#ive read two and a third of this series in less than a week

[hyperref-lex-ia]

sqq….babygirl

[cricketnationrise]

Weekend WIP Around

so. i'm bad at responding to tag games at the best of times. and then i worked 11 days straight and lost all sense of time and space. but! ive had several days off now, my head is screwed on relatively straight again, so here we go. thanks to: @cha-melodius @three-drink-amy @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @dumbpeachjuice @welcometololaland @celaestis1 @indomitable-love @14carrotghoul @rmd-writes @doggernaut @sherryvalli @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin and @read-and-write- for the MANY tags over the last two weeks! have some words! 💜🦗

I'm using @welcometololaland's 20 question game for writers and artists (thanks Lola, this is so fun!)

1. WIP List: (from my "Active WIPs" folder otherwise we'd be here 5eva) Game Changer (Noise Boys) Tortall AU [FTH] rwrb assassination attempt AU [FTH] jon/alanna Tortall canon-divergence [FTH] an incomplete list series going platinum sequel jack's off-season wishlist series rwrb kiss-cam omgcp say yes to the dress au

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest? Game Changer AU ~2.4k

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest? eventually an incomplete list series since it has the most parts planned, but the going platinum sequel has more than a little potential to explode on me

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why? I am SUPER enjoying writing the Game Changer AU right now, it's really fun coming up with all the prompts!

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why? jon/alanna canon-divergence. hands down. it's not a pairing i usually seek out, and i want to write them believably, especially since it's for charity

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why? see above.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why? probably everything on this list will get a beta pass, actually. kiss cam will depend on how long i end up making it/if it actually gets a whole plot XD

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block? jon/alanna has less of a writer's block and more of a starting block, but i'm hopeful that once i figure out the plot the writing will come fairly easily. kiss-cam au I paused on purpose because i was writing The Mummy AU and Going Platinum at the same time and a third wip was driving me crazy.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them? none of them have OC's at this time

10. Which WIP is the sexiest? Going Platinum sequel 🤝 Jack's Off-Season Wishlist

11. Which WIP is the angstiest? rwrb assassination attempt AU, for obvious reasons

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)? well, i hope all of them!

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)? ditto from above

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on? as of today, Game Changer Tortall AU

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why? Going Platinum sequel. I cut a lot of ideas from the original fic because they didn't make sense with the hiding identities I had going on, so now that they're together, I'm really excited to figure out how alex's job (and henry's support of it) lets their relationship evolve and grow

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs? not about any of these, but while I was writing the Mummy AU I watched the movie so frequently that I would regularly dream about that one.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't? Going Platinum sequel - choreography complications since they still aren't showing their faces on the streams Game Changer Tortall AU - working within the framework of the show itself, possibly coding the whole thing to look like a script

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour? Game Changer AU for sure.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process? not right now!

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs. say yes to the dress au - Bitty as Randy, but it's a Nurseydex endgame fic AND a bonus snippet from the Game Changer Tortall fic to make up for all the 6/7 sentences/wip weds i've missed :D

“Tonight’s guests: coming in fresh from a shower: it’s Merric Hollyrose! Looking around for somewhere to tie his horse: Owen Jesslaw! Tallest, oldest, last – and certainly not happy about it – it’s Neal Queenscove! And your host, me! I’ve been here the whole time.” “Welcome to Gamechanger, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Kel Mindelan, and I’m joined today by these three lovely contestants. Now, you all understand how the game works?” Merric shakes his head. “Nope.”  “Haven’t the foggiest,” says Owen cheerful as always in the face of the unknown. “You haven’t explained a dratted thing.” Neal pouts and Kel feels the last wisps of nerves melt away in response. Kel knows how to do this – getting Neal to hit peak dramatically grumpy levels is as natural as breathing. She throws Neal a cheeky grin before turning back to the camera. “That’s right! Our players have no idea what game it is that they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing, the only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning, so without further ado – let’s begin.”

Consider this an open tag to play along!

[firewoodfigs]

Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

                                       +++++

Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows  he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing 23-29 May 2021

I’m so on the ball with this lately... >_> Sorry. Here’s this week’s roundup! May 23rd - 29th!

Remember to give your content creators some love! Be sure to join in on the events at the bottom! And remember to send in any new works you see or make next week!

~Mod Hel

Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

The Preventer Calendar https://archiveofourown.org/works/31561295

Gen, Reader, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Zechs Merquise, OC - Character

Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Humor, Partial Nudity, Reader-Insert, Nudity, A teeny hint of TrowaxReader, Rating because of some gratuitous nudity on Trowa's side

Twelve models, twelve shoots, twelve different locations in the Ardennes, and all of it in two fucking days. Because Preventer couldn’t spare you their agents any longer than that.

Why had you agreed to do this project again?

It's all for the arts.

boxofhatebrains

Helping Hand https://archiveofourown.org/works/31620146

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, Light Angst, Comfort/Angst, Minor Injuries, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Not Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop Compliant, after series, Flirting, Not Beta Read, slight reference to Episode Zero, Swearing

Duo realizes that Heero comes around whenever he damn well feels like it. They’ve been in contact for the last seven years after the Mariemaia incident, but generally at Heero’s own whim. Duo stays in the same place, it’s Heero who gravitates.

This time is no different.

@duointherain

Silent Menace https://duointherain.tumblr.com/post/652120818915115009/fic-silent-menace-11

1x2x1

Warnings: Mute Duo. Drugged and injured Heero.

Une always had the dark side of the job. She’d let others give out goodness, but bad news she owned herself. Duo had come to the conclusion that she was trying to take responsibility, trying to be a decent person. He could vibe with that.

@lifeaftermeteor

Touched by the Stars (Ch. 7) https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314657/chapters/77885468

M/M, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Chang Wufei, Chang Wufei/Quatre Raberba Winner

Explicit, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, thar be porn, Dubious Consent, Aliens, Alien Abduction, Alternate Universe, mention of MPREG, everyone takes a turn with Wufei, alien anatomy and interesting dicks, Tentacles, Monster Boys, Slime, Double Cocks, Cum Inflation, Knotting, Oral, multiple dicks, Xeno, Spitroasting, Oviposition, Body Modification, Polyamory, Unbirthing, Triple Penetration, Cervical Penetration

University instructor Chang Wufei didn't even believe in aliens, much less intentionally attract their attention. But that doesn't mean much when they decided he'd be the ideal final mate for their group and scoop him off of the planet to take home to their queen. Enjoying him on the trip there, of course. 

@noirangetrois

Of the Sea (Ch. 10) https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749670/chapters/78205124

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, fairytale my way, Meroctopus!Dorothy, Slow Burn, Multi POV, POV Third Person Limited, merman au, MerMay, Fantasy Politics, mentions of abuse, Unnatural November

Heero Yuy will soon be reaching the age of majority, at which time he will ascend the throne of Wingaria. Before such time, he must needs choose a bride. But what if there are no good choices? What if someone else has captured his heart?

The Story of Wrong (Ch. 8) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849020/chapters/77856332

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Explicit, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Duo POV, Angst, Drama, Tragedy, Spoilers, very dark, Heero and Duo don’t die, I promise, Yaoi, slowburn, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, If those are in any way an issue for you then go ahead and skip this, Eventual Smut, VERY eventual, this is mostly canon-compliant but I’ve changed a couple things here and there

Duo recounts his experiences during the war in order to explain… well, why he was wrong.

simulacraryn

love me like (tomorrow we’re) stardust https://archiveofourown.org/works/31458119/chapters/77811359

M/F, Treize Khushrenada/Lady Une

Treize Khushrenada, Lady Une, Original Characters, Hot Dog (gundam wing)

Explicit, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Angst, Near Death Experiences, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, unredeemable villain, Sex, Smut, consent is fucking sexy, Spoiler: He wore the Astro Suit at last!, Newtypes (Gundam Wing), no predators or prey here, intact brains

The World Nation would face off against the White Fang to bring about an end to all conflict between the Colonies and Earth. The plan had called for the bitter end of the last bastion of the old regime, Treize Khushrenada. However, as with every play on the stage of war, the actors have chosen to adlib. Effectively throwing the course of history off the rails, the director finds himself faced with a new road to choose.

@zaganthi

Jiu Jie https://archiveofourown.org/works/31413956

M/M, M/F, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner; Treize Khushrenada/Quatre Raberba Winner; Treize Khushrenada/Duo Maxwell; Duo Maxwell/Hilde Schbeiker

Explicit, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Relationship Negotiation; Polyamorous Character; Quatre Raberba’s Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart; Aged-Up Character(s); Newtypes (Gundam Wing); Past Relationship(s); Jealousy; Awkward Flirting; Bathing/Washing; Cuddling & Snuggling; Museums; talking about feelings; Psychic Bond; Dealing with exes; Ex Sex; Colonists exploring earth

Hilde waved goodbye as she left and Duo went to look for Treize and Quatre. What the hell was wrong with him. His body seemed to be saying yes but his mind was definitely not in that space at all. What the everlasting hell was going on. He wanted to see her again but why?

Treize passed him a picture of tree frogs, apparently feeling the confusion as Duo half jogged through the aquarium to catch back up. What the hell. Just what the hell.

It took him a while to get there, but the moment he got close, Quatre saw him, beamed a happy smile and the link opened up with a rush and he was surrounded again in emotional warmth. It was addictive and a relief, and there wasn’t, there wasn’t any recrimination from either of them. Just run off and see an old flame, it’s cool, we’ll be here when you get back vibes.

Lebensmüde https://archiveofourown.org/works/31413278

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner; Treize Khushrenada/Quatre Raberba Winner; Treize Khushrenada/Duo Maxwell

Explicit, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Aged-Up Character(s); Quatre Raberba’s Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart; Newtypes (Gundam Wing); Preventers (Gundam Wing); Cameos; Therapy; Aftermath of Torture; Aftermath of Violence; Rape Aftermath; Physical Disability; Gratuitous Smut; Psychic Bond; Psychic Abilities; Domestic; Injury Recovery

Treize remembered the discussion of gunpowder residue on his head; it was one of the things John had been livid about after everything, and unable to explain any more than Treize had at the time. Seeing it written down… was something else. Treize closed the book over his finger, gently tapping it on his thigh as he looked up at Quatre.

“The first hot chocolate of the season,” Quatre said sitting down next to him, comfort flowing over the link. “I really wanted something sweet.” He paused. “I can feel something is…oh.” He noticed the book in Treize’s hand.

“Adding to the list of things we need to probably talk about,” he said quietly, contemplating it as he reached with his other hand to take the cocoa. “Have you written everything up?”

Fanart/Crafts/Photo Manips:

@2pcbart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31618103

Recollect - Trowa/WuFei, comic style

@alphaikaros

https://alphaikaros.tumblr.com/post/651358650733150208/little-angry-boi

WuFei Chang, fanart

@bettertasting

https://bettertasting.tumblr.com/post/652303436314017792/something-spicy-for-the-dash-im-really-digging

Heero/Duo, fanart, nsfw

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/652089738925359104/%F0%9D%98%9B%F0%9D%98%A9%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%B4-%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%B4-%F0%9D%98%97%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%B7%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%AF%F0%9D%98%B5%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%B3-%F0%9D%98%9E%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%AF%F0%9D%98%A5-%F0%9D%98%A4%F0%9D%98%A2%F0%9D%98%AD%F0%9D%98%AD%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%AF%F0%9D%98%A8-zechs-merquise

Tallgeese, gunpla

https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/652448694036316160/sd-wing-gundam-ew

Wing, gunpla

@judaru

https://judaru.tumblr.com/post/651257960922857472/im-20-years-late-but-ive-been-reading-a-lot-of

Duo Maxwell, fanart

@keiko1183

https://keiko1183.tumblr.com/post/652327422940807168/completed-with-pencils-might-be-doing-the-acrylics

Trowa/Quatre, fanart

@not-so-dead-fandoms

https://not-so-dead-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/651085636504272896/mermay-01

Heero Yuy, fanart

https://not-so-dead-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/651494132071661568/mermay-02-duo-as-a-betta-fish-merlad

Duo Maxwell, fanart

https://not-so-dead-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/652283083819810816/mermay-03-of-course-i-made-trowa-a-clownfish

Trowa Barton, fanart

@pineappleglazedham

https://pineappleglazedham.tumblr.com/post/651759824584966144

Trieze/Une, fanart, fanfiction, playlist

Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:

@clair-audients

https://clair-audients.tumblr.com/post/652114120696594432

Wing & Altron, gif

@disturbed02girl

https://disturbed02girl.tumblr.com/post/617456995130294273/thoughtful-quatre-thursday

Quatre, manga page

@meggie-stardust

https://meggie-stardust.tumblr.com/post/652350439669547008/same-energy

Epyon is an icon.

Fandom Discourse:

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/651423437954433024/a-homage-to-the-reader-insert

Reader Insert Homage

@cuteciboulette

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/652076342033170432/shinigamis-coming-to-town-d-duo-just

Duo Maxwell, doujinshi

Quotes:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/652102805897805825/in-the-groupchat-trowa-why-tf-do-we-have-20

Trowa & WuFei

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/652356366558806016/heero-yeah-but-as-far-as-plans-go-this-is-not-a

Heero & Quatre

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/651830976331251712/duo-gesturing-to-heero-dont-worry-weve-got-an

Duo, Heero, & WuFei

Calendar Events:

@gundamzine

Rhythm Generation 2021

Meet the Mods: https://gundamzine.tumblr.com/post/636708854145613824/come-on-over-a-meet-your-2021-zine-mod-team-head

Check out the blog for the Zine schedule!

@gundam-wing-pride

Gundam Wing Pride 2k21 https://gundam-wing-pride.tumblr.com/post/648237909672083456/incoming-transmission-faq

A Beautiful Rainbow of Prompts https://gundam-wing-pride.tumblr.com/post/649898271517573120/a-beautiful-rainbow-of-prompts

@gwartserver

Month of WuFei https://gwartserver.tumblr.com/post/649995521569767424/month-of-wufei

Shooting Stars (online convention) https://gwartserver.tumblr.com/post/650013463432888320/once-upon-a-time-lifeaftermeteor-and-myself

@gwcocktailfriday

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompt for Friday, !

In need of Summer/Fall(Autumn) prompts!

(I’ll um... fix these when I have time to find more prompts.)

@gwlemonyshenanigans

May 23rd’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/651999227800600576/may-23rd-submission

May 24th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652131130827571200/may-24th-submissions

May 25th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652252350922342400/may-25th-submissions

May 26th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652312096032342016/may-26th-submissions

May 27th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652433653693136896/may-27th-submissions

May 28th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652434486286548992/may-28th-submission

May 29th’s Submissions https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652648408588353536/may-29th-submissions

Friday Spotlight! https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/652439213602684928/the-lastspotlight-friday

@oztober-rust

Welcome to Oztober Rust

We’re an up and coming Gundam Wing event with a slight twist! This page is still a work in progress, but you’re welcome to join us over on discord and get a feel for the event.

Have discord, will fan. https://oztober-rust.tumblr.com/post/647568110262566912/i-see-a-nice-and-steady-following-we-do-have-a

@seasons-of-gundamwing

Summer Event Voting https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/646220556727877633/seasons-of-gundamwing-okay-wingers-its-time-to

@thisweekingundamevents

Events Calendar https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/644080386309275648/events-calendar-update

If you are hosting an event currently, or are planning on one, hit us up with links and dates! We’ll add them to the Calendar and reblog your notices to get the word out!

[pixie88]

Delilah

Chapter 1 - Alone - Third A&E Series.

A/N: I originally posted this on a side blog but I was having trouble switching between the two and I also didn’t want to start again. As I said there this A&E series is a lot more darker, hitting RL subjects I have been through myself please don’t judge me as you can’t make me feel an worse than I have made myself in the past. The stigma around these subjects are real and so many people don’t speak out about them. Friends and family don’t even know the secrets I will reveal in these chapters as I am ashamed and worry about what they will think. I hope this helps even just one person realise they aren’t alone. I hope you like it 😘

I’m not going to annoy people with re-tags, so I’m not tagging in these first two chapters as most my usual tags have read it.

Find previous chapters HERE under Together - Adam & Ellie.

Word count: 1905

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Angst & adult language.

Pairings: Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy!

A Year and a half after the last chapter of A&E Together.

"She's beautiful, Ellie! A girl! We have a little girl," she looks over to him feeding their daughter. All the panic and worry was worth it! She thought to herself as she's getting stitched up.

16 week's earlier.

This pregnancy had been harder on her than Charlie's, her morning sickness had carried on until 24 weeks, she was in pain with her hips and back. Adam made her give up work at 32 weeks. She was reluctant, but knew he was right, plus at home, she could do more research on shops for sale in London.

By the time she had hit 36 weeks she had found the perfect shop, they had a cheeky weekend away in London to view the property while Ellie's mum had Charlie for them. Being heavily pregnant they didn't do much sight seeing, but they did spent a lot of time tangled beneath the sheets in the hotel room. This would probably be the last time in a long time they would have time alone, so they wanted to make the most of it. 

When they arrived back home Ellie had to sort out the internal and external work. She had put in an offer and was in the proceeds of owning the new shop being, so close to the end of her pregnancy Adam took over all the dealings of the new shop not wanting his wife stressed. 40 weeks Ellie woke on her due date irritated and fed up with being pregnant their little lady showed no signs of wanting to come out.

That afternoon Ellie was in the bathroom when she thought her water had broken, looking down at the floor, she was expecting to see clear waters but instead she saw crimson red puddles of blood. She calls out to Adam who was downstairs soon rushed up to his panicked wife. Shock grew on his face as he saw what had her so panicky. He quickly regained his composure, trying not to worry his heavily pregnant wife.

Adam quickly called her midwife who told them to head to the hospital after dropping Charlie at Elaine's door. He helped an hysterical Ellie into the car. On the way her contractions started they were very close together so when they arrived, he practically had to bridal carry her out to the car with her bag to the labour ward where they handed him a wheel chair. Once in the delivery suite and after a few puffs of gas and air Ellie start to calm down she was so mellow that she wasn't even bothered when the doctor took a sample of her blood, she usually hated blood tests but the gas and air had worked its magic.

When the doctor came in Ellie was completely out of it. Between contractions, she was drifting, those few seconds between each one felt like heaven "Sorry, did you say your name is Doctor Curry? I bet you had the korma taken out of you at school!" she laughs at her own joke, then apologizes when she realised what she had said "Don't worry, I know it's the gas and air talking believe me, I've had worse. We are just going to listen to baby and see how they are! OK?" She nods.

After 10 minutes whooshing the doctor and midwife didn't look very happy with the result "What's wrong?" She asked him. He had that look all doctor have when they're about to tell you bad news "You baby's heart beat keeps dipping" tears started forming in her eyes "Dipping? What do you mean?" He hands her a tissue "Mrs Barlow, we want to deliver your baby as safely as possible and with the fluctuations of their heart beat you have an hour to deliver this baby, or we will have to take you down to theatre for an emergency c-section" her heart sank "But how am I going to have a baby in less than an hour? She just said I'm only 3 centimetres" She looks up at Adam, he's calm which soothe her.

"Well, we need to first break your waters, hopefully that should speed things along a bit. So, I'm going to leave Charlotte here to do that and I will be back in half an hour to see how you are doing" DR. Curry makes his way for the door. "Ellie, after your next contraction I'm going try and break your waters. So, I need you to tell me when it's over, OK?" Ellie nods the next contraction comes and goes. Charlotte successful breaks her waters "That feels so warm!" Ellie laughs just as the next contraction starts to build.

"Oh my god! I feel like I need to push!" She screams as the contraction takes hold. "Ellie if you need to push, then push, but little pushes!" Scared her body is tricking her, she refuses "I can't! You said I was only 3 centimetres. I'm not ready!" She hisses at Charlotte "Hey Ellie, listen to me if that's what your body wants to do then do it. I will keep an eye if nothing happens we will stop! OK? You need to trust what your body is telling you to do!"

The next contraction build she begins to push... crashing Adam's hand in the process until it fades again "You're doing brilliant, beautiful" Adam kisses her forehead "Anything?" She asks her midwife "Well, I can see the top of baby's head..." She's cut off by the next contractions "There's the head" Charlotte tells her "With the next contraction she'll be here" another starts and Ellie pushes again "And here she is 7:43PM welcome to the world little one!" Charlotte says as she cleans her up.

"Ellie, you did it again! She's here!" Adam cups her face and kisses her lips "Skin to skin?" Charlotte asks, Ellie nods "I'll just get Daddy to cut the cord" she looks over to Adam and hands him the scissors. He proudly cuts through the cord before Charlotte moves her to Ellie's chest "Does she have a name?" Charlotte looks at both of them "We're still haven't decid..." she cuts Adam off "Delilah!" Ellie looks up at Adam as the brightest smile appears on his face "Aww that's lovely! Where did you get that from?" She asks the pair.

"It was my Nan's name" Adam says not quite believing she finally had a name and a name that means something to him. "That's sweet! Ellie do you want to give Delilah to Daddy while we get this afterbirth delivered?" Charlotte places Delilah in a towel passes her to Adam as DR. Curry walks in "How are we do...oh baby is here! Wow how long did that take?" He looks over to Charlotte "15 minutes after I broke her water. She had the urge to push right away!" He looks at her stunned "Whoa! That's amazing have you requested her IV drip yet?"

Ellie looks confused "IV drip?" He looks over to her "We estimated you probably lost just over a pint of blood. This will just stop anymore bleeding" Charlotte smiles at a worried Ellie "Nothing to worry about its just because you've lost more than usually. It's routine"

"I'll go and get what we need. While you finish up in here" DR. Curry says as he leave the room.

Later, Charlotte has shift had ended and a new midwife had taken over "When can I go for a shower?" Ellie asks her new midwife Demi she wanders over checks the IV drip monitor "You have another 45 minutes on this then you should be OK" another midwife walks in and calls Demi out of the room a few minutes later she comes back in "We are going to have to move you up to postnatal ward now" Ellie looked shocked with Charlie's Labour she was allowed to have a shower before heading up.

Her legs were still covered in blood as well as her hospital gown. She got off the bed with her IV drip and into a wheelchair, Adam close behind with Delilah. She gets into her cubicle and take a seat in the chair after the midwife leave, she bursts into tears Adam puts Delilah down in her cot and rushes over to his wife "Hey, what's up beautiful?"

She looks up at him "Everything I'm covered in blood, I'm still in this awful thing. I want get into bed, but I can't sit on there like this! I want to cuddle my baby, but my arms are cover in blood. I feel dirty like I'm a cast member of the walking dead! And from what it sounds like we have a snorer the other side of this stupid curtain" He lifts up his wife's chin "Watch Delilah I'll be back in a minute" he gets up and leaves the cubicle through the curtain.

10 minutes later he comes back with a wheel chair and a midwife "You help her into the chair and grab her bag I'll grab baby" the midwife tells Adam. Wiping her tears she looks up at him "What's going on?" He smiles at her "You'll see now come on!" He lifts her out of her chair and into the wheel chair. They walk down the hall and through a door. Once inside she spots another bed and a bathroom "Adam?"

She looks up at him "This was the last one they had!" She looks at him still confused, he laughs, "£90 a night for a private room with a bath in the bathroom and this lovely lady has said if you've had over 80 percent of that drip she'll take it off you, so you can go for a soak" her eyes well up and she starts to cry again.

"It suppose to make you happy not sad!" He laughs, "Happy tears!" The midwife smiles at them both as she catches sight of Ellie, she shook her head "Oh dear, look at the state of you! They let you come up here like that! You poor thing, let me put her next to the bed and get you off this. Even if I have to put you back on after you can't sit like that!" She puts Delilah next the bed and takes Ellie off the drip before helping her to the bathroom.

20 minutes later all fresh from her shower, she emerges from the bathroom in her own comfortable clothes. Adam is changing Delilahs nappy. He looks up "Feeling better?" She smiles as she nods at him before she gets onto the bed next him. She places a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you!" He looks over to her "Why are you thanking me? You did all the hard work!" He places Delilah back in her cot "You were calm while I was losing it! I crashed your hand and you spent money on a hospital room just to make me happy!"

He laughs, "I did have my own motives! No one, not even me was going to sleep with a motorbike snoring next door!" he pulls her to his chest and pulls over the blanket over the both of them "We better sleep while she does. So, night beautiful!" She kisses his cheek "Night! I love you!" She feels him chuckle "I love you more"

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 2.

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Lost and Found

Whumptober Day 25: I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks Prompt: Disorientation

After two days lost in the wilderness, Eric and the Jims are doing poorly. When help finally arrives, they’re too out of it to appreciate it. (continued from “Down, Down, Down”)

Warnings: Head injury, vomiting mentions

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

On the first full day of Eric and the Jims being stranded at the bottom of the ravine, they drink through their last water bottle.

The crushed granola bars weren’t enough to keep them from waking up hungry, and not even finishing off their water can stop the hunger pains from increasing throughout the day. RJ goes off to find food, but Eric is worried about what he might return with. Any mushroom or berry around here could easily be poisonous. RJ eventually returns not with food, but with news of a creek up ahead that they could get more water from. Eric is pretty sure they’d have to boil it to drink it safely, but the only container they have is their water bottle. When RJ makes another trip to the creek and comes back with a bottle full of water, though, Eric is less concerned. The water looks fine, and the sun is so hot, and the hunger hasn’t abated. So he and RJ drink, and they give some to CJ, too.

At least, they try; CJ is still barely conscious with no strength to drink on his own, and most of the water drips past his lips and down his neck. Every once in a while he groans and tries to sign something, but his hands are no clearer than they were the day before. Eric spends most of the day with him as RJ makes countless trips with their water bottle. His attempts to find food all fail, and the three go to sleep still hungry.

The second day begins when Eric wakes up with revulsion already crawling up his throat. He vomits creek water onto the ground beside him as RJ, newly awoken by Eric’s retching, rubs his back and tries to comfort him – until he has to vomit, too, and stumbles away from where the group has been sleeping to puke up yesterday’s water.

“Was there something in the water?” Eric gasps between heaves.

“I don’t know,” RJ coughs, “It could be because we haven’t eaten, too.”

A few hours pass. Eric and RJ continue to retch on and off, even when nothing more comes up. CJ, meanwhile, never so much as gags. He ate as little as the others did, but he barely drank any water, and in that Eric and RJ have their answer.

The repeated vomiting leaves RJ too weak to go looking for food again, or for a better source of water. Not that Eric much notices; his broken arm is hurting worse than it has before. The limb is swollen and discolored, and Eric can’t help but fear how much worse it is under the skin. RJ curls up, rubbing his bruises, probably aching all over from his own fall down the ravine. CJ still looks terrible; the wound on his head is inflamed, and his pupils still don’t match. He makes less noise than he did the day before, his attempts to sign are fewer and even less effective. Eric expects he won’t be able to sleep when night falls, but his aches and worries catch up to him and drag him under alarmingly fast.

The third day is hell.

Eric wakes up and doesn’t feel rested. His stomach is in knots, as though with no food available it has decided to eat itself instead. RJ is curled up again, whimpering. CJ is still asleep, or maybe he’s unconscious. The thought should send a pang of fear through Eric, but he doesn’t have the strength to be scared, he doesn’t have enough awareness to be afraid. Thoughts float in and out of his mind, thoughts of home, thoughts of the others, thoughts of rescue, but none of them strike any emotion. He’s too weak to feel a thing. He falls in and out of sleep, and he suspects RJ does, too. He can barely remember that there’s people with him, barely recall anything outside himself. It’s only hot. He’s only exhausted.

At some point in the day, something changes. It takes Eric several moments to realize that some new people have shown up. He can’t concentrate on what that means and watch the figures approach him at the same time, so he stops thinking and watches Bim and Wilford approach him.

“Oh god, guys, can you hear me!?” Bim half-asks, half-shrieks, frantic with worry. He dashes to Eric – and to the twins, Eric remembers their presence. Bim manages to wake RJ, who groans as he’s shaken out of his slumber.

“Good lord, what happened to you three?” Wilford asks Eric, looking uncharacteristically concerned. Eric’s throat is too dry for him to answer.

“CJ? CJ??” Bim says as he gently shakes CJ’s shoulder, trying to wake him. “CJ, come on, Cam, wake up!” The fear in his voice kicks up a notch. “Oh god, Cammie, buddy, please wake up–”

“Let’s get them home,” Wilford says, firmly but gently, interrupting Bim’s terrified ramble.

“Right, right,” he gasps. He carefully scoops up CJ, making sure to support his head. Wilford, meanwhile, picks up both RJ and Eric, holding them in one arm each. Wilford runs hot, but compared to the heat of the sun and dirt Eric’s been sitting on, he’s a welcome chill. Eric lets his head loll against Wilford’s shoulder as the group is teleported away.

The moment in Wilford’s void sends a bout of nausea through Eric, one that manifests as a sharp pain in his empty stomach. He groans as the group appears in the clinic. It takes a moment for his head to stop swimming as Bim yells for Dr. Iplier.

“Doc, we found them!” he cries, “They’re hurt, especially CJ!”

Dr. Iplier comes running in and spares a moment to look at all three sick, weakened egos before zeroing in on CJ.

“Christ, Bim, I won’t mince words,” Dr. Iplier mutters as he pries open CJ’s eyes to shine a light into them, “CJ’s on death’s door. This head injury he’s got must be doing awful things to his brain. I need Green and I need to get CJ into surgery now.”

“What about the others?” Wilford asks over Bim’s wail.

“Just get them each into a bed,” Dr. Iplier says, already turning to rush to the operating room, motioning for Bim to follow. “Grab Google or Ollie to put them on IVs and examine them further; anything else can wait.”

Wilford obeys. As soon as Eric’s head hits the cool pillow of his clinic bed, he falls asleep.

~~~

When Eric wakes up, his mind is much clearer. He’s still in a clinic bed, but there’s IVs in his good arm and a cast on his broken one. His warped and broken prosthetics have been removed, too. Eric feels sore and achy and still very hungry, but his bed is comfortable, and he’s finally out of the sun. Now that he can think straight, he’s worried about the twins again.

Some of the worry dissipates when he looks to the side and sees RJ in his own bed, with his own IVs and bandages. RJ is already awake, and he grins to see Eric’s eyes on him.

“You okay, AJ?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” Eric answers, “You too?”

“Yeah,” RJ replies. His face falls a little. “I don’t know about CJ, though. He’s not on my other side.”

Eric looks at his own other side, but no, CJ isn’t there either. His heart clenches with fear. He remembers how badly CJ was hurt and shudders.

Fortunately, that’s when Eric hears footsteps coming towards him and RJ. The pair look to see Dr. Iplier opening the door to their hospital room.

“Hey, you’re both awake,” Dr. Iplier says, smiling gently. “According to Wilford, you guys were asleep the moment he put you both down. You’ve been asleep for hours, how are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” RJ says.

“I can imagine,” Dr. Iplier replies, walking in to check on each ego’s IVs, “You’ve been missing for a few days. Wilford and Bim said they found you at the bottom of a ravine.”

“We fell,” Eric admits, “We had supplies, but they got crushed.”

“We tried drinking river water,” RJ adds, “But it, um, didn’t work out that well.”

“I can imagine that, too,” Dr. Iplier sighs, “But at least you’re both alive. And you should both heal up fine.”

“What about CJ?” RJ murmurs like he’s afraid to ask. Eric looks up at Dr. Iplier anxiously, waiting for a response. Fortunately, Dr. Iplier smiles again.

“He made it through surgery,” he says, “He’s in his own room. He was badly hurt, that head injury caused significant swelling in his brain. He’s still asleep, and I’ll be keeping him asleep for a day or two to make sure he heals well. I know that sounds scary,” he adds in response to the horrified looks on Eric and RJ’s faces, “But it’s necessary. And between you and me…” He leans down between them like he’s telling a secret, and Eric and RJ lean in to listen. “…His time looks good. I’m confident he’ll pull through. If he were a human...” Dr. Iplier shakes his head. “Well, if he were a human, he wouldn’t have been alive for me to perform brain surgery on in the first place. But if he’d lived that long, he’d be looking at a week or more in a coma, and even then, he’d have a lot of brain damage upon waking. But CJ’s a figment, so when he wakes up in a couple days, you can expect him to act like normal - though he might not remember a lot of the last few days.”

Eric and RJ look at each other. Eric figures they’re both thinking the same thing: It’s probably good that CJ won’t remember that harrowing experience. For his part, Eric hopes he’ll eventually be able to forget.

[goose-books]

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

I.

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

[soren-bleu-kun]

BnHA Fics I’ve Read This Week 1

I read and review a lot of fics, every week. Here is the list from last Friday, to today. Let me know if I should I do this next week. 

Bloom in Winter - God linking all the art for this was a bitch in my google document, but worth it. In this uncompleted and seemingly abandoned twelve chapter fic where Midoriya is forced to work with villains with his analytical abilities. The story picks up when he finds out that he’s going to have to infiltrate UA as a General Studies student in order to find a way to help kill his idol, All Might. 

The Sun in My Eyes - This is a MomoJirou fic where the two girls meet at a young age and slowly fall in love as they grow up together. A fast read, and really cute. 

Trust Fall - This is a cute little fic that I think is supposed to end on a note of a possible relationship between Shinsou and Midoriya. Basically, the 2A addition to the UA Cultural Festival is a cat café, and while chasing one down both Midoriya and the cat he was chasing end up stuck in a tree, and it’s Shinsou to the rescue. 

What’s She Got That I Don’t? - This is a one-shot where we see Kirishima tell Bakugou that he has a crush on him. Getting rejected, he expected that. What he didn’t expect was for Bakugou to turn around and ask out Uraraka the very next day. This one-shot was good, but painful at times. 

I. Shaky Hands - This is the beginning of rexcorvidae’s incomplete Whumptober Series. I did not review every single piece of this series, but it does kick off with a very good start. Dadzawa to the rescue when he realizes that - with all the damage that Midoriya’s done to them - his problem child can’t use a pen well, or a pair of chopsticks. 

[Because this was a series of unconnected stories, I will be putting each one that I reviewed after this] 

III. Delirium - Midoriya gets sick out of the blue in the UA dorms, attacks some students in his delirious state, and collapses. The whump is just spectacular and I love any story that features a character that thinks their friends are their enemies 

IV. Human Shield - While taking Midoriya out for ice cream, he and Yagi get attacked. His brilliant solution to save his mentor? Jump in front of the bullet and almost die. There is some good Dad Might in this fic. 

VII. Isolation - Warning, this fic deals with Suicidal Ideation. Basically, what would happen if Midoriya took Bakugou’s middle school taunting as far as it could have gone. It ends with him standing on a roof, read at your own risk. 

XV. Scars - Midoriya has scars from the years of violent bullying that he went through and they don’t go unnoticed by his mentor. On the other side of the coin, Midoriya doesn’t want to tell Yagi who did it because he knows that if the people who tormented him don’t get to slide into being the heroes that they don’t deserve to be, they could be terrible villains. I honestly love this fic, it deserves everything. 

XVI. Stitches - This is an AU where Nighteye finds Midoriya at a pretty young age, sees the sort of analytical work that he can do, and has him intern at his office [and holds onto his notebooks for him, since there’s a lot of dangerous information in there, even if Midoriya doesn’t understand that when they first meet]. This story takes place a few years into that internship, when Midoriya collapses at work after the stitches he put in himself after another round of violent assault from his classes gets infected. 

XVIII. Muffled Screams - The last fic in this series that I reviewed, and it is a painful one, quite literally for Midoriya. In this story, he has been kidnapped, and he has one job. Don’t scream. Of course, this is difficult as he gets tortured, but he has to, because the villain promises that if he makes a noise, someone he cares about will die. We see this from the live feed that is being broadcast of the torture, with Yamada, Aizawa, and Yagi. 

Is it the Thunder in the Distance - This is a good little one-shot featuring Yagi spending the night at the Midoriya household and finding his successor sleeping on the floor right outside of his room. All in all, this is a very good fic and I like it a lot. Note, the actual name of the fic is much longer, but I am not writing the entire thing out again. 

If I’m Losing Again, Quiet Me Down - This takes place during the Stain Arc, when Midoriya is sitting in the hospital with Todoroki and Iida. While calling around to make sure that people know that he’s okay, he ends up having a panic attack. There is a soft ending to this one. 

I’ll Carry You Home - This was a debut fic for the author on Ao3, and it features Yagi carrying an exhausted Midoriya home after a long day of training. Most adorably, he accidentally calls his mentor “dad,” and when Midoriya wakes up enough to realize what he said there is a lot of apologizing. All in all a cute story. 

Growing Like You - This is a short one-shot featuring Midoriya finding out that one of the side affects of his new Quirk is that he’s growing, fast and a lot. Trying to find him something to wear, Yagi ends up stumbling across a box of his old UA clothes, and he gives it to Midoriya. 

Feelings of a Fanboy - This is one of those “What if Midoriya had a Quirk” stories, and they are some of my favorite kinds of fanfics out there. In this one, his power is called Emotional Rush. Basically, the more he feels, the stronger and faster he gets. This goes up to right around/before the Stain Arc. 

Father’s Day - This is a fic that features Hisashi Midoriya not really being around and Yagi stepping into the paternal role in Midoriya’s life, something that they both seem to need. 

Define “Villainy” - This is more or less a crack fic where Tsuyu realizes that literally no one in her class has tried to stop her from straight up attempting to murder Mineta, and they will probably continue to let her because no one in the class actually likes him. 

Anything, Anything - This is a fic that I already recommended to someone, and it is so good. This is a fic that features eventual TodoDoriya, where the two of them keep running into each other in the UA Dorms common room whenever they wake up from nightmares. 

Those Hardest to Love Need it the Most - This is a Dadzawa fic where Aizawa finds out that Midoriya was extremely mistreated at his middle school and opens up an investigation in hopes of taking the place down for Quirk discrimination. 

All the Signs - This is a crack fic for what I consider a bit of a crack ship, Huyumi. Basically, Fuyumi gets pregnant with Hawks’ kid and starts acting a little... bird like. The author, ohmytheon, is fantastic and I have read so much of their stuff. 

Come Home - This fic breaks my entire heart. This is a story where Touya and Fuyumi Todoroki are twins, two halves of the same whole. This goes through their childhood together, right up to the end where Fuyumi watches Touya being Dabi on TV and refuses to rat him out. She just wishes that he would come back. 

Who Will Protect Them - USJ 2.0, taking place when 1A has become 3A. After getting slammed into a wall and not being able to get back up, Aizawa wonders who’ll protect his class, before realizing that they’re more than keeping their own. He’s proud... and he’ll be even more proud if he survives this. 

Darken Your Door - This is a fic that deals with neglect, emotional abuse, and manipulation. While on a run to a corner store with Midoriya, Aizawa gets to meet his students estranged father. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that his student is extremely uncomfortable around his parent. From then on he wraps Hisashi Midoriya in more red tape than he’ll be able to get out from under. No one talks to his students unless his students want to hear from that person. 

Mouth Shut (Eyes Down) - A story in which Midoriya does not trust adults because they were the ones that let Bakugou and the rest of his bullies get away with assaulting him. He accidentally admits this to Aizawa after being stabbed when he thought he could “handle” getting stalked. 

A Touch of Hope - This is technically a soulmates fic, where you find your soulmate after physical contact. Shinsou was not expecting to find his at UA, nor was he expecting that it would give him an opportunity to join the Hero Course if he can prove himself. 

Voiceless - This is a shorter fic, only 1K, and it features Midoriya losing his voice when he gets sick and Shinsou taking care of him. It’s pretty cute. 

Creating Music - This is a three chapter fic taking place over two days, the day before and the day of Valentine’s Day. This is a MomoJirou fic that is really cute and sentimental. I love it so much. 

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year - In this fic, Midoriya is a dumbass and Shinsou finds his crush stuck to a pole by his tongue. He is not wearing a coat, and he has been stuck like this for a long time. 

Hook, Line, and Sinker - This is a great EraserMic fic in a Quirkless AU, where Aizawa thinks that his tinder date it a catfish because there is no way internationally famous singer Hizashi Yamada just matched with him. Note, there is smut in either the second or third chapter. 

Ask Me No Questions, I’ll Tell You No Lies - This is a silly little fic where Shinsou and Midoriya share a hotel room. Before you ask, there are two beds. There is a kiss, but that’s about it. A little OOC for Midoriya, but still pretty good. 

Shinsou the Local Cryptic - This is a fic where Shinsou becomes an internet meme of his own creating. It’s honestly pretty fun, and I had a good time with this one-shot. 

You Anchor Me Back Down - This is a one-shot with some fun art in it. When Todoroki is hit with a random Quirk that causes him to float whenever he’s happy, it’s difficult for him to keep his crush on Midoriya a secret. This takes place during their third year. 

Cosmic Confluence - Wonderful Shinsou-Centric fic where he’s a reaper and it’s his job to watch over Izuku Midoriya until he dies. I wish that there was more of this fic that I could read because the idea of this is so interesting.

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Alabaster: Delicate Dance of Chance IV

 Alabaster found Pax in Camp Othrys, hiding with the laundry bins. There were few places Axel couldn’t smell his little brother out. This laundry room was one of them. A logical choice if Pax wanted to avoid being found. Alabaster almost forfeited his plan at the reek of towels soaked in demigod sweat and monster ooze—all cottony causalities from that morning’s training session.

One blanket trembled in the far corner of the room. Judging from its lack of filth, Pax, fortunately, must have swiped it from a clean pile. The blanket went still when Alabaster stepped alongside of it.

He hoped he hadn’t mistaken his friend for two demigods getting intimate. No. The sheet tucked tight enough to show Pax’s form: his legs curled up and arms folded atop them, looking like the grumpiest B-rate ghost. Alabaster nudged dirty towels away with his foot and settled down beside the blanket.

Alabaster lifted the small paperback from his stack of two books. The cover had a few stains and was a little too dingy for Alabaster to have kept in a library if he was a librarian. He cracked it open. The coarseness of the pages felt wonderful, even if he didn’t prefer the first page’s sketch of a baby. At an utter, a reading rune glowed on his necklace, bringing the font to proper focus.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,” Alabaster read, “They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”

The blanket ghost stopped shaking and sniffling. Alabaster paused in his oration, as though about to turn a page—a ridiculous notion. What book had a page turn after one short paragraph? He berated himself, forgetting the beautiful opening of, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness… The best example of a necessary run-on sentence. Regardless of A Tale of Two Cities, Alabaster had paused here so Pax could comment.

“Is—is that Harry Potter?” Pax squeaked.

Instead of answering, Alabaster continued to read, past the turn of a page, until he came upon the sentence, “It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar—a cat reading a map.” [1]

Alabaster hadn’t meant to stop there. His breath choked. Sphinx, Lelly’s late cat, had been able to read maps. A brilliant Mist form, she’d been able to do so much more than that: a utilitarian helper in the lab and a compassionate friend to his little sister.

For the first time since he, Pax, and Axel had almost been captured by Romans, Alabaster pressed a hand over his mouth. His eyes felt warm. Every time he’d let Lou Ellen cry in his arms, he’d kept focused on his hatred of the Romans and on their own undiscovered traitor. Why, now, with this stupid, juvenile book, did he find himself choking up over the loss? Over a cat that could read a map?

Pax misunderstood his silence as another page break. “You… You said you would only read me books for educational purposes. And, and that Harry Potter was a ‘gross misrepresentation of magic and b-better as a study of plot holes,’” the words came out a rapid jumble of—presumably—snot and hiccups. They were a distracting relief to Alabaster.

“You wanted to read it. No one would read it to you. This is an apology, not for my unrequited feelings, but for the boarish delivery of my response. This is my attempt, over the next seven hours of reading, an hour per evening this week, to prove that nothing needs to change between us, that we can still be friends.”

The sheet ghost crept closer.  “Friends,” Pax echoed, “We’re friends?”

He didn’t even know if we were friends, but was still willing to express his infatuation? Alabaster growled. Instead of pointing out the error in logic, he said, “Don’t get cocky. It’s not every day that I get a willing lab assistant with no sense of self-preservation.”

The next noise sounded like a choked laugh.

“Is your arm functional?” Alabaster asked, examining the blanket. “Jack never found you to tend to it.”

The ghost extended its limb out without any apparent pain or struggle.

Alabaster sighed in relief as Pax lowered his arm back down. He tapped two fingers on the edge of the book. This will be fine, he assured. Nothing needs to change. All he needed was the affirmation from Pax. “Are my terms acceptable to you?”

Pax laughed. The chime was more genuine. “You don’t have a lot of practice apologizing, do you?”

“Ajax.”

The sheet ghost rested its head against Alabaster’s thigh. After a pause, Pax squirmed further into his lap. Something familial, Alabaster decided. He wouldn’t know. He didn’t grow up with any of his half-siblings and his grandparents hadn’t been touchy. In his fatherly charades, Jack often let Pax curl up on his lap. Axel spent plenty of time shoving Pax off him when Pax was sleepy and wanted a nap.

“Will you read it in a British accent?” Pax asked, poking the book’s binding.

Six to seven hours of reading in a fake British accent? Alabaster weighed his options. He could double check to assure there was no recording equipment in the room, though he doubted Pax would press their fragile friendship with such antics. “…yes.”

“Will you make Ron’s voice higher in pitch?”

“Shut up and let me read to you.” Alabaster found where he left off and pressed his lips at the cat reading a map. He continued, lilting his words in what he hoped was a British accent. He never had the ease with accents that the Pax brothers did.

Pax didn’t complain. His breathing eased by the time Alabaster finished the next page.

At the end of the third chapter, Alabaster decided he would send Pax to bed with the other book in hand, the one for Axel (who had better not ask Alabaster to read to him). That was the other half of his plan. That book had a passage marked with a simple question, “Who is John Galt to you?” The question and passage should be subtle enough. They would strike conversations with Axel about tyranny and freewill without rousing suspicion from others. Then…

Alabaster scowled.

What would happen? What would happen if their talk of evil tyranny led to discussions of overthrowing Luke? The three of them, Pax, Axel, and he, worked well together in a stressful situation. The crowds took well to them when they were on stage. Alabaster was irritated to think a name like the Triple A Chimera (Pax didn’t even go by his first “a” name) could be useful, let alone a symbol for change, but what if it could? A symbol for liberation through insurrection.

He needed to reflect on this with his mother. Her wisdom was years beyond his own, and she could reveal their different potential futures, one that might involve the “Triple A Chimera” slaying a corrupt titan.

“We work well together. With our skill sets combined, we could make an excellent assassination team,” Alabaster muttered.

“Um… Uncle Vernon started to assassinate wizards?” Pax asked. He pulled the sheet partially off and rolled to stare up at Alabaster. His eyes were wide.

Alabaster hadn’t meant to speak aloud. “No—well—we don’t know yet. He might, judging off their insistence to break into his house.”

“But, the wizards could just magic him to pieces, right?”

“No. No, bullets work quite effectively against wizards.” Though, less so against brats with the Achilles’ curse. Luke’s weak spot was under his arm, where Axel had hefted him out of the River Styx. Kelly and Jack were the only two that Luke would let close enough to touch him there. And, Kelly would immediately rat Alabaster out if he suggested killing Kronos after the war.

What about poison? Could you kill a cursed of Achilles from the inside?

Pax pulled the sheet the rest of the way off. His amber and black eyes were so startled, they might roll out of their sockets. “Are you thinking about assassinating wizards?” With the sheet off and his sleeves rolled up, Alabaster could see bruises along Pax’s arm. The injury must have hurt more than he let on.

Alabaster sighed.

Pax wasn’t ready to talk about this sort of thing. Although the child of Eris held it together against the Romans, Alabaster noted how Pax tried not to kill anyone. Besides, right now, Alabaster was supposed to focus on being nice to Pax, not using him as a tool in this cosmic power struggle.

Alabaster removed a blank spell card from his stash and placed it between the pages as a bookmarker. “What you don’t realize Pax, is, after the events of the book series, and after he went mad with power, that I killed Harry Potter.”

Pax’s jaw dropped open at the thought. “That is a fanficiton I would read.”

“I’m sure you would. I forbid you from having Jack compose a ballad about it. [2] Come on. Let’s get you back to your tent. I have something I need to give to Axel.”

As they made their way back through camp, others were trickling in from the party. From what Alabaster heard, buses had been rented (in place of giant-carting death traps like Alabaster had to take). Some were loud with revelry; others were quiet with subtle glances tender touches, all hinting at future intimacy.  

Pax didn’t speak as they walked. Under typical circumstances, Alabaster would have prayed for this. Faced with the silence, only occasionally alleviated by passing partiers, tension dug Alabaster’s fingers into his library books. Would the lab be like this in the upcoming weeks? Awkwardly quiet? Pax’s chatter and excitement made for soothing white noise. “Not that I’m regretting the ability to think without interruption, but are you alright?” he asked.

Pax’s jammed his hands into his punk jacket, toying with something in his left pocket. Alabaster knew it was probably one of those apples—the ones Pax’s mother gave him each morning to turn into someone else. “Just thinking.”

A warm breeze slithered through camp and Alabaster realized how exhausted he was. Emotional stress was tiring. He cleared his throat. “Ajax—”

“Matthias and I were talking about sneaking into the girl’s bath house again. He perfectly measured the amount of water you need to fill a balloon to simulate a realistically filled bra, and I think he makes a lovely lady when he raises his voice a few octaves,” Pax spoke quickly and adverted his gaze. This mustn’t have been what he wanted to talk about.

Another sigh choked in Alabaster’s throat. “Wait—you’re not thinking about turning into one of the girls, are you?! Ajax, that’s absolutely unethical—”

“What? No!” Pax cried. “I would not! Then, I couldn’t prove that my hair can be tamed by no amount of conditioner! Lucille thinks I just don’t use enough.”

“Prometheus and I should place a bet on how quickly you’ll be kicked out.” Alabaster shook his head. “I forbid Lou Ellen from helping you in any way, shape, or form and I certainly hope you haven’t discovered a new gift of magic, only to debut it with something so juvenile.”

“Hey!” Pax protested, “Mercedes would agree: if Matthias and I do a security test on the girl’s bath house and find it wanting, then we’ve done a favor in pointing out its weakness.”

“I’m not even the one you’re spying on and I get catharsis at the thought of your comeuppance.”

They neared the Pax brothers’ tent.

Alabaster debated whether he should give Mercedes a warning about their plan or if she’d find that insulting to her skills as an intelligence gatherer. If the Nord was strapping on a bosom and a wig and walking in the front, then it would probably be the latter.

Still, he was obligated to ask, “You haven’t found an alternative non-magic route to become invisible or a woman—”

Pax withdrew the golden apple from his pocket and nipped it.

Nothing happened, which was peculiar. Eris’ apples of mischief were never duds. Godly item only malfunctioned by intentional design. Usually, Pax turned into someone when he ate his apples, something Mercedes was thrilled to use for spy missions and something she’d only allowed Pax to tell Alabaster, Lou Ellen, Jack, and Flynn. (Alabaster suspected Mercedes’ fear—that Luke would abuse this to see Annabeth sooner, even if it wasn’t really her.)

The longer Alabaster examined Pax, the more he noticed subtleties: Pax’s jaw line softened, his shoulders looked slimmer, something far less subtle about his curvature—

“It worked!” Pax laughed, grabbing at his—no—no—her—chest and lifting. “Oh my gods—Alabaster—they dance! You put your right tit in, you put your right tit out, you put your right tit in and you shake it all about—ow.”

Alabaster shrieked and jumped backwards.

Pax, didn’t seem to notice. He—she was too busy turning to do the Hokey Pokey and giggling. “Oo! Ow, okay. Gentle with the titties. I’ll have to name them. Huh, weird that I never thought to name them before—”

“Ajax!” Alabaster repeated in horror. He was at such a loss for logical words, he resorted to profanities. “What the fuck?!”

Alabaster’s heartbeat pounded so loud in his head that he couldn’t think. He adverted his gaze to the ground. His face felt like it was on fire. Panic, it dawned, I’m panicking more than I did during Rome’s attack.

A bloodcurdling comment came from the tent as someone stepped out.

“Ajax! I’m glad you’re….” The word “back” died on Axel’s lips. “You’re a girl.”

Alabaster looked at Axel, keeping one hand firmly between his eyes and where Pax was dancing. He assumed Axel would be staring at his little brother with the same shock Alabaster felt. Instead, Axel scowled at Alabaster with the intent of a crouching jaguar. “Torrington.” Threat and accusation rolled out with the growl. Tension made the muscles in Axel’s neck strain.

Alabaster’s jaw dropped. “It—it wasn’t me!”

“It had better not have been.”

The movement behind Alabaster’s hand minimized. “Am…. Am I not allowed to be a girl?” Pax’s question was quiet and insecure.

Axel’s response was immediate. From his lack of surprise or hesitation, Alabaster wondered if Axel had been expecting this for years. “You can be whatever you want.” Axel gently ruffled Pax’s unruly hair. Alabaster lowered his hand to watch the interaction, to see Pax’s fragile smile at her brother’s approval.

Seeing Pax like this troubled Alabaster, striking some uncanny valley in the approximation to his friend. All the other times Pax had shifted around Alabaster, it had been into completely different people (pretending to be Jason Grace or Luke Castellan) or completely different species (mostly weasels since Lou Ellen struggled to turn people into much else). The scientific and magic-loving part of Alabaster’s brain should have found this fascinating—could Pax alter individual features about himself? Maybe give himself freckles, change his hair, skin, or eye color, or have a pincer in place of a hand? Why did he feel uncomfortable instead?

Axel had continued to speak, “As long as you want to be one and aren’t doing it for someone else.”

Pax tilted her head, spilling her hair off to the side. “Why would I do it for someone else?”

Axel glared at Alabaster again. Word must have spread about why Pax ran from the dance. With the ordering of events, the potential problem was obvious, though Alabaster had hoped that Axel would think better of him. “Oh, for Kronos’ sake!” he hissed. “Axel—I—he just did this! I didn’t ask him to.”

Axel finally broke eye contact to glance at Pax’s continued dancing. “Ajax,” he sighed, “What did we talk about with touching yourself in public?”

“That it’s inappropriate—oh!” Pax dropped her chest. She made quite the buxom lady and it furthered Alabaster’s discomfort. “My chest is inappropriate now… Man, that doesn’t seem fair for girls. I get why Lucille says it’s sexist bullshit. The titties should fly free—”

“Ajax!” both Alabaster and Axel snapped.

“Sorry. I normally can’t touch myself when I turn into other people because, uh, I turned into someone else, that’s their body, and that would be creepy—”

“At least you have some moral sense,” Alabaster muttered.

“But, I’m just me right now—”

“You’re just you in public,” Axel said, “And, you’re my sibling. Don’t do that in front of me. Or anyone for that matter.” Whatever Axel had predicted about this situation, Pax’s unorthodox dancing hadn’t been part of it.[3] “And don’t think Flynn is going to let us off dawn training just because there was a party in our honor.” Despite Axel’s suspicion of Alabaster, he flashed both of them a smile that might have been… cocky? Proud?

This party had been for them. Although they assuredly would have died without Jack and Flynn’s rescue, Jack happily spun the tale as an exclusively victory for the Triple A Chimera. They had worked well together, with Pax’s expert surveillance granting the opportunity to prepare, Axel’s mastery of terror and tactic, and Alabaster’s magical subterfuge. The books in Alabaster’s hands felt heavy. He withdrew the one thick enough to glaze the eyes of the feeble and handed it to Axel.

“Some light philosophy for meditation.” Alabaster hoped his voice sounded metered and not high with residual panic. “If you grow bored with the length, I marked the chapter that best encapsulates the theory. Well, the primary one of discussion.” Axel was smart, but could grow tired of things he found meandering. Worry made Alabaster swallow. What if Axel mistook the recommendation as idle chatter? What if he understood and reported him to Mercedes? Or worse, Luke himself?

Alabaster visualized Axel’s rigid posture as he stood between Luke and Annabeth’s door. There were details Luke had surely missed: the way Alabaster prepped a spell, the way Mercedes reached for darts that she kept pinned under her shirt, the accumulation of Axel’s energy as he prepped a jaguar transformation. In that room, Alabaster learned these were people who would fight for what was ethically correct, even to defend an enemy, even against a titan.

All of them were probably afraid of the same thing: expressing that their leader had lost his mind. Maybe, Axel needed a nudge in the form of a book.

Axel took it and frowned at the cover. “Atlas shrugged?” he read aloud, “That’s a little tasteless considering what happened to the General on Mount Tam.”

Alabaster smirked. He’d never liked Atlas much in the first place. “I’m glad we’re all alive. Good night, Axel.” He nodded his head and turned to Pax. In the moment, he’d forgotten Pax wasn’t his typical self.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, making it ever more apparent how differently she was shaped. “Thanks for staying my friend,” she whispered into his shirt.

Alabaster’s face felt hot. Although he hated the word, he could find no better adjective to address the situation other than, “This is weird.”

“Yea, this is weird.” Axel grumbled. Alabaster could hear his eye roll. “But turning us into weasels and polecats? Completely normal.”

“That is normal!” Alabaster snapped. My normal. One of Pax’s swirling black hairs had slid against his chin and he blew it away. The indents of her face felt warm as she burrowed against his chest. A puff of mint—Pax must have been chewing gum—flooded Alabaster’s senses, sending them into hyper-awareness.

Alabaster gently put a hand on either of Pax’s shoulders and removed her. Holding Pax a foot away, Alabaster flashed back to the first time they’d met. “Can you really do magic?” she’d asked, tugging at his sleeve and batting her lashes. He thought Pax was a girl, then, and been humiliated upon finding his mistake. What made someone a boy or a girl? Belief? And if it was belief, and not biological presets, what did that belief entail?  

He cleared his throat. Her amber and black eyes were wide, a little afraid, and Alabaster slipped his grip from her shoulders, hoping they hadn’t been there for an inappropriate amount of time.

“Are you okay?” Pax asked. “Do you need another hug? Prometheus approved: he says my hugs are cure alls.”

“No,” Alabaster said quickly. In attempt to make the denial seem less desperate, he added, “No, I think the only person who might be able to claim panacea hugs is Apollo.”

“And no one should hug that creep,” Pax said. From the way she glanced off in the distance, Alabaster wondered if that was data in Jack’s seminar: What To Do When Pursued By a God and You Can’t Turn into a Tree. “But… are you okay? You’ve been acting funny since…” Her eyes widened. She glanced down at her curves, then back up at Alabaster. Her lips quirked into a half-smirk.

Horror clogged Alabaster’s throat. Pax knew. Alabaster wasn’t exactly sure what elusive information Pax knew, but she did, and Alabaster had to leave before she used it against him.

“You—you think I’m hot! You’re—you’re just straight—!”

There was no viable response to either of those comments. Disagreement would make him sound cruel and any compliment would require Alabaster to (both) lock himself in his lab in a vow of humiliated solitude and hide from Axel for that eternity.

Axel scowled critically at Alabaster’s pause.

This. This is what would be different if Pax was Axel’s little sister instead of little brother. Axel would have an excuse to hunt Alabaster down on unwarranted suspicions and make a sign out of his lanky frame that read, Reasons Not to Hit on My Little Sister.

With nothing else to say, Alabaster nodded to Axel. He hoped that he had managed a calm exterior: his thoughts were uselessly incoherent. His voice sounded shrill. “That’s on loan from the local library and is due in 21 days. I expect it returned to me on time and in prime condition. I hope both of you sleep well.”

Before Pax could respond further, Alabaster rigidly turned and strode away. Although the night had taken on a chill, Alabaster wiped a line of sweat from his forehead.

Stupid. Trivial. Distracting.  

He harnessed his focus, tuning out the unnecessary emotions. This was something he was more accustomed to doing with shame, shutting out his grandfather’s and house servants comments about, “Witch,” and “bastard child.” It was harder with this current emotion—whatever it was that made his heart thud.

He grasped at the other thoughts drifting on his consciousness: Sleep. Axel’s nightmares. Recognizing the Pax brothers as his friends. The three of them making an excellent team. Potential for assassinations. Luke’s increasing failures as a leader. How to lead an army without their golden boy mascot.

They couldn’t. Alabaster swallowed. The chilly air cleared his head. They needed Luke for the rest of the war effort. Disposing of him now would create a rift in Camp Othrys, one that they couldn’t afford. Alabaster knew some of his siblings wouldn’t follow him if a divide happens. If something happened to Kronos, the titans would split into opposing parties. Lamia and any children of Hecate that opposed Alabaster would surely fall on that other side. They didn’t have a replacement leader strong enough to lead the war, other than… who? Flynn?

Alabaster’s stomach churned. Axel was popular, but an outsider. None of the Titans, xenophobic by Hellanistic nature, would listen to him, other than, maybe, Prometheus. Flynn, thanks the roll of luck, had no interest in being a leader. That kind of power vacuum would likely lead Krios and Hyperion to sibling rivalry.

They would have to dispose of Luke after the war. They would need a plan to dispose of Luke after the war, assuming Axel and Pax would agree.

An idea slithered along the seams of Alabaster’s awareness, one involving the murky silhouettes of a lion, a snake, and a ram. Maybe Alabaster could rid Axel of his nightmares at the same time as making a weapon to defeat Luke. The Triple A Chimera…

Magic couldn’t save his dying father, but maybe it could save the world from the return of an ancient tyranny. With thoughts of this new death machine, Alabaster walked back towards his room, blissfully unaware that—for the next week—he’d spend an hour every night reading to a curvaceous, flirty female Pax.

 ***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! (Sorry for falling off the face of the earth again >>’‘‘) I rewrote this ending, like, three times XD I hope it worked! Stay tuned in two weeks (hopefully >>’‘ in the theoretical universe) where a certain maniac redhead finds himself on an island with a population of two. Love you guys. Thanks for your support! <3

 ***

footnotes: 

[1] When everyone stopped reading Tales from Mount Othrys, to pick up on a much more nostalgic work XD If it is not obvious enough, I do not have any rights to this book. There are not enough weasels or evil parents for me to have written it.

[2] Maybe, guys. I’ll consider it XD

[3] Pax’s playing the part of Captain Cook and the Isles of the Titties. Don’t ask questions.

[human-trash-fire]

Beautiful Disaster: Chapter 5 (Pynch Soulmate AU)

Alrighty my loves, this chapter has been a labor of love from the beginning. As you continue reading you will see art pieces and each is correlated with a song (those will be at the end), and references yet again will be made to the EMFS playlist (Ronan’s rehab playlist- I’ve actually made it on spotify! you can find it here)

As usual you can find this story on Ao3 @ glam_reaper 2 if you’re interested <3

TW: Mention of suicide attempt, a panic attack though not super descriptive, cannon typical language.

Iv.

You,

I made a friend last week.

I know for most people that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I assume by now You understand what that means for someone like me. I guess “friend” may be a generous term? I don’t know if we are there yet, Blue definitely disagrees with him “on principle.” 

You see, President Cellphone as she calls him, or Richard Campbell Gansey III (I know, what a douchey fucking name) is all boat shoes and privledge and perfect teeth. Gansey isn’t someone I’d normally associate with mind you, Henry kind of met my quota for rich extroverts in the inner circle, and yet…

So, here’s the story. I’m writing my last letter right? And I was so fucking lost. I decided to walk home from Nino’s- I thought maybe it would help me settle. And there, right around the corner is this fucking ‘73 camero. It should have been beautiful, really.. A classic like that? It’s a dream to look at. Only this fucking thing is the UGLIEST color of candy orange you could ever imagine… And it’s blowing smoke all over the damn place. I was honestly going to leave boat-shoes to call his daddy or mechanic or what have you, but he looked so confused. I offered to help him out and was able to get it running long enough to get to Boyd’s.

I expected him to just drop off “The Pig” (the car) like any normal person and come back for it, only I apparently made “quite the impression.”

Gansey ended up staying with me, prattling on about his Masters History program and some welsh king the ENTIRE time I worked on the damn car. At first I was tuning him out, but without realizing it I became completely entranced by the whole story. I’ve never seen such passion for anything, and I have VERY spirited friends.

He has one of those voices you know? The kind that can stop a room, raise an army, lead a nation. The kind that demands to be heard without ever having to raise itself.

That’s Gansey though.

I think he’ll be good for me, I don’t think he’d give me much of a choice in the matter though to be honest. He kind of adopted me this week? That should bother me and yet, being around him is just… It’s being included. It’s a sense of purpose.

I think he needs it too, he doesn’t seem to talk about negative things but you can tell, he’s haunted by something. That’s what solidified it for me really. He may be a senator’s son but he’s seen some shit. 

I wish you could have met him, I wonder if you would have been as intrigued by him as I find myself. 

Blue is being a total idiot about him, but I’m about 82% sure it’s because she is into him. I know for sure the feeling is mutual. It took Gans approximately 15 minutes after meeting Blue to ask me for her life story, offend her beyond measure, and then haul ass out of Nino’s. It was the first time I’d seriously laughed in so long. Have you ever been second-hand embarrassed for someone? It was that. 

I’m going to wrap this up now though, I need to head to Nino’s for my shift, Blue’s working so of course Gans is stopping by. He said he’s bringing one of his best friends with him, some dude named Noah. Apparently he’s pretty cool, so I’m moderately less apprehensive. He said he wished he could bring his other best friend/ his and Noah’s third roommate but the guy is staying with family for a few months or something. Idk? He doesn’t talk about the other roommate much. I honestly don’t even think he’s ever said his name. Who gives a shit though, I can barely handle one new friend, let alone a 3-pack of Ganseys. Good God… I hope Noah isn’t another Gansey…. Fuck.

Welp.

Here goes nothing.

*****

It started with a not-so-subtle idea from the esteemed Dr. Allen. “Show me what happened.” Ronan was never great with words before all this, and since… When he spoke it was usually a litany of curse words. So Dr. Allen had suggested art. In the weeks since his entombment in this fine rehabilitation center, Ronan had kind of already been doing what he was being asked to do now. Though, he didn’t mention it to Allen. He’d spent countless hours sketching his life, the whole thing, in snapshots inside that beautiful leather sketchbook Gansey had given him. 

He started at the beginning, pictures of Aurora and his brothers, the Barns, his father playing guitar by the fire. He drew their family vacations, the cows he used to sneak out and sleep beside when he was a child, the feeling of winning the Tennis State Championship when he was 15. He drew the bad things too, his nightmares, his drug-trips, that old stained couch in the basement of Kavinsky’s house. He put every piece of himself, all 22 years of memories down in that book, woven together with song lyrics in the margins. 

So when Dr. Allen asked him to look specifically to his addiction and create, he didn’t see a problem. He needed to return to school with a series anyways, Declan had called to inform him that strings had been pulled to allow him to finish his final semester at Georgetown, but he needed to walk in with something to show at the January exhibition. Two birds, and all that.

He settled on 7 pieces, each done in oils on canvas, each accompanied by a song. 7 moments in the life of his battle with addiction, from the beginning to now. With each stroke of his brush he felt infinesmally lighter, pouring his grief into the images before him. 

It started with “The Fall.” His father’s murder in reds and greys; fracturing lines and deep shadows. He mixed his paints with tears and used his heart to drag color across the canvas. For the first time in years, Ronan allowed the memory to consume him. He’d re-lived it plenty of times in his nightmares, but this was different. His hands shook, jagged strokes of anger and confusion bleeding through. He painted the brief moment, the final moment, when his world was whole before his teenage mind finally realized what it was he was looking at. His last free breath. And he painted his screams, the cacophony of pain, endlessly mixing with sirens until his vocal chords gave out. 

He drowned the canvas in un-kept promises and hung it out to dry with childhood dreams.

Then came “Chasing the Void.” It was a story told in stark lighting. High beams on a backroad, swirling smoke and broken bottles. It was white glasses and white-powder lines on shark-nosed hood. It was going 115mph, bones rattling with the beat of the bass in his sound system. Ronan painted a black tattoo, used the blood on his knuckles to tint bloodshot eyes. His brush moved with his mother’s disappointment and his brother’s anger. Whimsical lines and Gansey’s head shaking when he found Ronan passed out yet again. He painted the highs and lows when sobriety reminded him that he hated the face that stared back at him in the mirror. 

Each new piece he added to the collection was brought to Dr. Allen’s office. Together they worked through each memory associated with the piece and slowly Ronan felt the weight on his chest lighten. 

Gansey visited every Monday and Friday like clockwork. He kept Ronan apprised to all the goings on of Monmouth and updates on Matthew and Declan. Ronan never asked for them, but he appreciated it regardless. His current obsession though seemed to be a new friend, Adam something. He had been going on for 30 minutes now about how this man single-handedly raised the Pig from the dead. Ronan tuned out most of the conversation, but nodded at what he assumed were appropriate moments while sketching.

“Ronan, are you even paying attention?” Gansey asked, irritation only slightly evident.

“Mmm?” Ronan hummed. “For sure. Pig. Smoke. Some new guy.”

“Essentially. I was saying that Noah and I are heading to his second job, the man works 2 jobs and is getting a masters can you believe it? Anyways Nino’s, so Noah can finally meet him and Blue. Have I mentioned her yet?” 

Blue? He thought. Who the fuck names their kid Blue. “Once or twice.”

“Well they both work this afternoon, so I assume we’ll just hang there until they get off. Then maybe grab a bite. I wish you could come, I’m sure you’d get along nicely with Adam.” Gansey said, choosing to ignore the previous sarcasm and barrell on. Excelsior. 

“Doubt it.” Guy sounds like a douche.

“On that note, thank you for another lovely visit. I’ll see you Monday, Ronan.” Gansey gathered his coat and made his way to the door with a final wave.

Ronan waved back with a single finger and a saccharine “Bye, Dick.” Then shoved his Airpods back into his ears and lost himself in the EMFS playlist.

*****

As Adam gathered the tub of dirty dishes from above the trash and made his way back to wash them, he was lost in thought. These last two weeks, recent events, had been so much and yet he strangely was beginning to feel some semblance of peace. He knew that Blue had wanted him to write letters to help him cope. If he was admitting to it helping, he also needed to be honest with himself in noting that it may have been hurting just as much. He was falling in love with a ghost. A figment of his imagination that he could tell his every secret too, someone who listened without judgment; Someone who never asked more of him than he could handle. It wasn’t healthy, wasn’t what Blue had intended, of that he was sure. But, if it brought him peace and allowed him to sleep without seeing cold, dead eyes, then what was the harm?

He rinsed the mugs and plates loading them efficiently into the dishwasher, and dried his hands. As he moved to toss the towel into the bin, he heard the bell chime above the cafe door. He made his way slowly to the front, knowing that Blue was currently handling the register meant that he didn’t need to rush. On his way down the hallway he stopped to straighten a missing cat flier on the community bulletin board, taking a moment to snap a picture of the cat in question so he could be on the lookout, then continued toward the front; eyes glued to his phone.

He rounded the corner towards the coffee bar to the tune of laughter, it seemed Gansey had arrived. His eyes found Blue first. For all her insistance that she loathed the man in question, she was positively glowing, head tossed back in a hearty laugh. Lost in the bubble of charm Gansey operated in. 

“-And so I asked him, mind you I’ve had a lot to drink at this point, ‘Hey senator, why do you fucking hate poor peo-‘ Oh! Adam” Ganseys story of embarrassing his mother at one of her Republican fundraisers interrupted, as he caught sight of Adam sliding behind the bar.

“Hey Gans,” He smiled. 

“My apologies, this is Noah.” Gansey stepped to the side to reveal the man in question, and Adam’s breath stopped. 

There, eyes blue and wide with shock, mouth agape stood the man from the alley. The one whose scream still haunted Adam in the dark, solitary hours of sleep. The one that began his every nightmare of that night.

He was different now, tears weren’t pouring from his eyes to dance across the plains of his smudgey face. His blonde hair free of blood was slightly tousled, and his clothes were clean, albeit a little disheveled. 

“No,” the word was a broken noise, barely a word at all, closer to a sob. Gansey and Blue looked frantically between the two for what seemed like an eternity before Noah spoke.

“It’s you…” 

“Who? Noah, you know Adam?” Gansey’s voice was quietly confused.

Adam began to shake his head slowly, increasing with speed as his breath finally returned to him; Erratic and wild. Crocodile tears blurred his vision, and he finally croaked a simple question, “What… What was his name?”

“Ronan.”

“Oh, god” Blue breathed. 

Adam ran, desperately fleeing the scene and chorus of his name called from the front. Ronan, his name was Ronan. Adam couldn’t breathe. His pain fresh, an un-mendable wound reopened now that he had a name to grieve. He paused, only long enough to grab his messenger bag from the back, and took the alley door. 

Then he ran, faster than he’d ever remembered running. Tears turning the colors of the world around him to a haunting watercolor. His breath came in painful stabs, each beat of his bleeding heart an excruciating truth.

He somehow made it back to his apartment. The moment the door closed behind him he fell against it and slid to the floor. Ronan Ronan Ronan-

“R-Ronan.” He spoke the name the first time aloud, the feeling of its weight on his tongue was an answer to a question he’d been asking for a month. For a lifetime.

Adam didn’t know how long he sat on the floor, grief taking time and twisting it in on itself. An amalgam of pain, hopelessness, and questions. Gansey, Gansey knew Ronan, knew Noah. Noah the boy he’d last seen carted away in the back of an ambulance covered in red red red. Noah, who’d screamed for help like the world was shattering. Noah, who’d clung tightly to the shredded arms of a bleeding man in a dark alley.

Help me, his mind screamed, his internal voice morphing into Noah’s from that night. 

Help me, I’m not okay…

A key twisting in the lock above his head brought his attention to the present. Adam pushed away from the door, and waited as Blue made her way into his dark apartment. Night had fallen sometime since he’d been here, on the floor, lost in the alley. Lost in a name.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Th-that was-”

“I know. Noah told us after you left. Adam, there’s… Adam. I need to tell you something.”

It was a concentrated effort to drag his gaze from the space between their bodies on the floor to meet her eyes. Lights from the street poured through the window in the living room, painting Blue’s honey warm skin in a haunting glow. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he waited. He watched. She brought a trembling hand to his, her brown eyes lined with silver, she squeezed.

“Adam, he’s alive.” 

A sob born of heartbreak and pain tore from his chest, he couldn’t form words. He broke then, completely and wholly. Blue came to cradle his head against her chest as he cried. Every hope he’d killed since the alley came barreling to the surface; All the pain and confusion, love and questions, beating like waves against the shores of his mind. Some minutes later he finally raised his head and met Blue’s eyes, her smile was wet and broken. He dragged his hand under his nose, across his eyes, and finally found the word to the question he needed to ask. “How?”

So Blue told him. Apparently, him finding Noah and Ronan in that alley, the tourniquet he’d made of his scarf, that extra minute he’d bought him had been enough. The doctors were able to stitch his wounds, and though it had been a close call, he’d pulled through. She explained that he’d had a hard life, though Gansey wouldn’t give details because he insisted those were Ronan’s to share when he was ready. He did however give her basic facts. Ronan Niall Lynch is an artist, a senior at Georgetown. He’s an orphan, and a brother. He’s an addict in recovery at a facility in Arlington, and Gansey’s third roommate. 

Blue explained that, when Adam was ready Gansey and Noah wanted to meet with him, to talk more. She offered to accompany him when that time came, but they all agreed they wouldn’t push him until he was ready. “Thank you,” he’d said to Blue. For getting the information. For telling him. For allowing him space. She understood that his history made this difficult, an addict for a soulmate was something he would need time to process. She eventually asked if he wanted to be alone and when he’d told her “yes” she kissed his forehead, and made her way to the door.

“Adam,” she paused, and he looked up. “We’ll wait on your text okay? Whenever you’re ready. But please check in so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

With a perfunctory nod she slid back out the door. 

Adam spent another minute in silence before dragging himself from the floor. He made his way in a daze to his desk and he collapsed into his chair. Slowly, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper. 

His hand shook.

He took a deep breath.

He wrote.

V

Ronan,

You’re alive…

**********************

Art Pieces and their correlating songs (linked):

“The Fall”  The War- SYML

“Chase The Void”  For What It’s Worth- Malia J

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #437

Top Ten Predictions for the Xbox Games Showcase

So I wasn’t going to do this. I had my “Games Month” in June; that was supposed to be me getting it out of my system whilst the various publishers and platform holders held their Not-E3 video livestreams. That was supposed to take the place of my usual semi-serious lists of E3 predictions; a variety of more generalised run-downs of Stuff To Do With Videogames rather than me saying “A New Perfect Dark” ten times.

But then Microsoft’s “Showcase” event turned out to be the back-end of July, the videos and livestreams kept on pouring in, and I found myself ever devouring more salacious rumours of what games were upcoming, especially for the Xbox Series X. I have even found myself reading – shudder – Reddit.

I know.

Anyway, from being a simple thought experiment of “I wonder what games will be out when the Series X launches?” through to me imagining a blow-by-blow runthrough of the July 23rd event, I guess you could say that I am excited despite my better judgement. I think my problem with videogaming as a hobby is that I retain my fanboy enthusiasm from when I was a ten-year-old eagerly awaiting the next issue of The One Amiga, frantically swapping all eleven disks of Monkey Island 2, but I’m a grown-ass man with a mortgage and two kids and I just don’t have the time. I love reading websites like Eurogamer, and going on forums and checking out Twitter threads and all that, devouring news and titbits about all manner of gaming ephemera, and I often think when do these people have the time?!

Now look, I know hobbies, if you commit to them, can be expensive in terms of money and time. I have friends who collect Transformers toys, and let me tell you, that shit ain’t cheap. But daisy-chaining triple-A RPGs together feels like a lifetime commitment. I’m still playing Mass Effect Andromeda and Titanfall 2. I’ve just started Breath of the Wild and I’m waiting to kick off The Witcher III once I complete something else. I operate about two to three years behind the curve, and with work and kids and other commitments I struggle to find space for the oodles of games I do have, especially because most of the time I just end up on Civilization VI again. And yet…

The lure of the new still excites me. I really want to play all those Sony games on a Sony console that I don’t even own. I’m fascinated by the divergent next-gen philosophies of the big three platform holders. I can’t wait to see what the games I already own will look like embiggened on a 4K TV thanks to a suitable next-gen console. And so I keep consuming this stuff, keep wanting to try the latest thing, keep wanting to be part of the narrative. I’m still excited.

Therefore I’ve decided, against my better judgement, to offer up a prediction list like I usually do at E3 time. This one is just focussed on the upcoming Xbox Showcase on July 23rd. I doubt I’ll do one for the two remaining big showcases in August – I believe both Sony and Microsoft are doing one apiece, where we might finally hear prices of these damn things – because I think by the end of the month all the big game news might finally be out there. Aside from guessing how far off £500 both machines land, I think we’ve probably heard all the major announcements. Maybe I’m wrong! I’m wrong quite a lot! But that’s part of the fun.

So here we go: ten things that probably aren’t going to be announced next Thursday!

Halo Infinite opens the show – and is playable: we know that Halo Infinite will debut some campaign gameplay. As more-or-less a known quantity (even if we don’t know exactly what it’ll look like or how it’ll play), kicking things off with Xbox’s biggest star makes sense and won’t deflate any surprises. What I think might happen, though, is the announcement of some kind of multiplayer demo or closed beta, maybe only for Game Pass subscribers or something. They’ve done it before with Halo, so it’d be nice to get a chance to play one of the year’s biggest games early.  

Hellblade 2 in-engine trailer: Senua’s Saga looks amazing so far, with a phenomenal launch trailer that displayed vast landscapes, intense detail, and some truly awesome facial animation. There’s a lot of speculation that, whilst the trailer was apparently in-engine and running in realtime, it was a fancy cut-scene with “hero assets”. I might have missed a memo somewhere, but I don’t think Hellblade 2 has been confirmed as a “launch window” title; as such, I think it will end up a Series X exclusive (as in, not appearing on Xbox One) and be out Christmas 2021. As such we won’t see a considerable gameplay chunk as with Halo, but we will see some proper in-engine footage – not a cutscene – running on Series X hardware.

Fable IV is out next year: is it an open secret at this point that Playground Games is making a Fable game? I guess maybe they’re not. Maybe there’s not even a new Fable at all. But I think there is, and I think Playground are making it, and I think we’ll see it next week. I guess it probably won’t be coming too soon; maybe Christmas 2021? So I think there’ll be a launch trailer of some kind – hopefully a Hellblade-style in-engine one rather than a rendered movie – but it’ll be a pretty big to-do to close out the show (unless there’s some other surprise “…and one more thing”).

Minecraft ray-tracing: we’ve seen it before, and I’m not sure how much time it’ll take up in the run of things, but I think Microsoft will confirm that there will be a ray-tracing graphics update for Minecraft on Series X. It’ll be part of some other line-wide update, of course – maybe the fabled “Super Duper Graphics” update that was cancelled once before – but Series X owners (or PC owners with the right hardware) will get lots of lovely rays to trace.

Gears Tactics on Xbox this Christmas: the Coalition said their piece about Gears 5 on Series X this week, so I don’t expect them to have a huge presence on Thursday (Gears 6 presumably being too far off), but I think we’ll get a trailer for the excellent Gears Tactics running on Xbox, and confirmation of a Christmas release for one of my favourite PC games of 2020.

Cyberpunk 2077 on Series X: all the footage we’ve seen of Cyberpunk thus far has been – I do believe – running on high-end PCs. CD Projekt Red should have a presence on Thursday, and I think they’ll debut footage – actual proper gameplay – of Cyberpunk running on a Series X. I think we’ll also see further evidence of a cosy relationship with Microsoft, as they announce something – maybe exclusive DLC – as well as just maybe some Cyberpunk-themed Series X hardware. I also think they’ll announce a Series X update for The Witcher III: Wild Hunt.

Big Double Fine blowout: Microsoft’s purchase of Double Fine really excited me, because I’ve been a big Tim Schafer fan for decades. Aside from Psychonauts 2, we don’t know a great deal about what they’re up to. So I think we’ll see a lot of Psychonauts, as well as confirmation of a Christmas release. We’ll also get confirmation of classic LucasArts remasters – Day of the Tentacle, Full Throttle, and Grim Fandango – as well as something else. I’m not sure what. A remaster of the first Psychonauts? Brütal Legend 2? Scurvy Scallywags Series X? what I don’t think it’ll be, however, is any kind of Banjo Kazooie game, because I don’t really think Microsoft bought them to work on existing IP. I think we’ll see something new.

Third-party shenanigans: aside from Cyberpunk, I think we’ll get at least one other extended third-party trailer. Maybe Destiny 2, given the first game’s apparent preference for PlayStation? Maybe one of those military shooters everybody likes but me? Splinter Cell, which is becoming the perennial white elephant during Ubisoft presentations (and obviously has prior as an OG Xbox exclusive)? Or maybe we’ll see something like the announcement of Red Dead Redemption 2 as a Smart Delivery title. That would be pretty cool.

Japanese presence: I’m not sure what exactly, but I think Microsoft will make moves to entice the Japanese market. Perhaps it’ll be like the early days of the Xbox 360, when they published the likes of Blue Dragon. Maybe we’ll see a Western release of some venerated Japanese franchise. Or maybe some other sequel or reboot. Maybe it’ll even be the rumoured announcement of some kind of exclusive partnership with Sega? Who knows? Regardless I think we’ll see evidence of Microsoft making more of an effort in Japan; I think this will be part of a strategy to encourage Japanese gamers to subscribe to Game Pass/xCloud rather than buy more consoles.

One last thing: there’ll be a surprise. Everyone’s predicting everything, but I still think there’ll be a surprise. After the dust settles, good old Phil Spencer (t-shirt prediction: Viva Pinata) will leave us with a little something… a tease, a subtle tease, maybe even just a logo or character reveal. It could be a returning franchise, it could be The Initiative’s debut game, but I’d wager it’s something unexpected, something we’ve never heard anything about. It’s something that’s a long way off, but it’ll have a style or a hook or a brand that instantly makes everyone excited, and will bring the curtain down. Microsoft has largely done a good job establishing itself as a solid platform the last three or four years, but it’s sorely been lacking in mic-drop moments as hardware news is teased and studio acquisitions have taken time to bed in. So whether it’s Joanna Dark, a Mech, Banjo, or something I can’t fathom, we’ll leave on a high.

There we go: ten relatively reasonable, moderately level-headed predictions. I don’t think there’s anything too crazy there. I’ve not gone all-in on a huge Perfect Dark blowout, or Viva Pinata returning, or Microsoft buying Sega or Warner Bros or whatever else could be dreamed up. I’m sure there’s other stuff too; probably some gameplay from previously-announced titles like The Medium or (hopefully) Scorn, that really show off Series X capabilities; no doubt a montage or two, probably of some ID@Xbox games; Forza Motorsport 8, I guess, and I’d wager some info on Flight Simulator on Xbox. I do hope they make the whole presentation look nice though; Sony’s one, where they finally revealed the PS5 hardware, was excellent, with just enough talking-head developer stuff and those lovely idents that served to whet the appetite and tease the eventual look of the machine. We know there’ll be no new hardware or discussion about evolving services, so really all we’ve got to look forward to are games, games, games, which makes a nice change from the reveal of the Xbox One all those moons ago.

Okay, so my absolute crazy just-for-me wish? Well, things are getting thin on the ground now, as the big things I always want from Microsoft – Fable, Crackdown, Perfect Dark – have either happened or are strongly rumoured. Viva Pinata is next on that list, but beyond that? How does Black and White Infinite sound? That’s right, baby, next on my list – Lionhead rebooted!

[ltworld]

Revelation, Coronavirus, and the Mark of the Beast: How Should Christians Read the Bible’s Most Fascinating Book? Part 1

Kevin DeYoung

Whenever there is a cataclysmic global crisis—be it war, rumors of war, or a novel coronavirus—we see a sharp uptick of interest in the book of Revelation. While paying attention to the Bible is always a good thing, Revelation is too often used (by Christians and non-Christians) in a way that does less to edify the body of Christ and more to stoke the fires of wild speculation and unfounded conspiracy theories.

It may be helpful, then, to understand what kind of book Revelation is and how to make sense of imagery like the mark of the beast. We’ll get to the mark of the beast in the third and final installment of this short series. But before we get there I want to take a couple posts to look at what Revelation is all about and how we should interpret this not-as-strange-as-it-seems book.

Big Picture

Probably no book of the Bible has been harder for Christians to understand and, as a result, produced more bizarre theology than the book of Revelation. Although it is called “revelation,” it has been anything but a revelation for many Christians. It is a closed book for many of us, not correcting, not teaching, not rebuking, not training in righteousness like all Scripture should.

I remember teaching through part of Revelation for a Sunday school class several years ago and telling my mom about it over the phone. She said something like, “Kevin, you’re not going act like you have everything figured out are you? John Calvin didn’t even write a commentary on Revelation. You don’t know more than John Calvin, do you?” It is true that Calvin did not write a commentary on Revelation (one of the few books he didn’t write on), and it’s true that I don’t have everything figured out. But most of Revelation can be understood and applied if we will take the time to study it.

In fact, the entire book of Revelation can be summed up in one word: nike. Nike is the Greek word for victory. It occurs one time in the New Testament—1 John 5:4 states, “This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.” Another form of the word (nikos) appears four other times, three times in 1 Corinthians 15 (e.g., “Death has been swallowed up in victory;” “He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ”). The verb form, nikao (meaning to conquer, to overcome, to triumph), occurs more frequently—28 times. Seventeen of those occurrences, more than in the rest of the New Testament combined, are in Revelation.

Revelation is the story of the Devil trying to conquer the church, but the church overcomes the Devil and the world because she belongs to the Lord who has won for us the victory (Rev. 5:5; 17:14). The book of Revelation gives instruction for the believer on how to conquer instead of being conquered, how to triumph instead of being trampled, and how to be an overcomer instead of a succumber. That’s why each of the seven letters to the seven churches concludes with “to the one who conquers . . .” If we cave and give in to persecution and give into worldliness and give into the Devil’s temptations, we will lose. But if we overcome through trial and suffering and seeming irrelevance, we will win (Rev. 21:6-7). That’s where history is heading, and that’s the big idea of Revelation.

(Possible) Map for the (Seeming) Madness

There is no one inspired way to understand the structure of Revelation. When studying this book in-depth several years ago, I found 11 different outlines, which suggests there probably isn’t one obvious structure we’re supposed to see.

One simple approach is to see Revelation as divided into two main sections. Chapters 1-11 introduce the story of God’s triumph, and chapters 12-22 explain the story in greater detail, this time unveiling in more depth the role of evil through the beast, the false prophet, and the whore of Babylon.

Another way of approaching the book is to divide it into four main sections, each marked off by the phrase “what must soon take place” or “what must take place after this.”

Rev. 1:1 The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants the things that must soon take place.

Rev. 1:19 Write therefore the things that you have seen, those that are and those that are to take place after this.

Rev. 4:1 “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.”

Rev. 22:6 “And the Lord, the God of the spirits of the prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must soon take place.”

The language in these four passages comes from Daniel 2 and indicates that Old Testament prophecy is already and not yet completed in Revelation.

There’s another way to outline the book into four main sections. This approach marks out the times John says he was caught up in the Spirit.

Rev. 1:10 I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet.

Rev. 4:2 At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne.

Rev. 17:3 And he carried me away in the Spirit into a wilderness.

Rev. 21:10 And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.

By this reckoning, Revelation consists of four main visions that John saw while he was in the Spirit on four different occasions.

Yet one more way of approaching the book—and the approaches are not mutually exclusive—is to look for sets of sevens. Everyone recognizes that seven is a crucial number in Revelation, and that there are at least four sets of sevens: seven letters, seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven bowls. This much everyone agrees on. But from here things get less clear. Since there are plainly at least four sets of sevens, many scholars have wondered if we are meant to see seven sets of sevens. I am convinced there are seven sets of sevens, but I certainly wouldn’t be dogmatic about it. My outline, which is similar to outlines I’ve seen from others, looks like this:

Prologue: 1:1-8 I. Seven letters: 1:9-3:22 II. Seven seals: 4:1-8:5 III. Seven trumpets: 8:6-11:19 IV. Seven visions: 12:1-15:4 V. Seven bowls: 15:5-16:21 VI. Seven judgments: 17:1-19:10 VII. Seven last things: 19:11-21:8 VIII. The beautiful bride: 21:9-22:21

You’ll notice there is an eighth section that is not a set of seven. An eighth section makes sense because eight is often the number of new creation in the Bible (Jesus rose on the eighth day/first day of a new week, eight people started the new humanity after the flood, sons were to be circumcised on the eighth day), and this eighth section is about the new heavens and new earth. But there is nothing inspired about the outline above. It’s just one way of making the book more manageable and putting together some possible patterns with some obvious ones.

Our Interpretive Lens

The last thing I want to do in this post is look at the various ways Christians have understood Revelation. There are four main schools of thought.

The first school of interpretation is called preterism. The preterist approach teaches that a large portion of the book of Revelation was fulfilled in the first century, specifically in the destruction of the temple in AD 70. Further, most of the prophecies in Revelation were fulfilled by the fall of the Roman Empire in the fifth century.

The strength of the preterist school is that it puts Revelation in its original context. Revelation was written to first-century Christians with first-century metaphors and imagery and referents. If we jump to the 21st century and ask, “What does this mean for me?,” we will almost surely get the wrong answer. We have to first ask, “What did this mean to them, to John’s original audience?”

Preterism is not without weaknesses. First, some preterists try to find a single, specific fulfillment to the prophecies of Revelation when it seems more likely that John’s visions often portray generalized spiritual battles and struggles that occur throughout the ages. Second, full-blown preterists argue that all of the end-time events, like the second coming and the last judgment, actually were fulfilled by AD 70. This does not seem in keeping with the cataclysmic language used at the end of each sequence.

The second school of interpretation is called historicism. The historicist reads Revelation as a straightforward, sequential roadmap of history. Revelation is seen as predicting any number of key historical figures and events from Napoleon to Hitler to the European Union to the United Nations.

The strength of historicism is that it makes Revelation relevant for all Christians. It focuses our attention not on the fall of the temple or on the Roman Empire but on the way of the church in the world.

But besides this strong point, historicism is the worst way to try to understand Revelation. It is full of weaknesses. Let me quickly mention just four.

First, historicism is often anachronistic and takes Revelation out of its original context. I am thinking of those who argued that the country out of the north (from Daniel, not Revelation) must be Russia, or that the locust swarm from Revelation 9 is foretelling a helicopter battalion. These sorts of interpretations completely ignore the imagery of ancient prophecy and the context of the first century.

Second, historicism, with its end-of-the-world predictions and identifications of the beast, has often been demonstrably wrong. During the cold war, people saw Russia in Revelation. A decade ago they saw Iraq. Now they see the coronavirus. In a few years, they will be on to something else. Historicists tend to see Revelation being fulfilled in whatever crisis is pertinent for the day. And then on another day, another group of historicists see that view was wrong and find something completely different.

Third, historicism limits the prophecies of Revelation to one exclusive location or personality instead of allowing that the imagery of Revelation may be well suited to an inclusive number of different figures and times. That is, I think historicists are right to see Revelation unfolding in history, but they are wrong to think that Revelation is uniquely unfolding in one historical moment.

Fourth, historicism is irreducibly subjective. There is simply no objective standard of interpretation. Who’s to say that Hitler was more the beast than Stalin? Or that 666 is a reference to Bill Clinton (as one website I found argues)? Or, as another article maintains, that Ronald Wilson Reagan (six letters in each of his names!) was the beast? It’s all hopelessly subjective. The text ends up saying anything we want it to.

The third school of interpretation is futurism. The futurist reads Revelation (chs. 4-22) as a prophecy solely concerned with the distant future. The events depicted refer to the time involving, or immediately preceding, the end of history. Dispensationalists are futurists (though not all futurists are dispensationalists).

The strength of futurism is that it emphasizes how Revelation speaks to the future, not just about the past. Futurism is right to see that some things in Revelation deal with the final consummation of human history. Futurists are also right to see that the future is moving somewhere, toward the triumph of the Lamb.

But futurism also has weaknesses.

First, if Revelation 4-22 is entirely and only about the distant future, then most of Revelation was barely relevant to its original readers. Sure, it would have helped them see the end of the world, but it really spoke little into their immediate context (when John says Revelation revealed “what must soon take place”).

Second, futurism often assumes a strict sequential chronology. And yet, we cannot assume that what is shown to us in chapter 12 comes in time after what we see in chapter 6. To the contrary, one of the keys to interpreting Revelation is to understand that its visions are recapitulated. So, Revelation gives us a sweep through history in the seven seals, and then does the sweep again in the seven bowls. Revelation comprises overlapping prophecies that go back and forth between the present and the future and are not strictly chronological.

Don’t think of the visions of Revelation as frames from a movie reel running through the light one after the other. Think of the visions as portraits in a gallery. You look at one portrait and get a glimpse of reality, and then you look at the next portrait, and then you walk over to the next room and look at the portraits over there. They are pictures telling the same story and pointing to the same reality, but they aren’t sequential clips from a movie.

The fourth school of interpretation is idealism. The idealist reads Revelation as a symbolic conflict between the forces of good and evil. Revelation, idealists argue, does not point to particular historical figures but depicts the timeless struggle between God and Satan. It interprets Revelation as a series of repeated symbolic pictures, focusing on the church’s triumphant struggle from the first century until the last judgment and the eternal state.

The strength of idealism is that is understands the symbolic nature of Revelation. It realizes that Revelation’s imagery is rooted first in Old Testament language and second in the known world of the first century. The other strength is that it sees behind the first-century context deeper spiritual realities that would outlive and transcend ancient Rome and remain relevant for believers throughout the ages.

The weakness of idealism is that it can at times under-emphasize the fact that all of history is moving somewhere. That is, idealism sometimes sounds vague, as if there were no end point in history as we know it, as if Revelation was just about the struggle between good and evil and not also about the ultimate triumph of Jesus Christ.

Interpret the Book

So what approach do I think helps us best understand Revelation? I think each approach offers something needed. This doesn’t mean that I think every approach is good or that one is not better than another (I’m basically an idealist with a partial preterist bent). But each school of interpretation does offer something important.

With the preterist, we must read Revelation in its immediate context.

With the idealist, we must look at Revelation as a symbolic portrayal of God’s work, most of which can be applied to any historical time.

With the futurist, we must read Revelation with end of history in mind, recognizing that the book depicts, in parts, the second coming, the final judgment, and the eternal state.

And with the historicist, we must understand that the prophecies of Revelation, though they are not limited to one particular occurrence, are fulfilled in time and space.

The best way to defend one’s interpretive grid is to actually interpret the book. But since this is a three-part blog series and not a 50-part sermon series, we will have to settle for just one more post on the subject. In the first three verses, John makes clear that this book is an apocalypse, a prophecy, and a letter. Once we know what each of the terms entail, we will be better equipped to understand the book as a whole and specific imagery like the mark of the beast.

Note: This post was first published through The Gospel Coalition website.

[the-apocryphal-one]

Illuminae, Writing Styles, and Some Final Thoughts

 Disclaimer: This is not meant as an insult either author! They both put out an amazing series and I love it. I just wanted to make an observation that may or may not be wrong and offer my thoughts on how I’d have preferred some things be handled.

I shouldn’t have to say unmarked spoilers before the cut, but you never know.

---------

So last week I discovered this series and loved it to bits. Naturally, I went to check out what else the authors have written, together and independently, because I can’t get enough of having my heart dragged across a cheese grater. While I was looking through Jay Kristoff’s website, one thing caught my eye:

“He does not believe in happy endings.”

And suddenly, things clicked. I sometimes felt there was a sense of disconnect in Illuminae, and this is why. It’s their two styles clashing. Now, I haven’t read anything else from them yet, but on his website, Kristoff admits LifeL1k3 and the Aurora Style are dark--and Nevernight and Empire of the Vampire are darker. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that he likes writing heavy material, or that the darker parts of Illuminae are from him.

Looking at Amie Kaufman’s books, they’re lighter in comparison. Epic adventures and romances, which are in no way inferior to dark stories. Notably, The Starbound Trilogy has a basic structure that’s a spitting image of Illuminae’s. A trilogy, with each book following a different set of protagonists, but still tying together into an overarching plot. The protagonists from the previous books will appear, and the new ones will hook up with each other. And I was like ‘oh, so that part of Illuminae was her’.

This ‘interwoven’ style worked wonderfully in the first two books, but by the third...by the third, I didn’t care about the new protagonists. I felt I could predict how it would go: they would hate each other, they would be thrown together by circumstance, they would almost die, they would actually be alive, they would live happily ever after. Why get invested? Especially when I have much less time to connect with them than the previous four (six counting AIDAN and Ella)? And beat for beat, I was right.

Speaking of, AIDAN had to be all Kristoff. He said AIDAN was his favorite character to write and he’s very different in tone from the rest of the cast, so I’d bet he handled him. It also explains why his ‘enemies to friends to ???’ with Kady stands out compared to the other relationships; it builds over three books instead of being wrapped up in one.

Ignoring how I feel about the relationships themselves, I think it would have been better if Asha and Rhys got the third book all to themselves and the climax was a fourth. I’d have missed the cast I was familiar with and been excited by any small mentions/cameos, like in Gemina, but I wouldn’t have felt impatient whenever the newcomers were on screen. Kady, Ezra, AIDAN, Hanna, Nik, and Ella just had so much going on and I cared about them way more than the newbies. I think trying to have the climax and introduce new players at the same time was to Asha and Rhys’s detriment.

So onto my other big criticism with Obsidio: it’s ending.

To be blunt: I think it was out of place. Not the part about BeiTech getting their just desserts, the part where all the protagonists come out alive and all their relationships work out.

(This excludes AIDAN again; he gets stuck drifting in the network watching the love of his life be happy without him. But, deciding that he should just stay away feels like a culmination of his character arc: emotionally destroying, but fitting.)

Obsidio opens with Hanna saying “not all of us made it off Kerenza IV”. When the author makes the decision to have that be in the opening, they create expectations in the reader. So when everyone makes it off Kerenza IV...the reader feels cheated. I love happy endings, but they need to feel earned, not granted as a cop-out. There are too many fake-outs for the leads in the series, and after a while, they stopped working, because I stopped expecting them to stick. And I think Obsidio’s ending was Kaufman’s input, too--because Kristoff “does not believe in happy endings”.

I feel like if Kristoff had been the sole author of Illuminae, Ezra would have stayed dead after the first book, Rhys would have betrayed Asha for real and died, Kady and AIDAN would still end up as they were in canon, and Nik and Hanna would survive but their romance wouldn’t.

...Of course, if Kristoff was the sole author of Illuminae, we might not have gotten the other five characters (or at least, not the way we did, with them as main characters). And losing Nik, Hanna, and Ella would be a tragedy.

That said, the first two are still things I think should have happened. 

Like, my thinking Ezra should have stayed dead has nothing to do with him as a character or shipping preferences. I like Ezra. He’s a big sweetie. A good guy. I thought he and Kady had genuine chemistry, probably the most out of all the love stories—Asha and Rhys haven’t seen each other in years, and Nik and Hanna have known each other for a couple of days (though granted, that is mentioned).

I digress. Ezra really charmed me. And to learn that AIDAN had been impersonating him for half the book and he was actually dead? Was heart-breaking. I was speechless. Blown away. Killing off the YA love interest is one thing, but killing him off and having the antagonist pretend to be him is another entirely. I’d never seen it before. So for him to suddenly be alive at the end of Illuminae, in a way that wasn’t really foreshadowed…it lessened the impact. He didn’t have much to do in Gemina and struggled to compete with the other seven main characters for screentime in Obsidio, which didn’t help things. So yeah, I would rather he stay dead (sorry Ezra).

Rhys and Asha, I’ve already covered as “I don’t care because I know how your story will go and reading it takes me away from the characters I do care about”. Asha’s sisterly/motherly relationship with Katya was far better in my opinion. Her relationship with Rhys ending in blood and betrayal would have been the one thing to make it interesting to me. Barring that, again, they would have benefited from more time they didn’t have to share with the established characters.

Nik and Hanna are in this realm of ‘cute enough’. It makes me happy they worked out, but I wouldn’t be sad if they broke up. It would have been a price I’d paid to get a more tonally-appropriate ending. What I really would have been upset about was if the trio of them and Ella as platonic, ass-kicking buddies was destroyed.

I said I’m pretty happy with where AIDAN and Kady ended up, as a pair and as individuals, and that’s true. That said, I still want to see Kady hunt down his digital ass and drag it back as the culmination of her half of the relationship. There was a distinct lack of closure on that part.

(I guess there’s a chance Kady and AIDAN would have died at the end of Illuminae as well, with just Kristoff in charge, but the last two books would have needed serious rewrites. Actually, the entire premise would need to be rewritten since Kady’s the one gathering those data files. So they probably would have survived, nvm.)

tl;dr--the best relationships were platonic and the best romance was the one that never took off, because the endings for the actual romances were jarring with the series overall, and that’s a byproduct of having two authors with different styles.

[bedlamgames]

Q&A #103

Today we have the Twine conversion, lesbian training mantras, social lube, a bunch of random stuff from the discord, and a whole lot more. 

[Anonymous said]: I'm really curious what the tally means for your twine conversion posts. Can't seem to figure out what its suppose to represent progress wise...

- Answered this last Q&A. Because of you asking I’ve now also added the explanation to what it’s about to every stream post so I hope that helped with understanding what’s going on with that.

[Anonymous said]: Suggestion: For races that start with a random corruption (ie: Succubi), have an option in full custom to spend points to either narrow what that corruption is (to be one of the four types, for example) or to outright pick one (for a much higher cost).

- That’s a good idea. Being able to pick specifically I think would be too much. There are ALOT of corruptions so that would mean many many menus to be able to select everything. Being able to pick one of the four types seems fair to me as something to spend points on in Full Custom. Added it to my notes. 

[Anonymous said]: Have a succubus slaver who used to be a lamia. On level up, she had the option to get the Fleet trait, which I thought was off-limits for Lamia due to their body shape. I think it's a bug?

- Good spot and should be fixed as of the last update. 

[Anonymous said]: Noticed a bug with No Haven 0.903: If you select a human (or once-human) for your character, and then quick restart, your next character will keep the human's Racial aspect Social Lube. On the topic of that Racial, it says " includes one human, and three other different races/subtypes gain an additional Success" Does that mean one human and three non-humans, or one human and three slavers each of a different race from each other?

-Took me awhile to work this out as going from human to human seemed fine. However you’re right that those with a heritage like demi-angels or succubi will incorrectly keep the previous racial. 

The second so as long as you have at least one human you can get the buff by say having a northerner, noble, wastelander, and convent. 

[Anonymous said]: hi bud, xfto/x421 here, its been a long time i guess. wanted to ask about the status of the no haven/twine conversation. i joined your picardo lately but couldnt post some reports since you dont allow guest-posts. well anyway, the report is about something ridiculous i have found after some restarts, the chosen main charakter (lamia) starts as male with the hard carry aspect(immense shaft) and different description than the ones the perks would give. 1/2

another question, feels like i asked something similiar in the past, how about the integration of different artpacks/access to older pics, or deletion of those that never get used? i guess that would requiere some more access to the game than you allow atm. maybe with twine? do you have a roadmap on tfgames or somewhere for the future of no haven? i know there are some more races you want to implement and improve some systems, but thats it, hope you are doing well in these times. 2/2

I do an update on the patreon every two weeks which is linked on the twitter. You do not need to be a patron to read these and is the best way to stay informed about what I’ve been up to. That includes the status of the conversion. To quickly sum it up;

It's at a stage where all the RAGS to Twine code conversion is basically done. What I need to do now is translate all that work into something playable and there's currently big logic issues with a bunch of the conditions and passages. So what I'm currently doing is trying to tidy up the visual look of the code with a bunch of idents with the theory that will make finding the errors easier.

Alas it’s not me disallowing guest posts... Picarto had some massive stonking issues and so they locked things down hard due to that preventing guests from chatting. I suggest a throwaway email site to get around that.

I don’t think there’s any art in the game file that’s not used as I try to keep on top of deleting the old ones. Not really down for doing art packs of the old ones as due to that not being my art so I see them as placeholder only until they can be replaced by commissions. 

I probably do need to do some kind of roadmap sometime. I’m less keen as it’s kind of a dirty word these days as due to the miss-use of them by others it’s got some bad connontations, but I’m also aware the alternative which is me randomly mentioning stuff on discord/picarto streams leaves the vast majority of my audience in the dark which is also really not ideal.

[Anonymous said]: [no haven 0.903] [Crit no longer grants Bimboborn] okay, but how do I get bimboborn now?

- It’s a corruption. Specifically Blessings of Perversion. 

[Anonymous said]: With the change to training where hypnotic slavers can fully embed the relevant mantras for blowjob, bimbo, and sissy training, could we also get that for lesbian training?

- Yes that’s the plan when I do the third part of lesbian training. Got a set of commissions planned just got to sort the funding and work out who I’m getting to do it. 

[Anonymous said]: hey bud, x421 here, again, might be already fixed because thats from no haven .903, but i recently had the witch queen super rare quest, you might want to proof read the quest and results, there are a few typos. i really did enjoy the writing nonetheless, just a quick question about that quest, as far as i understood this one, you only change your odds of the final result depending on how good you do on your way to the final, but the reward in the end only depends on the final result? 1/2

2/2 it just dawned on me that its been a while since you made an Q&A post so i guess i ll go and lurk on the tfgames forum in the next days, just one last question: i asked early in development about camp upgrades and you were not that convinced about that stuff, i understand you want the slaver camp as some bandit camp and not some castle/bastion or whatever, but since you added camp upgrades, maybe add proximity to a certain region? or something to spend supplies and gold in a 13month+ run?

- Hah! Okay will give it another read through.That’s correct yes. There’s also rewards on the way if you Critical those parts. 

There is a new gold sink coming soon in an upcoming update. I’ve also got plans for more camp upgrades coming later. 

[From the Patreon]: I'm that guy you replied to about the patch notes in Q&A 101. Solid updates. Bugs in the outfit system has driven me nuts since like, 2015, has it been that long already? I think it has. I like collecting them and something always blows up. This time, I ended up with a slaver wearing both the ooze outfit and ponygirl outfit. So there's that. Also I was disappointed the new Quicker then You'd Like wasn't interactive. Solid in any case though, thanks!

- I'll get them all one day I swear! Don't suppose you remember the chain of events that led to that? New QAYL was a patron requested one with the idea of having a big pay off for playing submissive which often involves playing sub-optimally.

[From the Patreon]: 1-ive been noticing when you choose to repick choices for an slave training assignment the slave gets added to the list of choices 2-also just how rare is the post-slave princess city assignment, cause i can never seem to get it even after selling multiple slave princesses 3-another thing is that the nightly puppet-leader stat is almost impossible to get again(either that or i have bedwarmers incapable of usurping me even thought i my current stats mean i couldnt win against even the subbiest slave)

- Will check 3 as you've not been the only person to mention that. 2 I know exists for sure as other people have definitely got it. Should be no rarer than any other rare City assignment, and thanks for the spot on 1.

[From the Discord]: Top 3 Animes of the 2010 to 2020

Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica the series was staggeringly good. Just redefined what anime could be to me. Film is a... well it was a thing. A beautiful thing with an ending which I still quite know how to feel about. 

Shirobako. It’s about creativity, craft, and about how people can come together to make something. It might not be something good, but dangit it’s been made and that’s worthwhile. It’s also from personal experience by miles the most accurate depiction of working in an office I’ve ever seen.

Oh man this is very very hard deciding on the third so pick one of the following and I could probably make a strong case for it. 

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon, Darling in the FranXX (yes really, yes even the ending), Lupin III: Part 5, Kill la Kill, Monster Musume, Flip Flappers, Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Zombieland Saga, or Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai.

Also while I was taking the question to mean series both Your Name and Promare are absolutely phenonemal films. 

[From the Discord]: Best recent Eurovision Act

Lena. Always Lena. 

[From the Discord]: What's the agricultural technological level of No Haven like 

It’s not hit industrialization yet. What makes the difference is and allows cities like Aversol and even bigger to exist is that the organization of the human empire is far better than it has any right to be for the other levels of development being able to keep an incredibly complex supply chain constantly flowing even if on the ground level it barely seems to be moving at all. There are also some much, much larger farms both on the Great Plains and further to the north compared to the much more isolated single/couple of households ones that your slavers raid. 

[From the Discord]: What have been some of your all-time favourite assignments, both in terms of working on them and how they turned out?

Love When Week’s End Comes for a recent one. Writing all the results in colour commentary (and all the variations for weather, events and outcomes) was a real challenge and I do like how it came out. 

Witch-Queen and Arisin’ for being the first times I tried to go for a different, more potentially disturbing/freaky mood, and I’m pleased with the results. 

Sable Masquerade as I really like the ‘bad end’ I came up with. Actually I like the whole thing as while the pitch from the patron obviously helped, a lot of it was inspired by a random superhero bondage party picture I saw on HF, which I decided to run with, and had a bunch of fun exploring. 

[From the Discord]: Weirdest bug and most difficult bug

The one that resulted in a male wisp riding a griffon was a fun one. 

Most difficult has to be the clothing management which as a previous question suggests I’ve still not entirely solved. 

[From the Discord]: If No Haven was an MMO, what race/class would you play?

Kreen rogue mainly as I really like the edit I did for the portrait which MidnightonMars later translated into a commission. 

If not definitely a lamia. 

[From the Discord]: Knowing what you do now about the design of the game, are there any game mechanics you wish you'd have implemented differently?

Clothing management. So very much clothing management. I’ve redone it entirely twice now, and it’s still not where I want it to be. 

[From the Discord]: What was your inspiration for creating the setting of No Haven?  Has the direction the game has gone varied from your initial idea? If so what has been the biggest change?

- It started off with adapting the chan game Deeper Dungeons which was basically a certain popular mmo with nothing different about it outside of it being porn along with some possibly unwise options of personal abuse. I first changed it by ditching gnomes for neko which to my mind was a clear upgrade. There even used to be an examine refference in the RAGS version to suggest they’d been in the region of the dungeons before being driven out.

Then it was a gradual process of adding with the occasional subtractions to get it closer to a more Warhammer feeling setting which has always been a major love of mine when I was still doing Whorelock’s in RAGS.

With No Haven it was a case of building on what I’ve done there and expanding upon that with the race lore and assignment descriptions. Biggest was probably when I did the favoured/unfavoured stuff and added a ton of extra backstory to various races to justify the choices made there. 

[self-critical-automaton]

Whats Been Going On With Me Lately

So basicly the TLDR is:

I’ve been super ill in weird and new brain ways since about mid-december, when withdrawal from my antidepressants resulted in strange intense psychological events, and I’ve been dealing with the fallout and day-to-day distress ever since. I’m terrified that i might have suffered permanent alterations/damage to my mental state, but who can say.

Details under the cut for anyone who wants to know how ive been doing, or wants to hear about what happens when you quit a high dose of fluoxetine cold turkey after five or six years.

Or for anyone who is going through something similar and wants some info/hope, since withdrawal experiences seem to be super idiosyncratic and variable and its almost impossible to find detailed descriptions.

I’d really appreciate it being read, esp. by people in my life, but dont feel compelled or whatever idk i dont make the rules but srsly please read it if you can it took a lot of time and effort

PS: this and several other articles on that blog were a huge help to me getting through the first couple phases, if you’re having trouble with withdrawal please go read PPS: fine to reblog, in fact please do

In 2017 I started getting painful physical side effects from my antidepressants, which gradually got worse until in lateish-2018 I decided to stop taking them outright. Everyone ever says you shouldn’t quit antidepressants cold-turkey, and they are right, but I’d been taking them inconsistently due to the pain, and I was beginning to suspect they’d stopped helping me anyway, so it seemed the best option.

I quit in probably mid-October and for a couple months felt much the same as usual, but then around the 13th of December it all kicked off. At first I had no idea what was happening, and I thought I was suffering a sudden and intense flu coinciding with a bad depressive spike, but after a couple days I figured out that withdrawal can be offset by weeks or months in rare cases, and decided this is what must be happening. That first round of Withdrawal Time had a few soft-edged but distinct phases (lasting about a week each), and I went through by far the worst experience in my entire life, closely followed by the second-worst and then third-worst.

Round One Start! Phase One: intense existential dread

It kicked of very suddenly, around the 13th december, getting rapidly worse over a couple days. I was paralysed with fear as my mind sunk into thinking in infinite circles, unable to do anything other but endlessly contemplate and debate morbid philosophical topics, forced to confront the inevitability of death, emptiness of life, terror of oblivion, impossibility of afterlife, and so on. I also suffered sensory experiences similar to those ive heard described by people who take drugs like LSD, or very severe fever dreams. Sensations of expanded perception, becoming trapped in imaginary scenarios on other planes, that sort of thing.

In this phase I ate almost nothing, and over that week lost 4 or 5 kg. I also had some flu symptoms, mostly as fevers and chills, and could ony, really sleep in short bursts of a couple hours each. There was very little I could safely occupy myself with, as almost all media (books, games, film, fiction and nonfiction, everything really) would in some way trigger me into thinking about an existential topic, and then the terror would resume. I spent what time I could working to fix the problems with my life that I had suddenly become aware of (my social isolation, my medial issues, my mental health, etc), so I made a lot of phone calls, doctor visits, and applied to some mental health counseling services. I also started looking for avenues to make friends and acquaintances online and in person, and did a lot of research on antidepressant withdrawal.

Towards the end of this phase, the dread got more manageable and began to ease off, and I found I could play simple puzzle games to help occupy myself during the day. Listening to certain podcasts also was a source of relief and distraction. However, things remained bad in the morning and evenings, and I ended up referring to these times as ‘morning hell’ and ‘evening hell’. Also, I began to keep a basic daily log of my symptoms.

Phase Two: generalized anxiety

As I segued into this phase, the existential dread mostly withdrew during the day, leaving instead a sense of severe generalized anxiety. I’ve had issues with anxiety in the past, but it’s always been event-related or social, so Generalized Anxiety Disorder style anxiety was an interesting addition to my mental health cocktail. I still suffered the existential dread, but primarily during the Morning and Evening Hells, and as occasional spikes during the day. Mostly, I felt like it was off to one side somewhere, and felt anxiety about thinking about existential topics.

I got little done, but was able to occupy myself with podcasts, housework, simple games, and (oddly enough) Star Trek: The Original Series. Almost anything else I tried would worsen the anxiety, and threaten to trigger existential dreads. During this time I started sleeping more normally, but also began waking every night with chest pains and leg pains, which of course caused a great deal of anxiety about heart issues and blood clots. I also began to feel like I had begun to ‘wake up’ after having sleepwalked through the past year or so.

Phase Three: misc badfeels and weird sensory effects

As phase 2 segued into this one, around christmas day, the anxiety started to recede during the day. I’d get a window of safety varying from half an hour to a few hours, usually starting in the early afternoon. I began to leave the house more, going for walks with my partner, which could occupy me safely during bad feeling times. During those windows, I often still felt bad, but it felt like a ‘normal’ bad, like depression and ennui, rather than the very active generalized anxiety or severe dread. I also began to be able to read again, and to play games more widely. I committed to attending some local social events (some board games/RPG things, and a support group) and mostly tried to get on with life. 

I was frequently quite sluggish and slow, and didn't usually get much work done, even napping occasionally. As my days improved, my nights worsened, with bad sleep and bad dreams. I would also have odd brief sensory effects, such as hallucinations and waking dreams. For the first time since withdrawal started, I began to worry that I was slipping backwards and getting worse again. Up until that point, I had felt like, as awful as I was feeling, there was a slow but consistent improvement.

By early January I was having inconsistent bouts of the existential stuff and the generalized anxiety in the day, but looking back probably not as intensely as in the earlier phases.

Phase Four: inconsistent rehash

Phase four was similar to phase three, except without the consistency that phase three had (at least earlier on) of ‘morning bad, day safe, evening bad’. It also lasted longer than the ‘about a week’ of previous phases. I had ups and downs of general bad feelings throughout the day, with occasional spikes or longer bouts of existential fear or generalized anxiety, and I developed an aversion to going to bed (as most mornings would feel worse than evenings). I usually slept badly, and I started waking up during what I’m pretty sure were sleep-panic-attacks an hour or so after going to sleep. Chest pains and so on were very common and worrying, so I talked to the doctor a lot and ended up on some cardio waiting lists.

I had some depressive episodes which felt very much like the kind of depressive episodes I’ve had over my life, and about the same topics, though more intensely. It was almost comforting, in a back-to-normal sort of way.

Frankly, this whole phase felt like a random jumble of previous phase symptoms and pre-withdrawl mental health stuff, almost like dimming lightbulbs on an old electrical system, fading in and out and going on and off randomly and unpredictably.

Towards the end of January, I had a bad bout of flu, but during that time I felt a lot better in mental health terms. I don’t know if this was due to the distraction of a big obvious ‘thing to survive’ or if it was a natural upswing as part of the arc of that phase. After I got over the flu, I had a couple days of existential stuff reasserting itself, and I was worried that it was a second bout of Phase One, but I stopped recording my log on the 5th of February, so it’s hard to recall anything past this.

Interstitial Period

I’m pretty sure that for most of February, I felt ‘back to normal’, and was feeling more-or-less how I had been before withdrawal kicked off. That said, my capacity to occupy myself has not really recovered. I’m occasionally able to play games or read, but I often have a bad sense of ennui. This may be my natural yearly Seasonal Affective Disorder, or a natural depressive episode (I have consistently if infrequently had times where I’m unable to occupy myself and suffer ennui, just as part of being a depressed person), but I’ve not had one this long before.

I have a strong fear that my cognition/way of being/mental state has been permanently altered by that first phase, that it in some way ‘opened my eyes’ and now I will never be able to go back to how I was. I’m scared that I might never be free of this existential dread lurking in the back of my mind, but also trying to dissemble, forget, or distract myself feels like a foolish naivety. Its something we all have to face, so postponing the inevitable is pointless, but also I can’t overcome or accept it, so I’m trapped in a limbo.

Round Two?

After feeling mostly ’back to normal’ for a while, I’ve been having some bad times again. For about a week or so (end of febuary/beginning of march), I’ve been having existential fears and the ‘big mix of generalized bad feeling’ again, on and off during the day, and especially in mornings/evenings. I was very afraid that it was the beginning of a downslope into a full repeat of this entire cycle, but it’s been pretty consistent so far, rather than getting worse.

I’m hoping that this is indeed Round Two, and that its just a lot less bad than Round One, which would be consistent with what I’ve read about this stuff.

Final Thoughts

Phase one was the worst thing ive gone through in my life, but on good days I feel somewhat optimistic that it’s had a ‘rock bottom’ kind of effect, that I can find some positive things to come out of it.

It’s given me some perspective, and it’s helped me come out of a sleepwalking time in my life. I feel what i’m missing in my life much more keenly (social isolation/ lack of friends, lack of passion, lack of purpose/drive/meaning in my life), but I’m also able to work on them to some extent for the first time in years.

That said, I know these take a lot of time and work to fix, but it’s hard not to look at the glacially slow progress i’ve made as ‘no progress in basically three months’, and sink back into the things-will-never-get-better-so-why-try kind of depression.

I’m gonna keep trying, though.

[mysterious-prophetess]

I just read: “Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell

So, I finally read that book I saw a lot of folks talking about on here a year or four ago (I’m not good at keeping track of time, Ok? I’m lucky to know what day of the week it is!)

So I’m not going to spoil it, I’m just going to give my thoughts.

One: Not as gay as others had made it sound. Still gay, but not gay. 

I will say, I think this relationship felt perfectly natural and evolved nicely. I mean I wasn’t thrown through a loop when the two who were obsessed with one another got together. It was nice and it was sweet (well sweet for my tastes) a little like Yuri on Ice!!. #Victuuri for the win!

Two: Decent pace but it made it seem like I’d gotten a book series condensed down into one book. Like a lot of things were just touched on here and there and let’s move along. It was like that John Mulaney gif

Three: The Plot went right where I thought it might after about the One-Third mark. I mean I wasn’t 100% correct. I usually never am. My accuracy for fore-reading is about 75-80%. Not that it’s a bad thing that I guessed things were up.

I mostly blame the fandom upon whose works I compared this to the most: Harry Potter. I didn’t mean to but I was constantly making Harry Potter comparisons even though this felt more like a commentary against how things ended up in that universe. However, once I sniffed out the plot threads (which reminded me a bit too much of a few very common tropes in the HP fanon) it was hard for me not to really unravel the whole thing. 

Did that make this any less enjoyable a ride? Not really. It just let me see it coming. 

Over all: I think it set out to tell its own version of this magical boarding school story (and no, Harry Potter was not the first to do this! I’ve read a book older than HP that was a magical boarding school! Wizard’s Hall by Jane Yolen beat it to the punch x). I think it did it with its own flair but also kept the -very limited- genre conventions in mind enough to play with them. I’d compare it to Grossman’s The Magicians but that’d mean reading those books.