'd gotten a good lead.

"Next town over has a wraith," Geralt said gruffly, and Jaskier nodded in understanding. Geralt took his coin purse off his belt and pushed it over to Jaskier. "Should only be a couple days, four at the most." He hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, but laughter broke out at a nearby table and apparently reminded him that they weren't alone in the woods. Jaskier wondered what he'd wanted to say. Instead, Geralt just clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and walked out of the inn.

Jaskier swallowed hard, facing the prospect of a silent few days alone in this village he didn't even know the name of, praying to any god that would listen that Geralt would be all right and come back. He tossed back the rest of his ale and grabbed the coin purse as he stood and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Everything all right, luv?" the innkeeper asked, apparently concerned, and he managed a tight smile and a nod. He didn't want to be down there anymore, with people who might ask questions, even just to be friendly. He didn't want to risk gossip about him showing up with Geralt leading to more questions about whether or not he was 'that bard'.

He closed and locked the door, then flopped face-down on the bed. This was fine. He was not a wilting flower, he was better than this. He wasn't going to get mobbed for not being able to speak, and anyone who was curious about him would probably feel too awkward to bother him once it was clear he couldn't answer. But he still couldn't stand the thought. At least Geralt knew him, and could guess more or less what he was feeling, if not what he was thinking.

Jaskier kicked his boots off, then pulled the pillow to his chest and curled around it, suddenly wishing for Geralt's solid warmth at his back, keeping him grounded, making him feel safe and like things might eventually be okay again. Instead, he felt like he was bleeding out of his body, turning into mist that could be blown away with the slightest breeze.

He didn't move for a long time after that.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) Now on AO3

[yoongisbars]

quest of omission | myg (4)

summary: The war between kingdoms was starting and being Freywind’s highest ranking Captain, you would always be there to defend your people from the treachery of Woodwind. There’s just one problem: their best killer, The Silence, and his insufferable ability to make your heart race with both loathing and yearning. And now, on the verge of death after an ambush gone wrong, you both have no choice but to keep each other alive.

pairing: myg x reader genre: enemies to lovers au | knight!yoongi au | future angst? fluff? | drabble series word count: 2.3k parts: 4/_ | 1, 2, 3 cw: none, unless ure a veg note: it’s been eons, but its here ;_;

“Yoongi? Is that you?”  Relief flashed across the young boy’s face as Yoongi lowered his weapon in recognition. Shaking Yoongi’s arm off you, you stood back analyzing the possibilities of what this could mean.

“Jimin?” Surprise colored the pale man’s words as he eyed the boy in confusion. “I thought you were dead?” Great. Now he has a friend.

“I’m very much alive. I was wandering around during the night, and I saw you in there, but I didn’t want to intrude.” His eyebrow raised in a suggestive manner. “I figured I’d stay up there to stick around, y’know?”

“Okay… Anyways, I’m glad you’re okay.” Yoongi’s stoic expression was contrasted by Jimin, as his eyes turned into delicate crescents. They then focused on you, widening in realization.

“Isn’t this the Freywind Captain? From the bar?” He takes a few steps closer, scanning you with concern. “You look flush, are you okay?” You gently swat his approaching hand away from your face.

“I’m fine.”

“She had a fever, but she’s gaining her color back. I guess you are fine.” Yoongi shrugs, proceeding to stretch his arms. “So what’s next? Is this where we part ways?” The question seemed sudden and out of place, rendering both you and the one named Jimin in confusion. It was as if each second you felt better, coming down from your fever, he became more his colder self…  “I mean, I just needed someone as a companion for a surer survival. I have Jimin now though, we’re not on the same side, so it would be best to part, right?” Classic woodwindian. A double edged sword. You knew this would happen eventually, but you figured, like he said, it would last until you made your way out. But now that one of his little ragtag mates appeared, getting rid of you is at the top of his priorities. 

Your stubborn tongue was ready to fire back in agreement, roughing it out with the enemy was the last thing you ever wanted to do. With a bit of stamina from resting and a fallen friend’s sword at your side, in your head, you were more than ready to take on the vast forest. However, Jimin quickly interjected before you could get a word in.

“I honestly think it’s best if I join you guys, instead of just you and I trekking around. Three’s always better than two? And I’m not even armed.” He threw his hands up in exhibition, not even a small blade on him. You almost pitied him, but how did he even get so far with nothing? “I think we can come to an agreement? Like one I’m suspecting you came to before?” The boy eyed you and Yoongi curiously. He mentioned he had seen you inside the tree sleeping, and when he jumped down, you were practically wrapped in Yoongi’s steady arms.

The woodwindians stared each other down before the eldest, you assumed, yielded. You wouldn’t comment unless he did anyways, an agreement was already previously made and a freywindian always keeps their word. if it would fall through it would have to be at his doing. 

“Fine. The truce agreement stands, for now.” A glance was shot in your direction, waiting for any response.

“For now.” Even if they were his words, you could see they were like bile to him.

“A bit hostile, but at least we’re in terms I guess.” Jimin shrugged. “And I don’t know about you, but I am starving.” His hand quickly traveled to a satchel at his waist. A waterskin. “I do have water though, if any would like?” His arm extended to you first, expressioned soft. It was tempting, as you were as dehydrated as you could be for someone who was ransacked by a body of water. But noting your hesitation he assured you it was alright if you took it.

“Thanks.” The liquid engulfed your tongue and throat in the most refreshing manner. You felt as it made its way to your stomach. It was surprisingly cold, probably due to the night temperature. You passed the waterskin over to Yoongi, who simply gave it back to Jimin, not bothering to take a sip. Rolling his eyes at Yoongi, he shoved it back to him, giving him no choice but to at the very least carry it. He’d drink eventually.

“Let’s go then. I’m sure we can find something small enough to hunt but large enough to make a meal of it.” Yoongi ushered at Jimin to make way with him.

“There are plenty of rabbits in the area, but are you sure you need me to go along?” Jimin eyed you with slight concern again. You were feeling better, and according to Yoongi you were starting to look like it as well. But Jimin’s expression seemed to deny these claims. “I still think the Captain looks a bit ill, I don’t think leaving her alone would be right…”

“She has a sword… and a couple of tricks down her pants.” You understood what he meant quickly, Jimin however was confused and eyes automatically scanned your legs, landing on your knives. He quickly regained his composure, brushing Yoongi off.

Their bickering continued until Yoongi ultimately had no choice but to go on his own while Jimin stayed with you in the trunk.

If you were to pick which woodwindian you’d stick around with, it would surely be the newest addition. Their only similar trait they shared, besides who they serve, was their underwhelming height. You were used to being surrounded by men in Freywind given you were in the army and were close to the Prince and King, and they were all tall. Woodwindians must be of shorter genetics. Aside from that, Jimin and Yoongi were nothing alike. At first you thought the one before you was quite peculiar and quick to trust another, but it suited him. He was a genuinely nice person, unlike the other who was nice either by convenience or due to your own fever. 

Not to mention Jimin’s particular features were quite endearing. The chubby plims under his eyes and his plump lips suited him marvelously. Distracted by his appearance as you were, you missed half of whatever story he was telling you now. From the many things he’s spoken about, you discovered he’s half freywindian. No wonder he was easier to get along with. Blood doesn't deny blood, even if tainted.

“You know,” Aware you were ignoring him, you focused on what he was saying again. “He’s not bad once you get to know him.” A smirk faded as quickly as it appeared across his face. “Taking his time though, isn’t he?” The fingers tapping against his knee were a sure sign of worry.  And although you hated to admit it, even if to yourself, the feeling was mutual. It wasn’t until you fully came down from the high of the fever that you considered the fact that maybe, he might have been sick as well. Considering you both went through the rough of it. Jimin on the other hand, didn’t suffer that much initially. According to him, he wasn’t near the opening when it happened, but that he still swiftly got carried away with the water as the tides started to lose its strength. Eventually he just kept walking in search of anyone, but instead ended up deep in the forest, meeting the same fate as you and Yoongi. Lost, and without a clue on how to get back out. 

Your thoughts drowned with worry far more than you’d like at the reminder of the other woodwindian. Part of you hoped it was just your mind mimicking Jimin's anxious habits, but you  knew that, despite everything,  the survival odds of three were far better than those of two. The deeper meaning behind the sinking feeling underneath, you didn't dig into. But before Jimin or you could stand up and propose a new quest to find the lost boy, a shadow fell upon the thicker part of the woods. Yoongi came out shortly after, from an opening hidden and likely chosen for his style of fighting. You didn't hear your sigh of relief, and if Jimin did he didn't comment on it. Seconds later he was scrambling to help his friend bring back the two rabbits perched atop his shoulders. 

With the fire burning and rabbits skinned clean, it was only a matter of time before food would be in your stomachs. Eating rabbit was something you weren’t fond of, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and the inviting aroma was enough to awaken your suppressed hunger. As the meat cooked, being turned ever so often by Yoongi, Jimin was busy arranging different stones into a sundial in an attempt to determine how much time we had left, if it was worth to keep venturing farther than the shelter until we could find a new one, or simply wait out the time before waiting for an opportune moment to take leave

“I think it’s safe to say,” He stared up to the sun and back down to his array of sticks and stones. “We probably have a good six hours of sunlight left.” Dusting off his hands and placing them on his hips, he showed pride in his efforts. Looking back at you and Yoongi, still sitting on a couple of logs near the fire, he beamed. Although a simple glance up to the sun would have been enough, you had to give him credit. The patience needed to find enough stones and branches, enough sunlight peeking through the canopies above, and arranging them in such a precise manner, was not something you were blessed with. “Would it be wise if we continued within an hour from now? Or is it better to wait?” Although the questions were voiced generally, Jimin’s sight never left his superior. It was normal for him to seek guidance from him. Yoongi pursed his lips, deep in thought.

“The chances of finding another shelter as good as this one are slim.” He brought the crisp rabbits away from the fire. “But slacking on our next move any further can cost us much more than that. We leave after breakfast.” And a rather late breakfast at that.

It would have been a silent meal if not for Jimin trying to start up a conversation every second. His intent was noticeable, to try and get everyone on comfortable speaking terms. But neither you or Yoongi would budge, only speaking directly to Jimin, very rarely you would share a word, but it would often be an opening for disagreement, which Jimin was quick to stop before it even had a chance to start.

“So,” Jimin started, oddly enough removing one of his boots and pulling from it some folded parchment. As he continued speaking, he unfolded it and spread it across the ground where he sat. “Where would you say we are?” Neither you nor Yoongi noticed Jimin sheepish and expectant looks, you both stared at each other in disbelief that this individual had a map this whole time, and didn’t bother to mention it earlier. A sigh left him as he got up to take a closer look. In turn you were finding the strength to not curse out the boy, and instead look at it from a grateful point of view. There was now: a map. No need to be mad.

“I think… We might be around here, but frankly I’m not too sure.” Yoongi sat down on the ground as well, while you inched your way down the log to sit just behind them, overlooking the map. “When did you get a map including Ahbörr?” The question, though simple, weighed heavy. From your understanding, Abhörr was a group of people from different lands, Freywind, Woodwind, Lunyth and so on, that were against the growing positions of power for women. But you had always dismissed it as a myth, no one ever mentioned them, much less encountered them. “I knew they were south, but not this close…” Yoongi’s brows furrowed upon examination.

“About a few months ago, when the cartographers modified the maps.” His fingers started to trace over what was displayed as the forest we were currently residing in. “Hmm, if this large tree here is any indication to where we are, it might be best if we head south anyways if it’s certain that this clearing is there.”

“With Abhörr being so close to that, I’d much rather go back and head for a northeast direction. We’ll take onger, but we can get to Woodwind faster, then this one can find her way back to Freywind easily.” A thumb jutted back in your direction and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“It is just a map, small at that. So it doesn’t necessarily mean Abhörr is really that close.” You scooched down between them taking the map into your hands. Yoongi’s sudden distaste at your proximity was duly noted as he inched away slightly. “And clearly this forest is larger than what this map makes it out to be.”

“She’s right, Yoongi. If we head South, we spend less time in the forest, but if we head east…”

“Where Woodwind is.” Yoongi interrupted.

“We both know it’s impossible to cross the river. We’d have to go south anyways to make it across safely.”

After a long discussion about which direction to head for, south was the victor. Jimin and you had more valid points to offer, while the soured man simply wanted to avoid any encounters with Abhörreans, as he called them. Neither of you paid mind to his worries, it wasn’t like you were seeking out these people anyways. You simply wanted to get out of there as soon as you could and be on your way back home. But it’s tragic, really, how Yoongi’s worries turned out to be. 

taglist: @loveyoongles​ @stoeq​ @bubbletae7​

[writingwhywhywhy]

Derailed Chapter Three

Like two clocks in sync, they both called you back at the same time. Luckily for you, your phone could merge two answered calls. "I am pregnant, one of you is the father, and I have a DNA test set in two weeks." You said as soon as they were both on the line.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked

"6 home test and a doctor's confirmation sure." You said

"The reason you are calling either of us is?" Elijah asked very impatiently

"Well congratulations on being the last two people I have slept with." You spat out very annoyed, considering you hadn't slept with anyone since the two of them.

"With the past year you have had, you’re sure it's one of us?" Dean asked

"The timeline matches. But if it would make you feel better I could call the two men I slept with before either of you and have them come also." You snarled into the phone.

"That would help alleviate any doubts if you would be kind enough." Elijah said coldly.

"So I will see the two of you in two weeks?" You asked a bit frustrated

You got one sure and a fine. You would have screamed, and to think four months ago you dropped everything and ran to help both of them. Some stupid cult became obsessed with the righteous man and righteous brother. At one point they had turned Elijah human. Freya had reversed this, but during this time you had been with Elijah and Dean. To be honest it had been the farewell the you had never said. It was sweet  in it's own way, but you regretted it quite bit now. You also regretted sleeping with them within a day of each other. Nothing you could do about it now.

You gave them both the address before hanging up. You proceeded to call your favorite distraction. "Hey. I haven't herd from you in a few months." Damon, according to your phone, said.

"Well I have been a busy bee. I do need a favor." You said.

"Sorry baby, but I am finally back with the love of my life." He said with a smile.

"Would she mind if you took a DNA test to humor my actual baby daddies?" You asked

"Could you repeat that?" He stammered

"I am pregnant. The two actual possibilities won't take the test unless the two men I slept with before the two of them also take it. So I was wondering if you just showing up to help a friend out would upset your girlfriend?" You restated

"So was I a lucky name drawn out of a hat?" He joked.

"Well you're lucky enough to have been the actual last person before those two. The other guy I have to call is unlucky number 4." You said

He agreed to come and you gave him all the details he needed. You made the fourth phone call of the day. "Hey." You said as soon as he answered.

"Hey Y/N. How are you doing?" He asked

"Pregnant but I need a favor from you." You said.

"Okay. What is the favor?" He asked hesitantly

"I need you to show up for a DNA test. It's not yours, but both of  the possibilities want the last two men I slept with before them there." You rambled

"So I get to be one of the lucky four for a test. Sure I will show." He said

You gave him all the details and hung up. Part of you just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. You didn't want to leave this town. It was the closest thing to a home you had. You found yourself returning here. It was a weird safe haven. That's why you found Dr. O'Brien. She was a doctor who didn't ask many questions and she was on a more affordable scale. You knew this would be the last two weeks you would spend here. You were very tempted to try this child raising thing by yourself. The love you had shared with each of these men had turned them bitter. The love you still carried for both of them hurt you. Could you allow your child to be raised by two people bitter and hurt? You picked up your phone to maybe call it off and then it rang.

"Why the fuck does my brother insist that we have to drive to some town in two weeks?" Sam kinda shouted at you.

"Good to hear from you to Sam" you said with a fake pleasant tone.

"Look the town he wants to go to is where you normally hole up after a hunt so spill." Sam said ignoring your greeting.

Another call came in. "Hey Sammy hold for half a second I need to answer and merge this calls." You said knowing he hated that nickname, and you immediately answered the other call.

"Hey Nikki hold for half a second." You said before Niklaus could say anything.

You pulled the phone away from your ear long enough to merge the calls. You herd a string of curse words from your phone before it was back to your ear. "So do the Mikaelsons and Winchesters run on the same time? Or are the double calls just a standard package?" You said

"What the hell is my brother doing driving to you?" Niklaus angrily asked.

"Remember the last time you boys called me? I came running because your dumb ass older brothers got themselves into a jam. Well do you also remembers awkward oops I slept with both of you within 24 hours. I am pregnant and one of you gets to be an uncle!" You said with all the sass you could muster.

You could almost hear them deflate. "I need to go with Dean." Sam said

"Well then I will see the two of you in two weeks." Klaus said.

"Fun. Now is there anything else I could do for the two of you?" You grunted into the phone.

There was a beat of silence. "Probably shouldn't have cussed at the person maybe carrying my brother’s spawn." Klaus said

"Yeah not the brightest idea." Sam said

"Yeah, luckily I know you both are dummies and can forgive such language." You said

There was another pause, and then a round of goodbyes was said. After the call had ended, you felt a small pang of sadness. You use to be considered family by both of them. Now the relationships had broken a bit, but you had kept in touch like fresh high school graduates hanging on to their best friends from high school. You hoped against all olds that the relationships would be fixed, but part of you knew that there was no way to take back your leaving even if you had been asked to go.

Two weeks to kill. You wanted to find something to hunt. You tossed the idea out for the sake of the human growing inside you. You didn't want to think about the future for many reasons and one of them was the feelings of home this place gave. You had thought of 4 places as home. Your child hood home, the bunker, the compound, and this town. You would probably move back to either the bunker or the compound.

You were equally afraid they were going to feel like a prison or like home. Prison where you were held captive against your will, and forced to raise your child with someone who hated you. Home where you felt comfortable, and raising your child with the man you loved. The first terrified you because it meant the love you felt was not returned and may have never been there. The latter terrified you for the fact you might have wasted your time alone and hurt your adopted family and yourself for no reason.

Your past hurt. Thinking of your biological family brought you back to that fateful day every time. You could still see the fire and smell the smoke despite the 7 year gap in time. You forbade yourself from thinking on either Elijah or Dean, but you failed that quite often. Partly due to staying in contact with Sam, Klaus, Freya and Bobby. Yet the main reason you didn't want to think about them was that you still loved them. You always pushed that fact to the back of your mind. You refused to acknowledge it.

The only thing that you could do was say goodbye to this town. It would be the first goodbye you had complete control over. The only goodbye that wouldn't have people attached, but you found yourself talking to the human growing inside. You told them about this town and why you liked it. You even promised if they ever hated their dad you guys could move back and you would do the whole single parent thing.

The two weeks moved very slowly but still too quickly for your liking. You wished you could hold this bit of semi freedom for a while because you knew the second they arrived somehow your freedom would end. Yet you still dutifully showed up to Dr. O'brien's office early. You found two men waiting for you. "Damon" you said hugging him.

The other man stared at you a bit awkward. When you went in for the hug, he said "The name is Garth."

"I knew that." You lied completely during the hug. You had for some reason listed him in your phone as good number for repeat sex and not under his name.

"So what do we do now?" Damon asked

You looked at both of them. You wished the other two had arrived first. You were about to check in with Mercy, when Dean and Elijah walked in with Sam and Klaus. "Welcome to the party." You said walking away towards Mercy's desk.

"Hey are you testing all six of those men?" Mercy asked as soon as you arrived at the desk.

"No. Just 4 of them. The weirdly tall one and the one that looks likes he wants to murder things are here for emotional support." You said

"Well it's good to have friends." Mercy says with a smile.

"Not my emotional support, but one of them is the uncle." You replied

"This is a lot to unpack, but I am going to let Dr. O'Brien handle this because I am honestly not paid enough for this." Mercy said

"Thank you. Do I march the entire party to her?" You ask

"She wanted to see you first and check a few things. You can go see her now." Mercy said.

~(General POV in the Waiting room)~

You had failed to notice the awkwardness between the men. "So Garth I haven't seen you in a while." Sam started trying to break the awkward silence.

"So who broke her?" Garth asked

He got a questioning look from four of the men. "Most women stop calling you after you physically use them to break furniture during sex. They also don't call you back encouraging you to use them to break more furniture." Damon added

"Most women also remember your name." Garth said

"Most women also believe whatever name you give them." Damon said

Few people would be able to read the bit of hurt that ran across Dean's and Elijah's faces. "Personally if I wouldn't have called. Raising a child by yourself has to be easier than dealing with you lot." Garth spat

"Hey you don't know the full story." Sam started  trying to defend them

"Don't know the whole story is BS. We know enough of the story. I have never in my entire life looked into eyes that hurt and dead." Damon replied.

The silence echoed. "Damon you can go." Elijah said with a cold detached voice

"What suddenly you don't need the last two people she slept with." Damon snapped back

"You are a vampire the last time I checked, and unless you had been cured during your last time with Y/N like I was, you can't be the father." Elijah stated dryly

Damon left with a bit of anger. "Garth you can leave also." Dean said

"What gets me my pass?" Garth asked with attitude

"Because she knew it wasn't either of you two. We were just being pricks because she had the nerve to move past us." Dean said

"She never really got past you two." Garth said leaving.

Another silence settled between the four. It would be several silent minutes before you returned.

~(Back to your POV around the same time)~

"Mercy input four men for testing when she checked you in. I saw six out there and we originally thought it would be two." Dr. O'Brien calmly semi asked

"The real possibilities insisted that I include the last two men I had slept with and they brought their brothers for emotional support." You replied

"You know I could cancel the test if you need me to." She said staring into your eyes.

For what felt like the millionth time, you thought about being a single parent. "As stupid as it is, I still love both of the possible fathers. Even if I didn't, I couldn't live with myself if I kept their child away from them." You replied

"Children." Dr. O'Brien corrected you

"What?" You asked

"I told you it was twins last time. Were you paying attention?" She asked

"I  guess not. Can we keep that between us and the father?" You asked

After she confirmed it would stay between the two of you until you figured out who was the father, you went to collect the boys. "Hey where did Damon and" you took a pause and thought really hard about it "Garth go?"

You saw a flood of emotions roll over both Dean and Elijah. "Look I just need you two here to figure out the father so let's go." You said

"Did you know that I knew and hunted with Garth?" Dean asked

"Or that Damon, a vampire, has a complicated history with my family?" Elijah asked

"Turns out I keep making the same mistakes. I keep sleeping with a hunter than a vamp. Despite that I am not that stupid to sleep with anyone entangled in either of your lives." You said coldly

A silence settled between the three of you. The test took a few minutes. "You can come back in five days." Dr. O'Brien said afterwards.

"It's enough time to show you all around town." You offered as you walked out of the office

"No thanks." Dean said.

"How about you Elijah?" You asked

There was a moment where you could have sworn he looked like he wanted to. You could almost see the love you knew he use to feel. Then you arrived in the waiting room. "So it's going be about five days until we know which one of you is the lucky uncle. I was offering to show you guys around town." You said ignoring the no Dean had given.

To say the silence was heavy would be an understatement. You knew that Klaus and Sam had missed spending tine with you a bit. You also knew that Elijah was on the edge of saying yes. Dean's no was just a cover. Yet the emotional baggage you shared individually with Dean and Elijah hung over you. In a few days one of them would be locked in your life forever and the other would most likely be locked out.

"Or I could just tell you where the nearest place to eat and sleep is?" You offered trying to reach out but not push anyone where they wouldn't be comfortable.

This was also met with silence. "Or you guys could sleep here. I am sure Mercy wouldn't mind." You snapped trying to push them to a decision.

"I  for one would enjoy your company." Klaus said.

You knew that sealed the deal with Elijah. You watched as Dean gave Sam a glare that indicated his plan to kill him if he said yes. "Dean has already declined. I am inclined to do so myself. Yet I feel spending time alone with my brother is torture no one should endure." Elijah said, and you could have sworn that he was trying to help you out

"Sure." Sam said

Dean sighed. "Fine we can pretend to be a happy band of friends." Dean said

"That's exactly what you want to hear from someone you might raise a child with!" You said with enough sarcasm to drown a country. "If you want to follow that beautiful blue Ford focus, we can stop by the local motel. Afterwards there is a lovely dinner within walking distance." You finished trying to not to leave any room for them to say anything about your sass.

Tagging @idkhaylijah

[another-sonic-blog]

I am but a shadow and you are light Pt.4

Shadow thought that he would be happy for her. And to some extent, he was. They were perfect for each other, their green matching eyes complemented even more that they were to be together.

Green and green

Not red and green

So why did it still hurt?

Even when he knew for a fact Amy would never accept his feelings.

But deep down, on his sweetest dream, he had a small hope that they could be together.

And even now after a week of seeing Amy walk down the aisle, him holding hands with Rouge, he still had hope.

That damn little spark of hope.

It was still there but slowly, just like a candle, it began to run out and suddenly.

There was no more.

He had to be honest with himself, he didn’t love Rouge but did, indeed, enjoy her company.

Rouge, on the other hand, could imagine herself with Shadow for a long time.

But she knew that his heart still belonged to the pink hedgehog. She will try to make him fall in love with her. Even if he could just give her a little bit of the love he felt for Amy, that would be enough for her.

“We are going to need more people in the frontline, Sonic and Shadow need to rest!” One of the generals screamed as more soldiers were approaching the frontline. G.U.N Vs. Infinite’s army, which consisted of fake replicas of G.U.N’s soldiers. It was complicated for GUN soldiers mostly because they didn’t know exactly who to attack.

“We haven’t been able to find infinite! He keeps going doing fakes! He is going outnumber us soon! We need to find him!” Sonic said as aggressively put his hands on the table.

“Numbers don’t win wars.” Shadow simply said. They took a rest on the military’s camp, in a tent.

“No, but they surely help.” Sonic replies.

Canons were heard, the exploding of bombs and screaming of people. Sonic couldn’t take it anymore.

He needed to finish the war now.

Shadow didn’t respond, deep in thought as he saw Sonic’s gold ring, beautifully displayed on his ring finger.

“What if you make Infinite come out of his hidden spot?”

Both hedgehogs turned around and found a snaking Amy and Rouge looking straight at them.

“What are you doing here? Amy, it’s dangerous.” Sonic walked towards Amy and hugged her as he said this. He missed her, but he also didn’t want to put her in danger.

“I’ve missed you, you haven’t written to me since our wedding day.” She responded.

“I know but still-“

Amy didn’t concentrate on Sonic’s words. She got lost in thoughts as she saw Rouge walking towards Shadow and planting a kiss on his lips, which he accepted gladly.

She wasn’t a fool, she knew they were dating even if Shadow tried to deny it most of the time.

“Are you listening to me?”

Amy zoomed in, and regain her attention to Sonic.

“Yes, I did. Don’t worry I’ll stay in the tent all the time so please, don’t be angry that I’ll be staying here.” Amy tried to calm him and watched him take a sigh, defeated.

Sonic looked into her eyes, he was so blessed to have her and he was just too proud to have her.

"Shadow! Sonic! They need you in the front!" One of the commanders said. Shadow immediately stood up and walked past Amy as Rouge followed him. He acknowledges Amy's presence by giving her a look.

Sonic and Amy were now alone.

"I need to leave, but I-"

"Don't say anything, it's better if you tell me when you come back but I do want to say something to you." Amy took a sigh, completely in love with him.

"Ever since that night, when, in a voice all new to me, Under my window you revealed your soul Ah! ever since I have adored you!" Amy said, her eyes shining.

Sonic felt something inside of that that it wasn't right.

"I love you only for your soul!"

Those words resonated in Sonic's ear like a bomb. He felt his world crumble.

"What?" He softly said.

"Nowadays people only want nice looks but your letters...Sonic I love who you are!"

"No...no, I prefer for you to love me by my looks!"

Amy saw Sonic's face change, had she not explain herself well?

"I mean to say that even your beauty was to depart, I'll still love you!" Amy said clearly.

"No, the first love was best!" Sonic walked away from Amy but she took steps towards him. "If I was ugly you wouldn't love me!"

"Don't say that! I swear I'd love you still!"

Sonic only nodded finally realizing what he had done. He walked past Amy as he left her in the tent. She didn't know what she said to make him change emotions.

"Shadow you will be upfront, Infinite is right here, you need to-"

"Pardon me, I need to talk to Shadow." Sonic interrupted the commander as he took Shadow by the arm, pulling him away from the meeting.

"She loves you", Sonic simply said.

"What?"

"Amy! She loves you." Sonic took a moment to look at Shadow's reaction.

How could he be so blind? In all of his life, he had never seen Shadow's face light up like that.

"You love her...don't you?" Sonic asked him, looking at his eyes.

Shadow hestitated, he didn't answer and that's all Sonic needed to know that it was true.

"You love her madly?" He asked again.

"More than madly." Shadow finally said.

Sonic wasn't angry at him but more at himself. He grabbed him and forcefully dragged him to where Amy was. "TELL HER!"

"No!", Shadow said as he tried to go against Sonic.

"Why not?!"

"Look at me!" Shadow was referring again to his bad looks. His horrible scar and red eyes like the devil.

"Tell her!" Sonic keeps saying as he dragging him.

"No! Stop tempting me!"

"I'm tired of being my own rival! Let her choose one of us!" Sonic said out loud.

"You," Shadow said as he finally gave up.

"I hope so."

Sonic then saw Amy ran towards them. Sonic ran off into the battlefield and he left Shadow alone with Amy.

"Where is he going?" Amy asked as she finally reached Shadow.

"He went to the front line, they needed him there," Shadow said.

"Maybe he thought I lied," Amy said sadly as she watched Sonic ran far off, losing her sight on him.

"And did you?" Shadow questioned.

"No, I love him. Regardless of his looks." Amy looked at Shadow straight at his eyes, feeling secure about her answer.

"Even if he was ugly?" Shadow asked.

"Even if he was ugly." She answered.

"Even deformed?."

"Even deformed."

Shadow took a pause and held her hands. "Were he ridiculous and grotesque, would you love him?"

Amy didn't even think for a second, there was no doubt on her heart that she loved Sonic for his soul.

"More than ever."

Shadow couldn't believe it, was happiness actually possible for him? Even when all of this time he thought he wasn't worth loving?

"Listen, Amy, I need to tell you something, I-"

"Shadow! Sonic needs back up now!" One of Shadow's commanders yelled. Shadow looked at Amy one last time before departing to help his blue friend.

.

.

.

Shadow was late.

The one bleeding to death was supposed to be him, not Sonic. His body would be able to handle it but Sonic couldn't. He wasn't thinking clearly, he was obviously angry. Sonic wasn't thinking rationally and because of that, he decided to fight Infinite by himself.

Now, he was a puddle of blood.

He carried Sonic all they back to his military camp. Shadow placed Sonic on the ground, his head resting on a tree trunk.

Amy approached them quickly, "We need to get help no-"

Amy was interrupted by Sonic grabbing her hand.

That's when Amy knew Sonic didn't want any help.

"Sonic... I...I-" Amy couldn't get the words out of her mouth, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"I love you." Sonic softly whispered. As he grabbed her hand.

Amy began to cry louder, on her own misery, she didn't notice Shadow getting closer to Sonic's ear.

"I told her everything. You are the one she loves." Shadow whispered.

Sonic smiled as he accepted his destiny.

He held Shadow and Amy's hand tightly. What a great way to go.

A hero and loved.

Finally, Sonic the hedgehog closed his eyes, accepting death as his friend.

Amy cried without stopping, the love of his life was gone.

Shadow held her in his arms as she continued crying.

"Shadow, Infinite is getting closer we need you right now!" The commander yelled again.

Rouge quickly came into the picture, as she and Shadow tried to pick up Amy from the ground.

"Get her away to somewhere safe!" Shadow told Rouge.

"No! Stay with me! What if something happens to you?!" Amy screamed at him as Rouge pulled her away.

"The fight is on! I need to go!" Shadow said decided.

Amy continued crying, there was no stopping him but she needed reassurance. "His letters...You alone knew him...Was he not a marvelous spirit?"

"Yes, he was," Shadow said as he pushed her away.

"Wasn't he a supreme, lovable poet?"

"Yes, he was"

" A sublime being?" Amy began to cry more as the words struggled to come out. Tears falling on her eyes, misery in her voice. "Wasn't he a deep, saintly heart, a magnificent and pure soul?!"

Rouge was finally able to put Amy away from Shadow.

Shadow watched as he saw Rouge walk away from me.

Shadow realized that all of those words she said witch such passion, pain, emotion...they were for him. She was in love with him.

He needed to make a decision.

But honestly, it wasn't a hard one.

Keep the loving memory of his only friend and make the love of his life believe that her only love was death?

Or try and have a happy life with Amy by telling her the truth?

This was no decision...it was logic.

and Shadow had finally decided.

Shadow sighed, happily accepting his fate as he whispered to himself,

"Farewell, Amy."

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Next chapter will be the last chapter.

[archer3-13]

FEH Villains Ranked

from best to worst, excluding book 4 cause its still ongoing

lif: genuinely surprised me by being an alfonse with pathos. well he started book 3 as a kinda generic number 2 type, the revelation of his identity as alfonse (though rather obvious at that point) as well as his goal of essentially destroying other worlds as a penance to restore his own is both suitably threatening and tragic. Creating that sense of pathos i mentioned that works so well for him, especially when hes shown to still be a kind person at heart thats been pushed into such horrific actions because of the devastation he had to endure. Especially when you consider that hes carrying the weapon that could kill hel with him which, although kinda lazy that he just has it, is a) a hel of a lot less contrived then anything book 2 pulled off and b) further deepens that sense of pathos when we consider that not only is it a memento of ‘player san’ and presumably everyone else hes lost but that it can also represent, in a way, a symbol of his own failure of will and bowing the knee to hel. Him prioritizing his own happiness and fulfillment in the form of hel resurrecting his world over the good of the ‘fe multiverse’. Point being, its a complexity of character that I honestly wish we got to see more of, and one I really wasn’t expecting from fe heroes given its track record. you’ll see what i mean down the road.

hel: well not terribly complex in motivation, she basically just wants to kill everything to increase her own power, she gets points for a strong presentation and utilization within the story book 3 creates. The limitations on her insta death power being kinda silly aside, though gustavs gambit to circumvent that i honestly really like more so then alfonses rules lawyering, the overhanging presence she has in the lives of book 3′s characters works really well and the pressure to defeat her because of her effectively endless legions works better as an overhanging threat anyways. When I say presentation though I mean more so in how her words, actions, and motivation intersect because well her words on the face of it have the usual villain posturing, her motivation and actions (such as her relation to eir and her generals, and the world she rules over and created) creates an interesting intersection where one can argue that her posturing words are empty of any true feeling. Shes cold and lifeless like the dead she rules and the world she creates, those around her are simply tools to an end but hardly in a cackling manner and more so in the unthinking manner one treats a toothpick. she gets angry or shocked but even then its in a muted manner, almost performing the emotions rather then truly feeling them. Hel lives in an unchanging world, a stillness brought on by the finality of death, and in a way one can argue that its her unspoken desire to spread that stillness, that perfect unchanging world she controls, to every world. Like lif, its a degree of complexity that I wish we got to see more of, especially in her case, and its something i honestly wasnt expecting from heroes.

helbindi: solely because the man goes through a lot of shit, and is an effective portrayal of a sympathetic villain. Hes effectively a camus if a camus was foul mouthed and more thuggish and that works for him, and is rather endearing in its own way when he acts concerned for his little sister and does the ‘im a thug who hugs kittens when no ones looking’ routine which i like when its done well. point being, he could have been a generic thug but hes a lot more interesting for not being one. However, his general pointlessness to the story, aside from giving us an indication that shock of shocks surtrs a shitty king and an excuse to escort ylgir around places who also does jack shit in the story... heroes is always going to suffer from having to compress its story telling but that fact they waste so much time with helbindi and ylgir and hrud when so much of what they do is either unnecessary to the story or themes present in book 2 or could have been given to other characters and make those characters better for it... helbindi gets to be up here for sympathy points and favoritism, but i am stretching here for ya mate.

thrasir: stronger character wise then helbindi, an interesting relation to lif of enemies turned into close friends over a shared trauma and servitude, plays into some of the same strengths of hel and lif that make them so engaging, yadda, yadda, yadda. So why is she below helbindi? because she doesnt get to do anything, and only starts to get interesting right before her death. If she had been given a bigger role comparable to lif, or just more time to stew in her own motivations she’d easily surpass helbindi. its also not helped that thrasirs own desire to resurrect her brother is similar to veronicas pre established selfishness, which isnt as strong a contrast as lifs selfishness and guilt against alfonses character. Her relation to lif does hint at a stronger sense of kidness and morality instilled within her because of that relation, which is interesting and would make a strong contrast against veronica, but again we get like five seconds of it before shes killed off and then a little more of it again at the end. Deserved more time on screen then she got, and would have probably been number 2 here if she had gotten it. 

veronica: bratty child becomes evil sorcerer emperor, more at 11. I like the concept of veronica, its something fes never really touched on much aside from maybe a little bit with julius with his more childish antics. Veronica however cranks that up a lot more, shes impatient and gets bored easily, she wants more friends but in a selfish ‘friend is someone who does everything I want right?’ way, shes emblas ruler and she has the emotional maturity of an evil 10 year old and i just kinda like it. Especially since she tempers it with an air of sophistication and intelligence, much like the classic evil sorcerers fe loves to utilize in villain roles, and it helps balance out the bratty child from being too annoying in the villain role. It helps lend a sense of her trying to present herself as a grown up for the respect and authority that brings, well simultaneously maintain all the perks of being a kid who gets everything she wants. It’s a shame then that the narrative keeps sidelining her, either by focusing on other villains, her god damn brother getting in the fucking way, or with the overhanging implications of magic dragon possession being the root cause of her behavior. I can forgive the magic dragon possession though since that is an fe staple and could works towards more interesting character aspects rather then undercutting her. Regardless, she sure is great when things are actually about her, and i really wish things would get back to being about her.

Laegjarn: solely here because she loves her sister, shes rather flat as a character otherwise. It would have been one thing if she displayed a sense of brutality instilled in her by a childhood being raised by surtr, only dropping the shell when it came to her sister and reigning herself in for the sake of that one familial bond she treasures... instead shes just kinda nice and loves her sister, and yet still works for surtr for some fucking reason. @agoddamn and @ezralahm mention an aspect of learned helplessness to xanders character in fates that people tend to gloss over (heaven knows why, cause its fairly in your face even in the english translation), and that should be something that comes across in laegjarn, but its doesnt really. not as much as it should anyways. Another victim of book 2′s pointless writing.

loki: evil sexy lady with big boobies and a one leg cutout tights pants thing. heres someone who can transform into anyone, and yet she never really does anything with it. oh she does ‘things’, just not things that have much point to them, or really feel like they fit into some larger scheme. she’d be right at home as a recurring villain in an episodic story, coming up with some inane scheme for todays episode that gets foiled and she gets sent ‘blasting off again’. I dont necessarily hate the sexy seductress character, the noire bombshells and the like, they can be fun when done well. loki just doesnt do it well, coming off as more grating and annoying then tempting honestly, and as a villain she lacks anykind of actual menace. My feelings on her are similar to my feelings on aversa honestly, heres someone who should be so cool and threatening, a real menace to the heroes using their skills and abilities behind the scenes to move threats against the heroes, never taking to the field unless they can benefit from it and have an assured chance of victory or safety... but then they never actually do anything, as any of the actions possibly attributable to them either happen offscreen or probably would have happened without them doing anything. Loki and aversa could have stayed home twiddling their thumbs and nothing would change, and thats the real shame about them. Doesn’t help they aren’t particularly fun or entertaining as villains either due to lackluster writing.

surtr: garon 2.0, but with even less complexity. Well garon may have been a blatantly evil prick, he at least had backstory that provoked some degree of complexity and even sympathy, both to him and those hurt by his evil dragon possession personality change. Surtr lacks even that, acting more like a petty thug given way to much power then an imposing ruler. He garon without the backstory complexity, and in a way hes walhart without the air of regality and charisma that helped elevate walhart from being god awful in his own right. And well it could have been interesting if the story made any attempts to comment on that or work it into a central story theme or flow of some sort, it doesnt really do that and instead treats him as if he has and indeed deserves the same credibility and impression walhart or garon or any of the other fire emblem emperor kings have left. But the game doesnt ever actually work for that with him. Hes the emeperor, so he automatically deserves respect as a villain. and thats... so typical of book 2′s writing.

laevatein: shes boring as sin, even with her relation to her sister and the tragedy of losing her. Like her sister, she would have benefited from an impression of learned helplessness but the game never really bothers with it. moving on because i can barely give a shit about her.

bruno: this mother fucker... an annoying detraction that overtakes veronicas spotlight and screentime, an excuse for alfonse wangst that never really lands, pointless and useless... the benefit of book 2 and 3 so far has been his reduced importance, but i fully expect him to come roaring back to steal veronicas position once the story shifts back to an area she should be the focus of. the only thing he has going for him is the sense of a camus struggling with dragon possession but thats more so used for alfonse wangst then it is for anything constructive. What do i mean by alfonse wangst? I mean angst that really serves no narrative purpose then for the sake of unnecessary melodrama, as opposed to informing us anything about the characters or themes of the story. he makes veronica look worse, his drama with alfonse is a waste of time, and he really provides nothing else then a recurring boss fight and get out of jail free card for the story. I’m putting him below laevatein because well i dont give much of a shit about her, she atleast doesnt actively annoy me and still had the potential for something. Bruno however? the story would be better off without him. So fuck him.