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blackjackkent · 3 months

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Wyll steps forward, crouches down to rest a hand in respect against the dead dragon's massive skull.

As his hand draws close, a sudden flare of white light flickers in the dragon's empty eye socket - then bursts outward like an explosion.

WHAM. The light bursts across Wyll's body, through his head, wrenching him off the ground and onto his back, floating contorted in midair.

Dimly he's aware of Hector screaming his name in alarm, but he can see nothing, feel nothing, he is conscious only of the tremendous presence flooding his mind.

Narrator: The dragon's spirit floods your mind and memory in a great torrent of power. He is with you, he is within you, he *is* you. The next words that spill from your mouth are not yours, but the wyrm's.

"I AM ANSUR. HEART OF THE GATE. BUTCHERED IN FLESH, RISEN IN SPIRIT."

Gods, it hurts... it hurts... He struggles for all the training his father gave him, the soldier's discipline and the leader's awareness and battles for control of his own mind.

Bite back the words that aren't yours.

Narrator: Ansur binds you despite your best efforts - yet thought flows effortlessly between you.

Narrator: The spirit pauses, and you feel the Astral Prism stir. Ansur senses the Emperor's presence within it.

ANSWER ME, FAESSI, the great dragon growls in his mind. WHY HAVE YOU COME?

The pain in his wrenched arms and back is overwhelming but he manages to grip on to the pieces of a response and draw them together into a coherent whole. My father sent me. Duke Ulder Ravengard. We need your help...

Narrator: A deep sigh resonates within you. The torrent stills - only disturbed by the dragon's next words.

VRAK. MY WORDS AREN'T MEANT FOR YOU, the dragon growls. THEY'RE MEANT FOR HIM.

The pain eases, the terrible power gripping him shifting as if to reduce the pressure on his spine. But he is not released, nor does he understand what's going on. At first he thinks the dragon somehow means Hector - but he suspects they may be locked in a moment all their own, and that Hector and the others have no knowledge of what is occurring here at all.

No... the dragon means someone else.

Narrator: The Emperor stirs in the Astral Prism... then in you. Calm, curious, and detached.

Dimly Wyll is aware of the Emperor's presence drifting into being at his side, wreathed in an undulating gold light, a counterpoint to Ansur's blue energy.

The dragon's voice seems to smile coldly. BALDURAN, it says. YOUR PRESENCE HAS STIRRED ME, AS IT EVER DID. I AM AWAKENED.

Ansur, the Emperor answers, its tone unreadable. It's been too long.

(A/N: For those wondering why I am not doing my usual flipping-a-shit about this reveal, I direct you to this post, my greatest victory in the field of deep cut reference spotting, where I worked this out about a month in advance. However, if I had not, I would ABSOLUTELY be losing my mind right now; this is huge.)

Wyll's body writhes with an undirected, desperate squirm; had he control of his face, it would show bewilderment, astonishment.

He called you Balduran? he thinks, and even such a simple thought takes such tremendous effort to formulate under the combined weight of the two personalities clashing in his head.

A name I once answered to, the Emperor answers. Its attention is fully focused on the dragon and very little upon Wyll; it answers almost carelessly. A name I did not expect to hear again, least of all from the mouth of an old friend.

FRIEND, YES, rumbles the dragon. AND MORE. UNTIL YOU KILLED ME. HAVE YOU COME TO DANCE ON MY BONES, BALDURAN? WAS SLAYING ME NOT SATISFACTION ENOUGH?

Wyll can see the Emperor's tentacles twitch out of the corner of his eyes. Satisfaction? the mind flayer answers. No. You left me no choice.

YOU HAD EVERY CHOICE! the dragon thunders. YOU WERE BECOMING ILLITHID. I OFFERED YOU MERCIFUL DEATH. YOU CHOSE TO FIGHT. AND NOW YOU BRING YOUR THRALL BEFORE ME. HOW FAR HAS THE GREAT BALDURAN FALLEN?

It's a good question, and one Wyll would be a lot more interested in the answer to if his brain didn't feel like it was being boiled from the inside out. But he struggles against the pain and the overwhelming forces clashing through his body, and focuses on his own pride, his own person, the will of his father and himself that he means to enact here or die trying.

I am no thrall, Ansur, he cries out mentally, with all the force he can muster. I've come for your aid!

Narrator: Stillness. Ansur's consciousness hovers just above yours, searching, seeing.

Dear Ansur... the Emperor begins, and there's a strange weight to its tone that is puzzling, but there's no time to work it out.

ENOUGH! the dragon roars, with such force that Wyll feels his skull might split apart. I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, BALDURAN! AND YOU REPAID ME IN SLAUGHTER. IT IS TIME I RETURN THE FAVOR!

Power begins to surge around the great corpse, infusing it with more of that pale blue light.

I AM THE HEART OF THE GATE! Ansur bellows like a thunderclap. I AM THE ONE WHO ROARS! LET MY BONES RISE AND THE STORMS GATHER. WITNESS, BALDURAN - THE FINAL TEMPEST HAS COME! THIS TIME YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE IT!

Wyll's body collapses to the ground. He hears Hector shouting again, feels friendly hands on his shoulders, helping him to his feet. But as he staggers up, his weight slumped into Hector's side, he looks up and sees that the dragon's corpse is moving.

"Oh gods..." Hector whispers. "What happened?"

Wyll pulls his feet under himself desperately, shoving aside the exhaustion and pulling his rapier from its sheath. "Nothing according to plan, that's for sure," he rasps. "And it's that damned illithid's fault."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #man i knew the twist and that was STILL one of the wildest scenes so far lol #god this game is so good

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bgn846 · 5 years

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FFXV Batio AU #2

Link is in the notes if you want to read on ao3...

Summary:

Ignis gets stuck outside before a snow storm hits. He has no choice but to share shelter with his vampire friend while it passes over. Fluff ensues, literally.

Thanks to @mintfoxmimi for letting me use her Batio AU for some short stories. :)

The steadily increasing wind was not a good sign. Ignis peered out across the fields and could easily see a storm coming. They needed to turn around and head back to town. Swiveling around Ignis nearly collided with Gladio’s chest. The vampire had moved without Ignis’ realizing it. “We need to head back.” He stated.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I, unlike you will die of exposure to cold.” Ignis hissed.

Gladio looked slightly hurt by the comment and pouted. “I know humans’ don’t like exposure to cold. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”

Ignis could already feel the chilly air from the approaching storm. They’d both gone off to investigate the possible hiding spot of a rogue vampire and the weather had unexpectedly turned. It was that time of year in between fall and winter when storms would crop up without warning. By the looks of the clouds this would not be a quick storm.

“Time is running out, if we head back now perhaps we will make it in time.” Ignis pressed again.

“I’m telling you Ignis, it’s not a good idea. Trust me.” Gladio pleaded, “I’ve seen enough storms in my years to know this one won’t just blow over.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” They were at least a two hour walk from town and if they left they might make it back. However, it appeared Gladio had other plans.

“Come on we can seek shelter in the cave we explored earlier. There was nothing there so we will be safe.”

Ignis sighed heavily; he wanted to go home but it looked like he didn’t have a choice. Getting trapped in an early winter storm with no protection from the elements was asking for trouble. Reluctantly he nodded and trudged after Gladio. It’s been three months since the vampire had befriended him and his life had changed considerably.

Aside from a few misunderstandings things were going well. Gladio clearly liked him and Ignis had to admit he had fun hanging out with the vampire. Drautos had been more willing to let Ignis explore so long as Gladio went with him. Not having to spend all day and night at the guild had been a nice break.

Walking into the cave Ignis began looking for something to build a fire. He knew he would need to find a heat source to stay warm. Gladio didn’t exactly radiate heat so he couldn’t rely on his friend for help.

“What are you doing?” Gladio asked once he noticed what he was doing.

“Looking for kindling, I need to start a fire.”

“I don’t know if we can do that either.” Gladio supplied with a frown. “The fire might draw attention that we don’t want.”

Ignis clutched the few twigs he’d already picked up. “What kind of attention?” he ventured worriedly.

“My kind.”

“I suppose a fire would signify an easy meal then wouldn’t it.” Ignis lamented as he dropped his sticks.

“Don’t worry Ignis, I told you I’d take care of you and I will.” Gladio swore.

The cold was starting to settle in his arms and legs as they stood in the cave entrance. He couldn’t stop his body from starting to shiver. The sun was going down and if the storm hadn’t rolled in they would have made it back to town just at sunset. Now they were stuck out in the cold with no choice but to wait.

“Oh damn.” Gladio exclaimed looking out the entrance.

Checking Ignis groaned, great this storm was cold and snowy. The flakes were starting to fall outside and the visibility was already worse. Crossing his arms Ignis hugged himself to try and retain some warmth.

“Come on follow me.” Gladio instructed as he walked further into the cave. “We can rest here until tomorrow morning and then walk back into town.”

“Rest where?” Ignis huffed, “I see nothing but hard cold rocks and no fire!”

“Oh I got that covered, don’t worry.” He smiled, “But first we gotta come up with a code.”

“A what?”

“If I poke you twice I’m asking if you are cold.” Gladio announced, “You can tell me or poke me back. Remember, two times back means you’re warm and once is still cold.”

Still confused as to what Gladio was going on about Ignis furrowed his brow. He was about to ask what Gladio meant when he morphed into a giant bat. Yelping out of surprise Ignis didn’t have time to move away when two giant wings surrounded him. “What are you doing?” Ignis knew Gladio couldn’t talk when he’d shape shifted but it didn’t stop him from trying to communicate.

The bat began shuffling them backwards and without warning it toppled them both over on the floor. Landing on top Ignis tried squirming in an attempt to get up, but the vampire clamped his bat wings tighter around him and kept him in place. His chorus of squeaks and vague head nodding seemed to indicate this was his plan all along.

Sighing Ignis gave up fighting and fully collapsed on the bat and into a thick coat of fur. He could feel his friend shifting them slightly and readjusting his wings. A draft of cold air had been coming in by his boots but that soon ceased. Ignis began to understand that what Gladio was trying to do. “You’re not warm blooded anymore. I don’t see how me huddling with you will help.”

The bat squeaked again and leaned forward to lick his forehead. That seemed to be the method of choice to communicate to Ignis that he didn’t understand something. Groaning Ignis huffed out a breath and watched it part the fur near his head. It was in this moment that his brain finally caught up to what Gladio was trying to do. Of course now it made sense! Astrals he was a dunce.

People wore animal skins and hides for warmth all the time. The fur or pelt was enough of a barrier to hold in warmth and stave off the cold. Gladio was making Ignis a nice cocoon with his wings and furry body to hold in his own body heat. The bat wings were flexible but strong and kept the wind at bay.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t tell me what your plans are before you do them. It would make things so much easier.” Looking up Ignis could swear the bat was smiling at him. Resting his head once more Ignis took a deep breath. He’d stopped shivering and could feel his body attempting to warm up.

After a moment a long pointy finger extended from one of the wings and poked him in the arm twice. Oh right, their code. He wasn’t warm enough yet so he couldn’t poke back twice. However, he wasn’t cold anymore either so a single poke wouldn’t do. “I’m getting warmer Gladio, I think this is working.” He offered instead.

The bat squeaked and sniffed his hair a few times. The toothy smile was still showing on his snout as he hugged him a little tighter. The light had begun to steadily fade and Ignis couldn’t make out much anymore. He thought he could see Gladio’s big bat ears twitching occasionally but he wasn’t sure. He would get a double poke every now and again. After the third time, he could with good conscious respond with the same signal. He finally felt warm. If he closed his eyes and focused hard enough he might be able to trick his brain into thinking he was back home in bed.

The storm raged on outside the cave entrance and the wind howled loudly. None of it reached him though as he lay protected within Gladio’s wings. Feeling tired Ignis closed his eyes and curled up slightly. The furry belly of a giant bat made an excellent place to fall asleep. It was soft and retained Ignis’ body heat perfectly.

The sounds of birds chirping drew Ignis out of sleep. The first rays of the sun were casting soft light into the cave entrance. Ignis became immediately worried for Gladio. Rolling over he shook the bats arm to get his attention. Tilting its oversized head the bat blinked a few times and squeaked at him. “Gladio it’s morning. I didn’t think you could handle sunlight this early.”

Ignis waited for a reaction but all he got was a lick to his forehead. Guess he didn’t understand Gladio’s limits yet. “Is it safe to head back into town?” He asked instead.

The bat nodded and loosened its massive wings to let Ignis get up. The cold air was sharp but not like it’d been the night before. The worst of the storm was over and Ignis could feel the temperature returning to a more mild level. The sound of water dripping indicated the light covering of snow was already melting away.

Walking towards the entrance to investigate Ignis thought he heard a voice. Turning quickly he noted that Gladio had morphed back into a vampire. “Did you hear that?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Gladio paused and nodded. “I think it’s one person.” He offered as he strode in front of Ignis to shield him from the visitor.

Ignis watched as Gladio threw his cowl over his head and approached the entrance slowly. The voice they heard finally became clear and it appeared it was shouting for them both. “I know who it is.” Gladio supplied. A man came into view a minute later and he blew out a puff of air in what looked like relief.

“Thank the six, you both are alright. You behave yourself Gladio?” The man asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Cor, I’m not like that.”

The man Cor waved him off and walked over to Ignis. “I’m afraid we haven’t had time to meet. I’m Marshal Cor Leonis.” He replied extending his hand to shakes Ignis’. “I hope Gladio treated you well.”

“Oh yes,” Ignis answered in shock. He’d never met the District Marshal before and had only heard stories about the stoic blue eyed soldier. “Why are you here sir?” he asked unable to remain quiet any longer.

“I arrived just before the storm hit and they needed help this morning searching for people who got lost. Some other guild members were out as well. Drautos and the others went to go find them and I came to find you.”

“I see.” Ignis murmured.

“Come on we’d best get back so you can get some proper food and rest.” Cor offered staring at Ignis, he then paused and looked outside. “It’s still overcast; think you’ll manage Gladio?”

“As long as Ignis doesn’t mind me taking a rest in his rooms to recuperate.” Gladio checked.

Cor nodded, “I’ll make sure Drautos is distracted once he gets back. You should have plenty of time.”

“Are you okay with that Iggy?” Gladio asked.

Ignis stood staring at the two of them. It appeared Cor knew more than he was letting on but Ignis couldn’t be sure. Swallowing hard Ignis nodded and smiled.

Gladio must have picked up on his confusion. “Cor knows, it’s okay.”

It was with that final statement that they began the trek back to town. Gladio kept his cowl up and his face pointed towards the ground. The snow was reflecting too much sun and at one point they had to stop under a tree so Gladio could cover his face with a scarf. After that he seemed okay and traipsed along the path between Cor and himself.

Thankfully the sun stayed hidden behind clouds for most of the walk. Ignis silently reached over and poked Gladio in the arm twice. He poked him back two times but left his arms covered under his cloak.

Once they’d reached the guild Cor ushered them inside and upstairs right way. Ignis took over once they’d reached the top of the stairs and unlocked his door. Gladio sank to his knees the second the door was closed behind them. Ignis was more than alarmed at seeing Gladio in this state. The power of the sun was evident in his tired appearance.

Gladio smiled when Ignis began hovering over him. “I’m alright, I need some time to rest and I’ll be back to normal.”

“You could have stayed in the cave and not risked hurting yourself.” Ignis chided.

“Nah, I feel better when I’m with you anyway.”

Cor cleared his throat and cut in. “You lock your door and don’t let anyone besides me in.” he ordered. “I’ll bring you up some food so you can stay in here and make sure he doesn’t try and fly off. He doesn’t fly straight when he’s suffering from sun poisoning.”

Gladio groaned and shook his head. “That was one time.” He huffed.

Chuckling Cor gave a slight bow and left the room. Ignis immediately went to lock his door afterwards. The rest of the day was fairly calm. Ignis ate lunch in his rooms while he watched Gladio rest on his bed. The vampire’s eyes were closed but he suspected he wasn’t sleeping.

Two hours passed in this manner until Ignis lost track of time while reading a book. The creaking of his bed caused him to look up. Gladio was gone. Looking around frantically, he noticed a small round ball of fluff hopping along the edge of the bed. “Oh no you don’t!” He exclaimed. “Cor said you shouldn’t fly.”

Running over he attempted to catch the little bat. Gladio evaded his grasp and had Ignis running all over his bedroom trying to grab him. Ignis had to leap off his bed in order to get a hold of Gladio. Landing on the floor in a heap he looked at the bat and grinned. “Gotcha!”

It was in that moment that Gladio turned back into a vampire. Except, instead of Ignis holding a cute little bat he was now sprawled out across Gladio’s stomach.

“I was trying to prove to you that I was better.” Gladio laughed.

Groaning Ignis remained where he was and decided to poke his friend twice in the side. “Why can’t you just tell me these things!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gladio announced with a roguish grin.

Ignis knew Gladio was having far too much fun but part of him enjoyed the game. He was grateful Gladio had been there to help him and he hoped they would get to have more adventures in the future.

#ffxv #fanfic #batio #gladio #ignis #vampire au #fluff #vampire gladio #human ignis #cor shows up for a cameo

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voltron-bug · 6 years

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My take on bisexual Lance still being a thing/Klance

I’m not trying to be “that guy” that brings Klance up at every given moment, because I promise you, Klance isn’t my biggest priority in Voltron. I’m sticking around because I want to see what’s in store for Lance. And honestly? I feel like it’s still possible for Lance to be bisexual/Klance being a thing in canon.

If you have been having negative feelings towards VLD so far for their poor representation of Lance, the lack of Keith and Lance interaction, and/or lack of payoff for a lot of things, I HIGHLY recommend you read this post, I have a lot of things I touch on in it and it may help you see things a little differently.

Allow me to begin.

At first watching season 6, the way Lance had been portrayed with his feelings for Allura, I let it get to me. I was afraid his sexuality wasn’t going to be a part of his story. This season was very much in-your-face about his feelings for Allura and it felt like the point the writers were trying to drive home for viewers. They’re constantly reminding you of his feelings for girls.

You must remember, however; everything is not as it seems. Especially in this show. Take Lotor, for example. Y’know?

I personally don’t have anything against Allura and Lance being a couple. But it just feels weird to me to have them come together like this. We saw in the first 5 seasons (some seasons showing it more than others) how Lance does have a thing for Allura, but it’s unrequited the entire time. It just doesn’t feel right to all of a sudden change it. Not only that, but Allura actually had feelings for Lotor first. He had shown who he really was, and he was the one who broke Allura and himself apart. Her feelings for him were still very much present before this happened, thereby making him her first choice; the person she had actually come to like. Lance would have been the second choice in this scenario, and that would be doing him dirty, especially for his already insecure mindset about himself. Nothing solid was established between Lance and Allura by the end of the season, though it still leaves you wondering.

At this point, I still had those negative feelings nagging at my gut that my hope to see Lance’s sexuality develop was for nothing. We see he clearly has a thing for girls. They’ve made sure to show us throughout the entire series. That’s the thing, though. Bisexual means being attracted to two or more genders. Duh, right?

I began thinking about how his sexuality might actually still become a part of his arc. So I thought up a few examples that could aide in showing how his development may play out, and go figure two of the biggest ones were from Avatar: the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra, both of which shows have a production connection to VLD lol.

In ATLA, Sokka didn’t see his biggest character development until more towards the end of the series. He matured from being an obnoxious, jealous, mean, irresponsible joke, to being a caring, loving, loyal, and talented warrior, leader, and military strategist. As you’ve seen so far in VLD, Lance hasn’t completed his arc yet. We’ve gotten some development for him, but not as much as I feel like we will get for him. There’s still at least 26 episodes left.

In LoK, in the beginning of the series Bolin has a thing for Korra, and they even go out on a date at one point. But it didn’t work out between the two of them. Korra was more interested in his brother, Mako. Bolin was able to move on, though. I feel like the connection here could be made between Bolin and Lance. As we have seen with Lance, he clearly has a thing for Allura, and has since the beginning. It didn’t seem like Allura felt the same about him, and it’s very possible it just wouldn’t work between the two. Lance will have to realize this and then, like Bolin, he’ll be able to move on. As for the end of LoK, however, Bolin ended up finding the right person for him, who was, in fact, not Korra. There’s also the fact that in the end of this series, Asami and Korra are confirmed bi girlfriends (and they’re both the colors red and blue like Keith and Lance, but that’s just me reaching lmao.)

It’s also theorized that in s6, there was a big hint that Lance is bisexual. This post will explain that.

Lance’s arc is about his insecurities. We’ve seen just how he feels insecure about himself. He’s also not quite reached the point yet where he sees his full potential and just how vital and important he is to everyone. He feels very isolated, and he feels like there’s part of him that doesn’t really fit with everyone. It could be because he’s hiding a part of himself, and until he realizes that that part of him is very much there and present, and a big part of who he is, he’s got a lot to discover about himself.........

To help me explain this point, I’ll refer you to the theory about this drawing by Lauren herself. I’m sure you’ve heard the theories about this already, but I’ll briefly explain if you haven’t. If you don’t want to read the theory again, you can just skip this next paragraph and move to the one below it.

In this drawing you see Pidge and Allura holding the sign that says “Gender”, and early on in the series for Pidge’s story, Allura played a role in Pidge actually being a girl instead of a boy. Hunk and Keith are holding the sign that says “Race”, and Hunk played a role in the part of Keith’s story where it was discovered he was actually part galra. Shiro and Lance are holding the sign that says “LGBT”, and it’s theorized that Shiro may play a role in Lance discovering he’s actually bisexual. Here’s a video that helps explain this further, I’ve time-stamped it to the part talking about this drawing, but I recommend watching the whole thing. It’s a very interesting and well-said take!

VLD’s story thus far hasn’t been focused on romance. There has indeed been some in it, but the biggest percentage of it was in season 6, involving Lance, Allura, and Lotor. Keith’s character arc has pretty much been completed, and that would give some time for other characters to get their chance, namely Lance. It’s very possible we had a lot of romance in season 6 because we’re preparing for a big part of Lance’s arc; his sexuality.

Lance’s arc won’t just be about his sexuality, however.

I won’t lie, it has felt like so far everything we’ve seen with Lance hasn’t had any payoff yet. Shiro had called out to him in the astral plane, yet Lance had no part in rescuing him. He discovered he was able to transform the red bayard into a sword, yet so far he hasn’t been able to utilize this feature. In season 6, all of the characters seemed to play a major role in some way, yet Lance wasn’t able to offer anything special to the table. In the first episode, there was even a moment where Lance nearly died, yet it was hardly touched on. He was very low-spirited in a lot of this season as well, and his friends even made fun of him for the way he was feeling. It felt unfair. But it’s important to remember; we still have time. There’s still an entire third of the series left.

All of this felt like it was happening in the last few seasons, yet there was no payoff. That very well could be because we are preparing for the part of his arc where it all gets mentioned, it’s all brought back up and that’s when Lance has his big moment we have all been on the edge of our seats waiting for.

We have still yet to see all of what Lance is capable of, and I have more hope now that I’ve been able to realize a lot of this.

Now let’s talk more about Klance...

I’ve talked about Lance’s sexuality thus far, so how could Keith play a role in this? I’m sure most of you already know some of these things, but let’s go over them again just so it’s all laid out in front of us.

First and foremost; the writers.

As we know, both Joaquim and Lauren have stated they were very happy with the ending of Legend of Korra (as they both worked on the story), talking about Korra and Asami being a couple. By this, we know they wouldn’t be opposed to an idea like Klance. We’ve also seen how they are when it comes to asking about LGBT rep in the series, for example;

This can be found in this interview with Tim Hedrick.

Baiting isn’t really something they would do, and they’ve mentioned before how they never intend to do so. It’s important to remember this interview took place just after season 1, so they were still developing the story at the time. It does, however, feel to me like if they had no intention whatsoever to include it in the story, then he would have come right out and said so.

Now, let’s bring up one of the most famous and heavily referenced scenes when anyone talks about Klance; The Bonding Moment.

Since the beginning, Lance has had this idea that he and Keith are “rivals”, and it has been confirmed that this so-called “rivalry” is one-sided. During the bonding moment, that’s when Lance really started to see his “rival” differently. This is most likely when he got an inkling for his feelings towards Keith. It’s been said that Lance actually does remember the bonding moment, but he wasn’t emotionally ready to accept it. That’s why he said that it “didn’t happen”.

What does this mean? Well, as someone who actually is bisexual, I can tell you what it seems like to me. It could be Lance being in denial about his feelings towards a boy. He constantly has to remind us he’s all about the ladies, but maybe that’s just him pushing the idea of liking boys to the back of his mind (let’s peek at that big hint in season 6 again, shall we). This whole time Lance could have been mistaking his feelings for Keith as this “rivalry”. I personally like to say the term “rivalry” is a code word for “feelings”. We all know he likes ladies, but liking boys would be something he has to discover about himself.

Before I change to another point, I’ll bring up the bonding moment reference in season 6. One thing to remember about these scenes is when he says this line to Keith, the atmosphere is heavier and more serious, more feeling is put into it than with Allura. Though, showing it with Allura hints these words have more of a romantic implication, both then and now. It’s symbolism, if you will.

We’ve seen Lance’s insecurities surface a lot here lately. When did it start to get worse though? When Keith left. That’s when Lance started to seem a lot lonelier, a lot sadder, and a lot more insecure about himself. He’s expressed his insecurities before Keith left, but it’s started to really take off once he was gone. He’s also tried to express his feelings before, and there was really only one person who would actually listen to him and take him seriously. The next scene that is heavily referenced when talking about Klance is the famous Bedroom Scene.

(Let me specify something before I continue; Allura has listened to Lance too, but it was Keith that Lance actively sought out.)

This scene has very similar vibes to the bonding moment, but it’s a bit more evolved. Lance was in denial during the bonding moment, whereas in the bedroom scene, he’s a bit more open to these feelings. He might not fully recognize what they are yet, but he’s not pushing Keith away this time.

Both of these scenes were prominent and important, there’s no way they’re not going to come back up at some point.

Season 3 seemed to have a lot of prominent scenes with both Keith and Lance together. Unfortunately though, Keith didn’t stick around after this season. When he left, the development between him and Lance had to come to a standstill. There’s actually a reason I don’t get very upset over Keith leaving, but I’ll talk about that later.

Lance does a good job at offering consolation when other’s need it, but hardly anyone reciprocates it for him. Keith so far has been the most prominent one. Not only that, but both Keith and Lance have showed vulnerability to one another, showing just how much they’ve become closer. (Not to be a burden, but I like the idea of since Keith has returned, he’s going to be able to offer comfort to Lance after what happened in the last episode of season 6. Y’know, because Lance thinks it’s his fault about what happened to Shiro...)

Speaking of season 6, I’m just going to shoehorn this in lol, but when Keith contacted them for the first time, Lance noticed something was different about him immediately. His appearance had changed, and that means Lance actually does pay close attention to him.

He also makes sure to comment on it again, and this time, it’s in the form of an unaware compliment.

Not to mention Lance was visibly happy to hear from Keith again

I’m going to bring up this old thing now, some of you may recognize the quote. What does Lance look for in a future partner? Lauren answers with “I don’t know if Lance knows what he needs. I know what he might look for, but what he might look for is not necessarily what he needs. I think he needs someone who is self-assured and knows herself, so that he can kind of become that same person and know himself.” Joaquim adds, “I mean, I think Lance is evolving. So I think, like Lauren said, whoever Lance chooses, I think what he’s looking for is getting to a place that is maybe very different than where he started in the series.”

Keith has undergone a lot of maturing. He definitely fits this description very well. As I mentioned before, Keith and Lance have been able to confide in one another. Keith would be able to express his words better now than he did during the bedroom scene. He’d be able to help Lance see who he really is and how important he is.

Let me also mention, “I think what he’s looking for is getting to a place that is maybe very different than where he started in the series.” Didn’t we already establish that he’s had a thing for Allura since the beginning...?

Also Lauren may use the pronoun “her” referring to a partner, but she’s been known to stretch the truth and use different pronouns to throw the audience off, namely during season 1, she would, in the beginning, refer to Pidge as “he”.

I’m going to mention now how I’m aware some people are upset over the fact that there wasn’t a reunion scene with the group in this most recent season, namely with Keith and Lance. The best reasoning behind this is simply because there wasn’t enough time for it. Ever since Keith came back, every moment had been spent in action. They didn’t have time to catch up or just sit for a few minutes. Yeah, it would have been great to see, but the writers were just pressed for time and couldn’t put everything in the season. I will reiterate; we still have time.

EDIT: HEY GUESS WHAT I DIDN’T SEE UNTIL JUST NOW, AND GUESS WHAT JUST BOOSTED MY HOPES FOR EVERYTHING I HAVE JUST SAID

EDIT: I’m going to link this post here that will offer some points that show incompatibility between Lance and Allura. I didn’t list them initially, and they are articulated well here, so I’ll let this post explain instead. It sums up my thoughts on the subject pretty well. There’s also some Klance compatibility in it too.

Now let’s talk more about the show itself. This is gonna kind of trail off a little from what I was talking about, but I personally think this is fairly important to remember.

I’ve mentioned it several times throughout this meta that we need to give it more time. This next part is kind of important to know, and since I found confirmation about it, it’s helped me understand why some of the things that happened, happened. In the season 2 finale, as you all probably remember, Shiro disappeared from the Black Lion after his big fight with Zarkon. It seemed like the focus was going to be on finding him in the next season, and it was, kind of. But he came back too quickly, and there’s a reason for that. The writers were forced to bring him back, causing them to rewrite what they had originally planned. This very well may have been a cause of a lot of flaws in the series so far.

I had a conversation with a friend about this not too long ago, and we’ve come to these realizations;

Originally, Keith was supposed to grow as a paladin in Black while Shiro was gone

Chances are, Lance would have had a little more development too

S3 was very good, it was s4 that things started to get a little iffy, story-wise, and that’s when they had to rewrite everything

Keith may still have left the team at some point, but he would have been developed more when he would have

Mentioning the press for time earlier, that’s probably why each season is only 6-7 episodes at a time

Clearly the writers were upset over this, given how blunt they were with their answers

This was out of the writer’s hands, and it was because the executives wanted to make a few extra dollars, therefore; the story had to suffer.

Don’t blame Joaquim and Lauren for this. Blame the executives and their greedy pockets. I’m sure what they had originally planned was better than what’s happened. The show is still good, mind you! For the hand they’ve been dealt, they’ve handled it fairly well. We can all agree, yes, it’s had its flaws. But I’m sure if it had never been disrupted in the first place, it would have flowed better than it ended up doing. I hate thinking about all the flaws that have been pointed out and all the criticisms people have made (mind you, yes, people are allowed to criticize it), but just thinking about Lauren and Joaquim seeing them and realizing just what happened breaks my heart.

It feels like now, we’ve finally looped back around to where they originally wanted the story to head, and they’ve gotten over the hurdle that was thrown at them. The initial vision they had may be coming back around, and I’m feeling hopeful.

So, yeah! I’ve thought about all of this, I’ve been looking into a lot of things, and to be honest? I’m feeling good about what’s in store. I choose to look at this in a more positive light. I also want to give everyone hope at a shot for bi Lance and Klance.

I’d like to also say there are a bunch of good metas out there talking about this very subject, I’m sure a lot of these points may have been touched on before, but I feel like it’s important to keep all of these details in mind when you get to losing hope. All of this was put in the series for a reason, they wouldn’t do it for nothing.

There’s a lot of things that I’ve not mentioned in this, i.e. Color Symbolism being a major one (the colors of the bisexual flag being used in a lot of scenes involving Lance), but a lot of metas do cover this topic and others, these that I spoke of were ones I wanted to really touch on and remind people of.

And also freakin’ cheers to you if you stuck with this all the way through lol, I ended up writing a lot more than I intended.

#Klance #Voltron: Legendary Defender #Voltron s6 spoilers #VLD #lance mcclain #keith kogane #text #HEY!!!!! I FINISHED!!!!!!!!!!#THIS TOOK ME A LOOONG TIME TO ORGANIZE #I'M HAPPY WITH THE END RESULT THO!!!#I HOPE U ALL LIKE IT EITHER!!!!#Also if anything comes up and I've made errors/got some things wrong #if anyone points them out to me #I will correct them!

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cakelanguage · 6 years

Text

Since I can finally release it to the public, here is my gift to Ore_wa_kouhai on AO3 for the Noctis Exchange I was part of! It starts fluffy and the second part is smutty so you can either read just one or both parts if you like! It’s Promptis just to let you all know.

Read it on AO3

Noctis didn’t really understand how people could jump from liking one person to the next in such short spans of time. He’d brought it up once to Ignis when he was younger, but the older had an equally confounding answer:

It just happens.

He didn’t understand how you could go from loving the way your crush’s eyes sparkled when they were excited or their laughter filled the silence, to a dull acknowledgement that fizzled out when you found someone new. It scared him to think about it.

Prompto seemed to have had his attention since day one.

Prompto was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, his blonde hair styled just so to capture that “cool” look he was going for just added to the sunshine effect he had. When he was younger and too shy to talk to him, Noctis liked to imagine how he would approach the other boy. How he’d muster up that Lucian courage Gladio was always blathering about and just start talking. But he didn’t want to force the other boy to be his friend so he’d admired Prompto from afar.

Actually, now that they were friends, Noctis felt like he admired Prompto even more now.

He liked staring at the freckles covering his best friend’s face, counting each perfect speckle like he would the stars in the sky. He’d only ever managed to make it to 387 before he’d been distracted by those blue eyes that saw the masterpiece of the world in every snap of his camera. The flashes of emotion that went through those eyes always had Noctis paying them special attention, especially when he needed to know what Prompto wasn’t saying.

And of course there was Prompto’s lips. He had no problem with admitting to himself that he was distracted by those the most. He loved how Prompto’s upper lip was thinner than the bottom, almost giving him a resting pouting face. He loved the way that when Prompto relaxed his mouth, his lips would part ever-so slightly to reveal just a few of his teeth. He adored the way each side of his best friend’s mouth would quirk in opposite directions when he was nervous or flustered. The teasing grin Prompto would send him always managed to make his heart flutter happily in his chest.

But by the Astrals, nothing took his breath away quite like Prompto’s smile. The smile made his nose scrunch just slightly and the corners of his eyes to crinkle, and of course to expose his teeth in that overjoyed expression. On more than one occasion that smile had made Noctis’ knees weak when it’d caught him off-guard.

If he wasn’t already aware of the Astrals’ interference with his life what with the prophecy he’d heard bits and pieces about, he’d bet that Prompto was a gift from the Astrals themselves.

“Hellooo?”

Noctis startled and focused back in on the present instead of just Prompto’s face. He’d only gotten to 253 that time. “Did you say something?” Noctis asked.

Prompto snorted and shoved him. “Dude, stop going off into dreamland I was telling you some important stuff,” He said.

“Oh, uh- could you repeat it?”

“You have chocobos dancing in your head already?”

Noctis scoffed. “As if, it’s only 8.”

“You mean 9?”

“Fine, 9, whatever, just tell me again Prompto.”

Prompto rolled his eyes. “Ugh, if I really must, I suppose I can tell it again.” Prompto scooted closer to him on the couch, almost bumping the abandoned controller off the cushion. “So, I’ve been thinking about styling my hair differently.”

“Uh huh, got any ideas?”

A grin spread across Prompto’s face as he whipped out his phone. “I’m glad you asked because I already gathered some inspiration pictures.” He quickly pulled the first one up and turned the screen so he could see the picture.

“Is that a picture of Ignis?”

“What? The guys got a good sense of style even if Iggy needs to loosen up a bit.”

He made a noncommittal noise and held Prompto’s phone up so that he could look at the picture beside Prompto’s face. “It doesn’t really scream you.”

“Of course not because I wouldn’t be copying Ignis’ style exactly, Noct. I’m pulling inspiration from it.”

“Right, alright you want me to just swipe to the next one then?”

“Yeah sure go ahead.”

The next picture showed some model with similar swooping bangs like Prompto had now, but with more layers.

“I kinda like this one.”

Prompto grinned and crossed his arms. “Right? It just a little edgier than my hair is now.”

“Another one of those attempts to be ‘cool’?”

Prompto gave a mock gasp. “I can’t believe you’d say such lies against me, your best friend.” He poked a finger against Noctis’ chest. “I’ll have you know I’m plenty cool already.”

He smiled. “Yeah, you’re cool.”

All he got was an eye roll and a huff of exasperation. “Ugh, now I can’t even tell if you’re being honest or just making me feel better.”

Noctis nudged him with his elbow, unable to stand the flash of worry in his friend’s eyes. “Hey, of course you’re cool, I was just kidding dude.”

Prompto looked at him through his lashes and smiled softly. “Thanks Noct.”

Noctis felt the heat rush towards his cheeks and coughed awkwardly before looking back at Prompto’s phone. “So uh, got any other inspiration or was it just those two?”

“Oh uh, yeah, well, I mean- kinda? Go ahead and look but like don’t freak out when you see, okay? It’s just for inspiration.”

He gave his friend a dry look. “I wasn’t worried before, but I sure am now.”

“Noct, come on,” Prompto whined.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the tone of voice Prompto was using. He was adorable when he whined. “Alright, alright.” He swiped the Prompto’s screen and looked at the picture before immediately shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, you didn’t even consider it.”

“Oh my bad, let me think… No.”

“Can you at least admit that it looks cool?”

Noctis looked back at the picture, taking in the short red spikes all over the models head. “I mean, I guess it does…”

“I’m sensing the biggest ‘but’ coming up, go ahead and say it.”

“I don’t I just… like you as a blonde I guess and well,” he reached over a lightly tugged on a chunk of Prompto’s hair. “Your hair is good this length.” Just long enough that Noctis could run his fingers through it when Prompto was having a bad day or when he wanted someone to play with his hair. And why would Noctis turn down any chance to do that?

Prompto swiped at his hand, an adorable snort followed by laughter snuck out of his mouth. Noctis could listen to that sound for the rest of his life and still not get tired of hearing it.

Astrals, he really had it bad.

“What if I just shortened the back a bit?” Prompto asked, “Like so the focus would all be up front.”

He hummed thoughtfully, looking from the picture to Prompto again. “Only a little bit, right?”

“Noct.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just clarifying, didn’t want you to go shave it all off in the back.”

Prompto nodded. “Yeah, okay, just a little bit. But you think that’d be cool?”

Noctis wanted to cup Prompto’s face with both hands and truly cement that curious look he was being given into his memory. “I think so.” He stood up, walking to the utility draw in his kitchen and took out the hair clippers. “So… want to go ahead and do it?” He cursed himself when a blush managed to cover his face at his phrasing.

They hadn’t even kissed yet, it was way too soon to be actually thinking about that.

Prompto’s eyes widened. “Where did you even get those?”

He shrugged. “Iggy brought them over when I asked him to the last time I needed a haircut. It’s too much of a hassle to wait for an appointment with a hair stylist, besides I think I do a pretty good job, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t know you did it yourself, so you have my approval!”

Noctis playfully snipped at the air with the scissors. “Come on then, we can try out some styles.” After he saw that Prompto had gotten off the couch, he started walking towards his bathroom. “I’m almost positive I have some hair gel that Iggy left here.”

It was a bit of a tight squeeze for them to both fit in front of the mirror, especially with Noctis needing to stand behind Prompto so he could make sure he wouldn’t cut off too much hair, but they made it work. And if his cheeks and ears were pink he was going to blame it on the lighting.

Prompto’s back radiated warmth and he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against his best friend and lazily press kisses to his freckled skin. But he didn’t have that luxury, not yet at least. Maybe one day. Hopefully.

“So how short are you thinking in the back?” Noctis asked, trying to re-center his focus on Prompto’s hair instead of what he wanted to do.

Prompto shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe just make it so that you mostly just see wisps of hair from the front?”

“Wispy…” Noctis muttered to himself before gently grabbing a piece of Prompto’s hair. Carefully he brought the scissors up and made his first official cut. “Like that?”

Prompto grabbed the shorter piece and compared it to the rest of the pieces in the back of his head. “I like it.” He gave him two thumbs up in the mirror. “Good job buddy, keep it up”

Doing Prompto’s hair was surprisingly fun. They talked a lot while Noctis cut what needed to be cut. He was always combing his fingers through Prompto’s hair before he continued on with cutting and trimming. Mostly so Prompto could easily say that he’d cut enough so they could go on to styling.

Finally Prompto was satisfied with the cut and they moved on to the fun part.

“So, I’m going to wing it, is that okay?” Noctis asked as he unscrewed the lid of the hair gel.

Prompto nodded. “I trust you not to make me look ridiculous.”

Noctis laughed. “Maybe now I should try to make you look ridiculous.”

“How about no?”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He stared at the freshly cut blonde fluff on Prompto’s head and thought back to the pictures he’d seen on Prompto’s phone. He’d already incorporated the red hairstyle into Prompto’s new look, bur now for the other two. The swoop of hair over Prompto’s right eye was too adorable to get rid of so instead he decided to incorporate it. He began meticulously picking up small sections of Prompto’s hair and after a little teasing near the roots, he’d gel them into swooping spikes.

Slowly but surely, Prompto’s new hairstyle was looking great. Leaving weight in the front allowed people to really focus on Prompto’s face. Not even just that, but the way Prompto’s hair framed his face just so made Noctis’ heart flutter happily.

“You almost done?” Prompto asked, looking up at Noctis from his seat on the toilet seat.

“Don’t rush perfection,” Noctis retorted.

Prompto whistled. “We’re going for perfection?” He watched Prompto’s arm raise as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe we should have picked you as the test subject if we wanted perfection.”

Noctis’ could swear he felt his face flush a deeper red at the statement. “You’re perfect,” he muttered, brushing a stray piece of hair behind Prompto’s ear.

This was steadily approaching unknown territory but Noctis couldn’t stop himself at this point. Prompto looked too good with his new hairstyle and he could see more of those beautifully, distracting freckles. He watched as Prompto’s face turned a little pink and listened to the quiet laugh the other male let out. He was enraptured by Prompto. Everything about his best friend made him fall harder and harder in love with him.

Before he even knew it, their faces were centimeters apart, lips just shy of touching.

“Prompto,” he whispered, watching his friend intently to see how he’d react.

“Uh huh?”

“C-can I kiss you?” Please, he needed to kiss him so badly. He’d waited and wanted for so long to press their lips together and he was finally so close. “W-would that be weird?”

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed, and Noctis couldn’t stop the shutter that ran through him as he felt the other man’s breath against his lips. “I-I mean yes you can kiss me, I didn’t mean it would b-be weird. W-well maybe a good weird I-“

Noctis quickly cut Prompto off by pressing their lips together. It was delicate at first, just a brush of lips, only enough for Noctis to feel the softness of his best friend’s lips before they were pulling away. The two stared at each other, eyes seemingly trying to devour each reaction the other had. Noctis licked his lips and watched as Prompto’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue.

There was no delicacy in the second kiss. It was wet; the slick pressing of lips, unabashedly uncoordinated. It was perfect. Noctis let a sigh pass through him which Prompto seemed to devour with a hunger he didn’t know the other boy possessed. Noctis, feeling bold, slowly poked his tongue out of his mouth and shyly traced the seam of Prompto’s lips.

It was like he’d pressed just the right button because suddenly there were hands digging into his hips and Prompto had opened his mouth just enough to let his tongue join Noctis’. It felt strange, pressing his tongue against another’s, but it wasn’t a bad strange, just new. He tasted the remnants of chocolate on his friend’s tongue. He wondered if Prompto could taste the soda he’d been drinking before this all started.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t stay connected forever, but as he pulled away he got to take in his new second favorite Prompto expression: pupils blown wide, chest heaving slight, cheeks stained red, and mouth hanging open just so, like he didn’t know what to do with his lips now that they weren’t connected to Noctis’.

Stunning.

He leaned their foreheads together. “Sorry, I know that was sudden,” he said. Prompto made a small noise, but it didn’t sound negative. “I- well I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

If possible, Prompto’s eyes seemed to get even larger. “W-what?”

Noctis winced. “Too much?”

His friend shook his head. “N-no, I just- really?”

“For at least four years I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

Prompto let out a breath. “You’ve… wanted to kiss me for four years?”

Noctis shrugged. “It’s kinda easy to fall in love with you.”

Noctis didn’t have time to be worried about his official confession to Prompto, his first crush, before his lips were attacked again. But that was fine. The third kiss said ‘I love you.’

He only hoped that one day, their shared kisses would be as innumerable as the freckles on Prompto’s face.

~Part 2~

Noctis was the embodiment of the night sky.

His dark hair and black clothes, customary to the Lucian line, accompanied by his creamy white skin reminded Prompto of the dark nights and the moon. More often than not he’d find himself staring at the stark contrast Noctis made to the sunshine, admiring the way he stood out.

Kissing Noctis was like falling through star fields. Each brush of their lips creating stardust that in-turn twinkled in Noctis’ eyes when they met his. And when kisses grew more intense, when the brushes became passionate slides of wet lips and dueling tongues, Prompto felt like Noctis had become a supernova, something intense and burning and awe-inspiring.

The two separated eventually, panting for air but never backing off more than an inch as if they’d really become two planets dancing around each other. Noctis pressed his forehead against his and Prompto took the time to stare into Noctis’ eyes, taking in the blown pupils and barely visible twinkling blue of his irises.

“You okay?” Prompto asked, bringing his hand up to tuck a piece of Noctis’ hair behind his ear.

Noctis chuckled and playful tapped their foreheads together. “More than okay,” he said. He gave a breathy laugh as he watched Prompto’s pupils dilate further. “I’m fine with continuing if you are.”

Prompto brought his hand up and cupped the back of Noctis’ head. “Yeah, of course.”

Noctis smiled and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off with a purr of approval as Prompto trailed his hand from the back of his neck to his sternum, fingers tracing a random pattern across his skin.

With a gentle press of Prompto’s hand, Noctis leaned back on the bed, preparing to lavish in the attention that Prompto was happily giving him. He sighed happily as Prompto circled his nipple with a finger, making sure to flick over the stiffening nub ever so often.

Just as Noctis was getting used to the little bursts of pleasure that came from his nipple, Prompto bent over and took the neglected nipple delicately between his teeth successfully pulling a moan out of Noctis.

“Prompto,” Noctis hissed, his eyes squeezed tight at the sudden onset of arousal that spiked when Prompto took his nipple into his mouth. “Please, Prompto, don’t-“

His breath hitched as he took in the mischievous look in Prompto’s eyes. His best friend made sure he was keeping eye-contact as he took the rest of the nipple into his mouth and gave it a suck. Noctis cursed, his hands clenching at his sheets uselessly. His dick was already straining in the confines of his underwear, desperate for some kind of attention. He tried grinding his hips up to get some sort of friction but Prompto was just a little too far away.

After a few moments of teasing, Prompto released his hold on Noctis’ nipple with a soft pop. “You look like you need a little help there, Noct.”

Noctis could have wept at the feeling of Prompto’s hand approaching the waistband of his briefs and couldn’t stop the whine he let out when Prompto’s hand stopped its descent. Prompto snickered, burying his face in Noctis’ neck. “What do you want me to do, Noct?” Prompto whispered.

Noctis shivered as Prompto’s breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. “T-touch me.”

His boyfriend hummed thoughtfully. “Where, Noct?” He placed a kiss just below Noctis’ ear, seemingly savoring the effect he was having on him. “Where do you want me to touch?”

Noctis frowned, desperately trying to get Prompto’s hand to keep moving without having to say anything, but Prompto didn’t budge. “You know where,” he growled, his voice breaking as Prompto began his ministrations anew on the nipple that was previously at the mercy of Prompto’s mouth. “Prompto please.”

Noctis felt rather than saw the grin form on Prompto’s face. “I was hoping for you to actually say what you needed, but I think this is fine for now.” He sucked a bruise on the same location he had kissed before and finally moved his hand below the band of Noctis’ briefs, pushing the material down just far enough to free Noctis’ cock from their confines. “God Noct, you should see what you look like right now.” He rolled the nipple between his fingers experimentally, taking in the way Noctis’ breath stuttered at the action.

Noctis couldn’t even muster words once Prompto grabbed his cock, his thumb trailing up the thick vein underneath. He moaned when Prompto thumbed at the head of his cock, the skilled digit smearing pre-cum across the head. He called his boyfriend’s name between moans when he could muster the brain power to focus on reality and not the pleasure that was smoldering in his belly. He’d never experienced this kind of pleasure before and he felt more than a little overwhelmed.

“You hanging in there buddy?”

Noctis frantically nodded his head, grinding his hips up to get Prompto to continue his ministrations. “M-more.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

In any other circumstance, Noctis would’ve scolded Prompto for calling him that, but in that moment he couldn’t stop the way his cock seemed to jump at the name.

Prompto released Noctis’ abused nipple and moved his hand down Noctis’ body. He made quick work of removing Noctis’ briefs from his body entirely and striped himself of his own briefs. Prompto’s hands were back on his body before he could make any noise of complaint.

Before getting back to lavishing Noctis’ body with attention, Prompto cupped Noctis’ face and made his boyfriend look at him. “How far do you want to go?”

Noctis blinked hazily up at him, his pleasured brain trying to process what it’d been asked. “I d-don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he answered.

Prompto nodded. “I almost lost it when you started moaning my name.”

Noctis whimpered at the thought. “Prompto please I need you to-“

Once again his speech was cut off as Prompto grabbed his cock again. He was expecting Prompto to continue where he left off. He wasn’t prepared for Prompto grabbing his own cock and maneuvering himself into a position where he was holding both of their cocks in one hand. His mouth dropped open, moans and whimpers being ripped out of him at the feel of Prompto’s cock against his own.

It felt incredible.

Noctis watched through hooded eyes as Prompto reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the lotion that was sitting beside the tissue box. His boyfriend squirted a decent amount in his hand, doing his best to smear it around before moving his lubricated hand to their cocks and switching places with the hand already holding them.

The wet slide of Prompto’s hand felt amazing and Noctis made sure he made enough sounds of approval to assure Prompto he was doing everything right.

“T-that’s it, Noct.” Prompto leaned his mouth closer to Noctis’. “God, I wish I had my camera to c-capture this.”

Noctis let out a drawn out moan at the very thought of the idea. He didn’t think that’d turn him on so much but it did.

Prompto grinned. “Seems you like that idea, Noct.” His hand picked up speed, tugging firmer at their cocks. “Maybe we can try that later.”

Noctis wasn’t even sure if he’d nodded or not, too caught up in the mind-numbing pleasure he was enjoying. He felt his arousal steadily rising higher and higher, his vision almost whiting out a few times when Prompto would twist his hand just-so. “P-Prompto I’m g-gonna-“

“G-go ahead, cum for me Noct.”

With a few more strokes he was tumbling over the edge, brokenly moaning his boyfriend’s name. Cum splattered against his chest and over Prompto’s hand. He whimpered at the overstimulation against his sensitive cock as Prompto stroked them a few more times before following Noctis into orgasmic bliss.

The two road out the aftershocks of their orgasms between lazy kisses and gentle strokes of hands against each other’s sweaty body. The heated atmosphere slowly simmered down to burning embers as the two came back to reality.

Noctis smiled. “That felt good.”

Prompto snorted. “I definitely got that impression.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just wanted to let you know.”

His boyfriend snickered, burying his face in Noctis’ hair. “So, good for our first time?”

“Absolutely.”

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faierius · 6 years

Text

In His Shoes (29. Memories of Joy)

Chapter Twenty (Once, There was Happiness)

Chapter Twenty-One (Intermission with Intent)

Chapter Twenty-Two (Of No Consequence)

Chapter Twenty-Three (Loss of Self)

Chapter Twenty-Four (Voices in the Dark)

Chapter Twenty-Five (Blood Frost)

Chapter Twenty-Six (Who We Are)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (Lost Souls)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (Misery and Violence)

Moving in the Void was a lot like swimming on land. Each motion was met with resistance and slowed considerably. A fair fight, this did not make.

Prompto reflected spears of ice, but also bounced his fair share off his arms and legs. Shallow slices bled and iced over, giving movement another layer of difficulty. Defending himself was hard enough but keeping Noctis safe was his priority. He could endure the wounds if it meant no more blood would be let from the man’s body.

Pushing himself, he slipped between Noctis and Eyoralin. Her sword struck his shield, bouncing off with a bright flash. Even if she wasn’t using her full strength, the attack made him stumble and fall to one knee. His grip faltered as a cold spike sank into his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, beads of sweat trickled down his face. Spinning, he swung the shield like a club and blindsided Timorea. A dull, comical bong rang out despite the shield being made of light instead of steel.

Disoriented, Timorea stumbled, clutching his head.

Noctis lashed out with the daggers, but barely scratched Eyoralin’s armor. He was weakened from his struggle against Timorea.

“Prom, I can’t do this alone,” he huffed, falling against the man’s back. “We’ve gotta work together to this; one on one isn’t working.”

Pushing back to support the sagging Noct’s weight, Prompto risked a glance over his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone. I asked Eyoralin to bring me here. I am prepared to die if it’ll keep you safe, Noct.”

A tightness settled in Noctis’ chest and tears burned his eyes. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll get out of this together, you dummy.”

“We have to help them, too,” Prompto continued, pretending the hitch in Noct’s voice wasn’t shaking his resolve.

“We will. I know better than anyone what it means to have your life in the hands of the Astrals. Do you hear that, Timorea? We will free you!” Noctis stood up straight and stepped toward the man.

“How?” Timorea spat, turning his daemon-stained face toward the prince. Fury marred his once handsome features. “You cannot kill the immortal!”

“I’m sure the Marshall would have something to say about that,” Prompto joked.

“I told you repeatedly there’s nothing you can do,” Eyoralin growled, swinging her sword weakly.

Prompto twisted, easily deflecting the attack.

“We can starve you,” Noctis answered simply, twirling his daggers and making a rapid strike against Timorea.

Barring his blackened teeth in a snarl, the man stepped back to avoid a second quick attack. “Starve us? With all the desolation between you two, I could live forever!”

“I think it’s time we turn the tables, Prompto. Tell him how life has moments that are not horrible and soul-crushing. Tell him we have things to live for. People to live for!” Noctis moved closer to Timorea. With each step, an inner glow lit the man up, radiating from him in pure power. “Tell him how even he, long ago, had things to live for. The Astrals do not control your emotions, did not strip away your humanity. You did that. You only have yourself to blame for your fate, Timorea.”

Warmth pooled in Prompto’s chest as Noctis spoke, the light growing in him as well. He watched Noctis with wide eyes and he looked somehow older. More regal. More mature.

“What your sister showed me may have only been one of your lives, but I saw you happy. Saw you both happy. In love with two amazing people,” Prompto added to Noctis’ speech, lowering his shield and approaching Eyoralin. “I know Tuudoh isn’t your fault. But you don’t have to wallow in this hatred.”

“What do you know, brat?” growled Timorea, clenching his fists. Blood leeched from Prompto’s skin, icing over as it did. “Our father infected us, and our mother condoned it! They knew this would happen, yet they still conceived us. But did they take responsibility? No! They shunned us off to strangers repeatedly so we would fear our gifts and make the same mistakes over and over and over until we finally succumbed to the Scourge! We were trapped in that monstrosity until you came along. Your dissonance rang clear in Tuudoh and woke our souls.”

Noctis scoffed. “Were you both so desperate for attention your daemon showed up because of a little spat? That’s pretty pathetic.”

“Sustenance, you idiot! I am not about to let my sister die, even if it means hunting for petty reasons!”

Eyoralin gasped, her good eye finding Timorea.

The words sank in and the blackness of Timorea’s eyes faded. Human eyes, an odd white-blue, now watched Noctis and Prompto.

“A daemon that cares? That’s a new one,” Noctis said, boredom dripping from his voice.

Shivering and in pain, Prompto’s legs quaked with the effort to hold him up. He had no idea Noctis was capable of this sort of attitude-driven, bluffing, negotiation. It was almost like reverse psychology.

“Silence!” With a wide sweep of his hand, a wall of ice blasted into the men, shoving them backward.

Prompto caught Noctis, toppling under his weight. The light faded drastically as his posturing was derailed.

“Your magic, sweet and heady, magnified your anger and called us, Noctis Lucis Caelum. This is your fault. You called to us, and now you will pay the price!” Another wave of his hand and Noctis was thrown away from Prompto. Timorea grabbed the blond, hauling him upright by his hair. He turned to his sister, eyes the purest black once again.

“Sister dearest, won’t you do me the honor of killing your little pet? And don’t think I don’t know whose soul resides in this freckled pup.”

The hole in Eyoralin’s chest oozed thick black globs at the suggestion, almost like her missing heart was crying. Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, she lifted her weapon. Red tears tracked down her cheeks and she shifted her footing. Closing her eyes, she thrust the blade forward.

A piercing, broken scream filled the Void.

The blood sword tore open Noctis’ side as he put himself in the path of death, yet still pierced Prompto.

The world froze for a heartbeat before a power, blinding light exploded from the men. The Void turned white for the first time in eternity.

Timorea and Eyoralin were thrown backward by the shockwave. Noctis and Prompto crumbled into a heap. Everything was still and silent.

Fighting through his pain, Noctis struggled to his knees. Blood soaked his side, his vision blurred and pulsed around the edges, his limbs were weak and heavy. Beneath him, Prompto lay prone, his wound bubbling with dark blood each time he took a labored breath. Thankfully the sword was moved by Noctis’ intervention and hadn’t hit anything vital, just muscle and fat, but he was still losing a lot of blood.

Shaking like a leaf, Noctis pressed his hands over the wound and lifted his head to find Timorea and Eyoralin. To either side of where he and Prompto lay, they swayed to their feet, thick black smoke rising off their bodies.

Prompto coughed, his face contorting in pain. Periwinkle eyes fluttered open and he met Noctis’ panicked gaze.

“So we’re really doing this, hey?” he wheezed. “Killing them with kindness?”

“Shut up, you idiot. Don’t waste your strength making stupid jokes,” Noctis scolded, tears turning his eyes watery.

Prompto chuckled, weak and airy. “Y’know pal, if this is where it all ends for me, I don’t have any regrets.”

“I said shut up! You aren’t skipping out on me that easy, you hear? I’m not done with you, dammit! If you leave me all alone, who’s gonna help me save the world?” Hot tears spilled down Noctis’ cheeks to fall on Prompto’s freckled skin.

Lifting a trembling hand, Prompto cupped the side of Noctis’ face and searched his eyes. “Dude, no sadness, remember? Be happy, okay? That’s how we end this. With good memories.”

Midnight eyes grew wide as a soft white glow haloed the blond mess of Prompto’s hair. As the man smiled, the glow grew, soon encircling his entire body.

“What are you doing?” Noctis hissed, gaze flicking toward their enemy as Prompto’s hand slid to his chest.

“They had lovers once. They were happy. I want to remind them what that was like. Everyone can use a little light in the darkness.”

“H-hey! Don’t try to sit up!”

Pushing away the man’s concern, Prompto gripped his side and sat up. Breathing hard, he looked from Noctis to Eyoralin to Timorea.

“I’m not normally big on exhibitionism, but I think I’ll make an exception this once,” the man muttered. “Hey! You two pay attention!” he called, drawing the weakened twins’ gaze.

Noctis could only watch, dumbfounded.

“Life may have dealt us shit cards, but when you’ve got family or friends who love you, things seem that much better, right? You guys feed on misery, but none of my misery matters when I’m with him. A single kiss can make my heart swell to bursting, and since you brought us here, I think we should be the ones to teach you pain isn’t the only thing in life.”

“What are you blathering about?” Timorea wheezed, taking a staggering step toward them.

Prompto chuckled, but it turned into a cough and he winced. “Y’know, at this point I have no idea. But if I’m gonna die, I’m gonna give Noct one last kiss. And I’m gonna make it a damn good one!”

Reaching out, Prompto grabbed a fistful of Noctis’ shirt and yanked him forward. They crashed together, lips on lips, eyes falling shut and head spreading through their bodies. A thousand memories of a thousand kisses raced through their minds, bringing with them all the love and joy they felt in those moments. It lit a fire in them, the light spilling from their bodies. They shone brightly, lost souls in their own right, coming together to light the way for others.

When they parted, Prompto bumped his forehead against Noctis’ and giggled.

“Wow,” breathed Noctis.

Tearing their eyes away from one another, the men squinted into the bright white light surrounding them. Shapes of people stood in a circle, shielding them from the twins. Some distinguishable, some a little hazy, all who had brought them happiness in their lives. Memories of joy.

Inside the circle, standing close to Noctis and Prompto and shining brighter than all the others, were Gladio and Ignis.

“Hey, Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we got this.”

They were losing blood, barely able to move, trapped in a world of daemons, but Noct agreed.

“Yeah. We got this.”

#writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ffxv #body swap #daemons #ffxv ocs #plot-driven #in his shoes #noctis #prompto #promptis #kisses #character injury #faierius writes

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aftgficlibrary · 6 years

Text

Soulmates

Apparently it was meant to be (Note: this post was long so it for now only includes completed fics. Will be updated when others are completed)

last updated: 31 January 2019

Coming Home by wesawbears (T | 1,235 | 1/1)

Kevin, Jean, and Jeremy are all born with two soulmate marks instead of one. It takes them a while to find each other.

Falls by nekojita for ApprenticedMagician (M | 7,002 | 1/1)

Nathaniel ends up at Edgar Allan/the Nest after all, and what helps him through everything (Tetsuji's abusive demands, RIKO, being pushed to his limits to be the best) is often the dreams he has of the young French boy whose name is embellished on his wrist - Jean. The boy whom his mother told him to never mention to anyone, especially his father.

So what happens when that boy ends up at Evermore one day?

A soul mate/Neil/Jean fic for apprenticedmagician on Tumblr for ATFG_Exchange's winter gift exchange.

Your Face by lanalua (T | 1,464 | 1/1)

Each of Andrew's drawings of his soulmate is different: different haircut, hair color, eye color... That can't be good.

this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by giucorreias (Not Rated | 483 | 1/1)

it's the small details

I felt your pain when you were gone byElfo98 (G | 3,533 | 1/1)

Another Soulmate AU where Neil and Andrew can feel each other's pain and how the Foxes find out.

Or: my take on the Baltimore incident because I can't seem to get enough of it.

Paint Splatter Freckles and Godly Go Fishby Issylang for quensty (G | 1,115 | 1/1)

"When Jean was younger, much younger, he would sit in his mother’s lap while she traced the sun on his left shoulder blade and sang love songs in soft French. He would stare at the black heart on her wrist, the one that perfectly matched his father’s, and imagine the little girl that shared his sun. When Jeremy was very little his mom and dad would corral him and his older sister into the living room after dinner. With a child in each lap, they would recount the history of soulmates; how Zeus, in fear of their power, had split the people of earth in half, and they were destined to spend the rest of their lives in search for their other half. How, in a moment of kindness, Zeus had marked the pairs, so that they could follow their symbol to their other half." Just a cute, short Jerejean Soul mate au.

Marked by beautifulmagick (G | 1,164 | 1/1)

Neil Josten's soulmate mark is on his shoulder. Andrew can never forget that.

Empty Kiss by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) for ApprenticedMagician (M | 1,987 | 1/1)

Based on a Tumblr prompt for an empty kiss.

met you in the dark (you lit me up) byharrytomlinsonwhoops (M | 3,085 | 1/1)

it starts like this:

the elevator doors are closing, and aaron, after seeing one of the cheerleaders inside, doesn't bother running for it.

she holds the door for him anyway. she's got curly hair, and dark brown skin. her eyes are a bright green that he doesn't expect when she stares down at him. she's half a head taller, but he finds that he doesn't mind looking up to her.

"hello," she says, her eyes lighting up, and aaron thinks: oh. oh no.

a memory unrepressed by orphan_account (T | 7,387 | 1/1)

“So, what, you think I’m real, you’re real? That we’ve somehow… I don’t know, astral projected to this place?”

“I don’t know what I think,” Thea said slowly, a strain on her voice as if she hated to admit it.

“Well, the sun is– Fuck.”

“What?” Thea looked around as well, then froze.

There was no sun. There were no clouds. No shadows. It was indisputably light out, as if it were day, but the light seemed to have no source.

Groaning, Dan buried her face in her hands. “What is this, I don’t like it.”

let me love the pain you're going through by MadHatterNO7 (T | 1,526 | 1/1)

Neil remembers his mother saying, "Soulmates don’t exist. They aren’t real. They are a burden that would get you killed."

Neil supposes he knows why.

His mother's soulmate was never his father.

Watermark by fairietailed (T | 4,689 | 1/1)

He hops into the kitchen on one foot, catching his mother before she carries the bowl of peas she’s holding into the dining room.

“Jeremy?” Her eyebrows pull together in concern at the look on his face. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he says, sticking out his foot. “I think it’s my soul mate?”

In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and Jeremy's skin is a myriad of colored stains.

What are you scared of? by shipsgalore (T | 1,704 | 1/1)

“I couldn’t -- you weren’t supposed to be real. I didn’t think that I would ever have somebody love me, Jeremy. I’m just broken. I’m broken and you can’t love something that’s broken.” He wants to take his hand out of Jeremy’s, to end this entire discussion, but the burning of his nerve endings is welcoming. He wants to feel this every day of his life.

hard to find by jaylocked (M | 3,199 | 1/1)

Jean has learned to hate the letters on his ribs.

He can remember a time before, back when he still had the sky above him and his future before him, when the letters fueled his insatiable, childish imagination. But then he lost the sky, lost his future, lost his language, and the letters changed.

accept yourself by jaylocked (T | 6,498 | 1/1)

In which Jeremy Knox tries to figure out what soulmates mean in a world of divorced parents, sappy best friends, Exy, and scowling, abused backliners.

My Own by hazelNuts (T | 728 | 1/1)

Andrew doesn't believe in soulmates, so what's the point of having a soulmate mark?

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine by A_Nobelmonster (Not Rated | 839 | 1/1)

Prompt: Andrew and Aaron are platonic soulmates that can feel each others pain.

Pain by ke_xia (M | 810 | /1)

There’d been a point once, when Andrew was a boy, that he’d been told stories of soulmates and had had grand visions of finding his own. Sharing a soul with one person who could feel your pain and whose pain you felt in return- now that felt like true love. And a soulmate had to love you; that was their entire reason for existing. Not like his mom or his dad, whoever they were, nor any number of the foster parents he’d gone through, nor any of the “brothers” and “sisters” he’d had throughout his few years in the system. No, none of them had ever loved him, but there was someone out there, someone who did even though they didn’t even know him yet.

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence /Rape/Non-Con

Exactly by jostenminyard (onceuponahundred) (G | 783 | 1/1)

A soulmate au where all the foxes (minus Nicky). But Neil broke his because its dangerous to love. Andrew broke his because fuck love. Aaron broke his because Andrew made him as part of the promise. Dan broke hers because of the man hating thing. Matt's broke on accident while he was high. Riko forced Kevin to break his. Renee broke hers in the gang. Allison broke hers to piss off her parents and the "I chose this one" thing. Seth broke his because he wasn't gonna let a clock decide his life.

a new kind of grace by starfleetbanana (T | 1,997 | 1/1)

'“You got it wrong, Josten. She keeps me on a leash” She said and left Neil to his own very dramatic and tragic existence.

Allison was fearless and, even though Renee had a soft spot for her foxes, she was deadly and sharp-edged. They fit together like a Swiss knife next to a gun'.

Soulmates AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop seeing colours when they die.

we're here to see the colour grey bystarfleetbanana (E | 2,143 | 1/1)

Neil had grown up sure he was the kind of person who’d never get to see in colour. There were people who spent their entire lives without knowing what colour was like, and he’d already accepted a life on the run wouldn’t give him a chance to even figure out who had made his entire world change.

Soulmates AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop seeing colour when their soulmates die.

when the world turns grey bystarfleetbanana (G | 1,972 | 1/1)

Allison had never seen colour in her life until she'd stepped into the Foxhole Court. But then Seth Gordon died. He’d died and she’d kept dancing in the middle of the dance floor with one of his friends while the colourful lights swirled around them. She’d drunk a blue cocktail and smeared her dark red lipstick on a napkin.

Soulmate AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop when their soulmates die.

with the lights on by starfleetbanana (T | 1,801 | 1/1)

'Medical professionals classify hysterical blindness as “conversion disorder,” a condition that causes you to show psychological stress in a physical manner. While there are many causes of this disorder, most of them point to some type of anxiety or other psychological trauma that triggers this temporary blindness'

'When the haze went away he tried to focus his vision on something more familiar. Everything that surrounded him was a deep shade of black that threatened to swallow him up, and it didn’t take him long to notice he was at Castle Evermore.'

Part of the Soulmates AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate and stop seeing colours when they die.

your crown of thorns holds roses by quensty (T | 4,444 | 1/1)

Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard sends him flying breathless to the ground, Neil's gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spinal cord in terrifying, heavy bold.

All in all, he isn’t thrilled about the situation this puts him in, but, based off the negative connotation, it isn’t one-sided either. On the bright side, at least this means his soulmate doesn’t harbor any grandeur delusions about him.

Like fields of poppies by A_Nobelmonster (M | 3,340 | 1/1)

Soul mate au . Andrew has always had more dark soul marks than most adults see in their life. He's used to it. Used to a life based on survival . And then he turns fifteen, a red dot appears. the color of a romantic soul mate. Suddenly the thought of living for the person that gave him his mark is the only thing keeping him alive. Just one chance to know the poor fucker meant for him. As usual It's more than he bargains for.

/Rape/Non-Con /Underage /Self-Harm

To die by your side would be such a heavenly way to go by A_Nobelmonster (T | 494 | 1/1)

Short drabble about the beautiful pain of a fictional person made real by his friends love.

/Major Character Death

The Story of My (Loveless) Life byconstellationsofsentences (G | 3,281 | 4/4)

If there's one thing Jean hates more than Riko and the rest of the Ravens, it's his soulmate and their inability to listen to anything but Taylor Swift. Jean thinks his head's going to explode.

starring Jeremy and his basic white girl music.

when the lights go out by flybbfly (T | 1,705 | 1/1)

Neil wakes up gasping in a bed next to Andrew, unsure if in this lifetime they love or hate each other, are meant to murder or save, and Andrew rolls over and presses closer to Neil in his sleep. His armbands, some form of them omnipresent in every lifetime, are poking out from beneath a pillow.

one of many by Saul (T | 2,859 | 1/1)

They first meet in their dreams.

It isn't as miraculous or smooth a transition as the How To Be Fated: A Guide on Soulmates made it out to be.

The mirrors of our skin. by IceBreeze (T | 862 | 1/1)

When night falls, they remind themselves of who they are.

Ask the Messenger by Metis_Ink (T | 32,614 | 5/5)

Jeremy Knox and the soulmate.

Guest starring: Exy, a transfer student, generalized anxiety, older sisters, drunk lesbians, bread, cake, a shed, the beach, the absence of Hennessy, Star Wars, Renee Walker, self-taught smooth talking, gratuitous French, No. 1 Trojans fan Kevin Day, relationship drama, general drama, the power of Friendship, questions, answers, team spirit!, and, of course, romance.

Bleed for you. by IceBreeze (T | 860 | 1/1)

When you meet your soulmate, you get a nosebleed. It makes every meeting messy and leaves little room for subtlety.

in this world, there's no such thing as soulmates by kwritten for growlery (G | 801 | 1/1)

for the prompt: what disasters we live

Now I'm Covered in the Colors by alaynes (T | 9,752 | 6/6)

Nathaniel Wesninski is six years old when his first soulmate mark comes in.

A name was just a name until you said it by maeusetod (Not Rated | 5,106 | 1/1)

Andrew Minyard did not believe in fate, but for a moment it seemed fate did believe in him.

Colours by Q_Jem_Bee (T | 2685 | 1/1)

Colours were splashed across your skin at another being's touch: They were the colour of your soul.Neil's was blue, but no one knew that. No one was going to know.

Careful Hands by fairietailed ( M | 13,797 | 4/4)

“You’ll probably never meet them,” his mother said one day at a diner in Texas. It caught him off guard.

“What?”

“You’ll probably never meet them,” she repeated, nodding in the direction of the lilac bruise splashed across his forearm. “Your soulmate. You’ll most likely never live that long.”

“I know,” he said, and hoped that she believed him.

–

In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and both Neil and Andrew paint each other like a canvas.

/Violence

Crystal Clear by exactly13percent (superagentwolf) ( T | 3,114 | 1/1)

Your crystal is your heart and soul, manifested. You must keep it safe. Neil and Andrew don’t have typical crystals. For one, they aren’t whole. They’re little pieces, broken by years of wrong. But Kevin’s magic shop brings them together, and they figure maybe broken doesn’t mean destroyed.

Marked by justdk ( T | 2,488 | 1/1)

Neil Josten does not believe in soulmates

Empty Kiss (Filling the Void Remix) by Dancyon ( T | 1,604 | 1/1)

Neil sometimes wonders where it all went wrong. (In the quiet spaces between his breath and Andrew’s, he already knows.)

Soulmate au where Neil should really know better.

/Violence

Life After the Fire (The “Like Fields of Poppies” Remix) by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) for A_Nobelmonster ( T | 2,542 | 1/1)

very first touch leaves a mark, a colour on another’s skin, marks of love or hate, family or anger, friendship or lust. Neil is the boy without colours on his skin, with scars instead of marks. All he wants is to leave his mark, to be real, to be remembered.

/Violence

written in the stars by cloudtalking ( T | 2,095 | 1/1)

this is the boy that turned andrew’s world from night to day. the boy that turned shades of gray to blinding colors, and never seemed to notice nor care.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX!!!!

paint my skin in painful truths by Dancyon ( Not Rated | 1,115 | 1/1)

a world where every time someone touches you, they leave a tiny tattoo that represents you and them and your future. Neil doesn’t remember a lot of good touches, and he doesn’t have a lot of happy tattoos, but with Andrew by his side he thinks he might like himself a little bit more.

This is mostly fluff with some angst, because this is still me.

Black and White until Tonight by booksareourlove for queenofseventeen ( T | 508 | 1/1)

His mother told him colours weren’t real. His mother told him she had never seen the colours of the sky. His mother told him that they were broken. People like them weren’t meant for something as delicate as colours. As soulmates. Colours weren’t real but he would still like to imagine the colours of the sky.

The world is black and white until you meet your soulmate. For some, seeing colour is not like jumping into water, but rather walking through mist until you realise it’s actually raining and your clothes are soaked.

stay as long as you need. by lolainslackss ( T | 2,995 | 1/1)

The soulmate timer counts down to your soulmate’s death. Apparently, Andrew’s soulmate doesn’t have long to live.

in pieces by archieknight ( G | 6,146 | 1/1)

Was it this difficult for everyone, or were they all just so broken that their pieces couldn’t fit the way destiny wanted anymore?

paint my body gold by cave_canem (T | 12,050 | 1/1)

That winter, Jean comes close to his soulmate for the first time in years. He knows this because his side is burning where the mark is branded in his skin. It’s pain unlike anything he’s ever felt: pulsing with his heartbeat and glowing through the skin; almost soft with something like a forgotten childhood memory.

never an empty room by cloudtalking (T | 6,510 | 1/1)

for @kevinyard: a trans neil kandreil soulmate au

soulmate (noun): a person or persons with whom one shares a soul with.

visit (noun): 1. an act of going or coming to see a person or place socially, as a tourist, or for some other purpose. 2. when a soul is stretched thin and snaps closed, causing one to see and be seen by their soulmate

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

A Home, for the Holidays by zen_fox (M | 3,321 | 1/1)

Three Christmases, in the lives of three soulmates.

good game by unrain (T | 1,996 | 1/1)

I don’t like you, but I can’t deny that your shot was a game winner sprawls around Kevin’s throat.

Neil’s words are a fucking joke in comparison. It’s not quite the death sentence that is a simple hi or a hello—which is a soulmark that’s kind of pathetically tragic to have in this day and age, because it just makes everything a trillion times more difficult and is basically the equivalent of your soulmate kissing you goodbye and saying see you never. But Neil’s words are pretty damn close to being that pathetically tragic. If only his soulmate wasn’t so unimaginative and dull.

Speak easy to me by The_time_it_takes (Not Rated | 3,370 | 1/1)

between hoping and believing by cryptidkidprem (T | 47,332 | 16/16)

Jean convinced himself a long time ago that he doesn't have a soulmate. Or maybe he just wants to believe that. Things would be easier if he was destined to be alone. It will at least hurt less when he inevitably winds up that way anyway.

And then there's Jeremy, who's been dreaming of meeting his match for years. For some reason, Jeremy seems determined to convince Jean that sometimes he might actually be able to have the things he hopes for, and that soulmate or no, Jean Moreau has people who will stick with him.

You're a flashlight in a dark room by trubenblack (Not Rated | 1,712 | 1/1)

The foxes in a world where everyone has their soulmates name written on them in their soulmates handwriting and the stories of how each of them dealt with them.

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shadowsong26x · 6 years

Text

TLJ Reaction Post!

Putting everything behind a cut just in case, to avoid spoilers. Also, any TLJ-related posts I either write or reblog will be tagged as listed here.

Feel free to reply/reblog/ask/whatever if you want to discuss!

So, that was an experience.

First, quick reaction--while I was watching it, it was overall engaging/good. I had some issues even in the moment, but most of what I’m going to write up here was of the fridge logic variety?

Things I liked:

- Leia getting a STRAIGHT-UP ACTUAL JEDI MOMENT. Yes, I am talking about her flying through space like Mary Poppins and yes it was ridiculous but again it was a Jedi Moment sooooooooo there it is.

- All of the combat scenes/lightsaber duels in particular were really well put together. The throne room duel (which I’ll talk about that whole scene in some detail later), Finn vs. Phasma, Astral Projection Luke vs Kylo Ren (side note: I had seen a poster or clip or something before this, and I was Very Annoyed that Luke’s lightsaber was blue pretty much for the same reason I get irrationally irritated when Padme is tagged/drawn in the Gothic Peacock dress and the fact that elbows don’t grow back oh my god--minor continuity details that make a difference but don’t really matter in the long run; but the fact that Luke chose to project himself with the Heirloom Lightsaber(tm) that blew up ten minutes ago made that make sense and was delightful in hindsight) the space combat--the red dust on Crait, though, so cool the way it did visual things.

- Pretty much everything to do with Finn and Rose’s plotline (except I was sad that there was no Lando cameo at Canto Bight)

- Most of the stuff with Amilyn I liked a lot too. Especially her flipping badass Last Stand. (I also liked the fact that the bulk of high command was women, and they made a point of showing off all the lady piliots)

- Luke and Leia’s reunion moment made me bawl in a very good way. (Side note: I’m pretty sure she knew all along he was Astral Projection Luke. In part because how else could he have gotten there, in part because, as my friend who I went to see it with pointed out, he projected himself exactly as he would have been the last time she saw him. Also the much shorter and darker hair which I feel is very impractical to manage in an X-wing cockpit)

- That little kid on Canto Bight. Oh, that little kid on Canto Bight, who reminded me so much of TPM!Anakin I can’t even. (There’s a whole potential Thing here, that my friend pointed out to me, re: Light/Dark/Balance a la Daughter/Son/Father from Mortis where we might be going for Kylo as Dark, Rey as Balance, Tiny as Light? I’m not sure if I actually want the story to go there or not but it’s at least interesting as a vague concept!)

- I love Poe. Just...Poe was delightful in this film, as he figures out exactly how Being In Command works, his relationship with Leia, his back-and-forth with Amilyn...

- I liked that the bridge/whatever between Rey and Kylo was clearly set up to parallel Luke and Leia, rather than anything romantic--to the point where Luke and Leia had a Twin Moment that then immediately cut to one of the shared dreams and that can’t have been an accident.

- There was a lot of really great dialogue in this film. Just in general. “Do you think you got him.” “I don’t think they like me very much.”/”I can’t imagine why.” “What are you looking at me for? Follow him!” Leia and Amilyn’s goodbye (which, side note--I read the Leia novel, and I definitely thought she and Amilyn had more chemistry than she and Kier did, also there’s a...something percolating in the back of my brain about Kier and Lando and the similar choices they made when their people were in danger and they felt their backs were against the wall, and what that might mean in terms of added context for Leia’s choices/actions in ESB, but that is a topic for a different post)

- While this was not the Force Ghost(s) I was looking for, I enjoyed Yoda’s appearance a whole heck of a lot.

- Rey and Poe finally actually met! And it was a very nice meeting!

- The fact that, once again, the last intelligible dialogue in the film went to Leia (because Tiny was speaking in another language)

Things I am neutral about but I feel bear mentioning:

- The reveal(?) about Rey’s parentage--I’m not sure whether or not Kylo Ren was lying, but I’m honestly okay with it either way. I mean, I’ve been on team Rey Kenobi, so to speak, from the beginning [partly because I think it makes a more interesting narrative than Rey Skywalker; partly because Obi-Wan’s line of descent, if he has one (and, whether it comes from Korkie and Satine or not, I think it could be credibly written that he does)...it makes much more sense that it would be lost the way Rey’s backstory establishes than either of Luke or Leia’s children being lost. And the potential alternatives (i.e., Shmi having had a child before Anakin and they were sold separately or something, or Anakin’s DNA being used to sire another child because Reasons, would require a lot more setup than we’ve got); also I kind of like the idea of Finn Skywalker though that ship has probably sailed]. Where was I...anyway, while I prefer that story, I don’t actually dislike any of the potential theories (except the reincarnation one). And Rey Nobody (I think is what it was called?) has its own appeal, definitely. So...I guess my reaction to that is a nonreaction? Especially since I can’t make up my mind whether or not it’s true...

- I wasn’t super invested in any shipping in this trilogy, but honestly as far as I’m concerned we now have a third possible endgame pairing for Finn and I like all three. (I’d rather not discuss this particular point in overmuch detail, because as I said I’m not super invested in any ST ships and I know a lot of people are and I’d rather not get argued at on the subject).

- I have no idea how I feel about the Heirloom Lightsaber(tm) being destroyed? But the crystal seemed to be intact sooooooo we’ll see.

- Snoke’s ridiculous golden bathrobe???????

Things I liked less:

- I’m not thrilled with how Luke was written. Like...I can make it make sense. I can draw the roadmap in my brain of how we got from the Luke I know and love to the Luke we saw in this movie (including in the flashback) but it takes a lot of backhacking, so to speak. Honestly, if I ever get this far in a canon-aligned fic timeline, I would definitely go in a different direction (frex, if Masks ever comes back off hiatus and I get to Martyrs, which is the third part of that AU and is set in this timeframe, it would no longer be an In Spite Of A Nail AU from here).

(This sort of ties into...look, if I was going to assign a cardinal narrative sin to each of the trilogies (looking only at how the story is structured here), the PT has pacing issues, the OT was made up as it went along and it shows in several points; but the ST? The ST relies way too much on It’s All There In The Manual. I’ve read some of the Manual, but not all of it, because I mostly hang out in the PT corner of the fandom, but it was an issue in TFA and it was an issue again in TLJ. Amilyn and Leia, I think, suffered from this the most, but Luke’s headspace probably did, too.)

- I’m not super thrilled with the fact that we got introduced to a lot of interesting new characters, and almost all of them just...died. And I kept looking for familiar faces from TFA in the background of the Resistance and...yeah, they weren’t there.

- This is...this is maybe not going to come off as super articulate when I try to explain myself, but it actually bothers me a lot. And that’s that...there’s...there’s no...

Look. To me, above all things, Star Wars is about Redemption. It is about finding the spark of light in the darkness, and fanning it into a flame. And I say this even as someone who primarily hangs out in the PT part of fandom, which is in some ways structured as the opposite (i.e., find the speck of darkness in the light and feed it until it consumes all). Because it’s still there at the end. We still have that spark--in the twins, and in their guardians--and we are nurturing it until it is ready to burst into a proper flame and it also set up Anakin’s motivations in a way that led to/added to the credibility/impact of the eventual redemption arc. (Like I said, I’m not sure I can articulate this well, but it’s a Thing, okay?) And, yes, I get that the ST is coming at this find-the-light-in-the-dark theme from a different angle which is fine, I guess, I just...I just...

There is no antagonist (who has been at all developed) who is redeemable at this point.

Like--I didn’t really care about Kylo Ren as Kylo Ren. I cared about his (potential and now thwarted) redemption arc because see above about how that’s what Star Wars is to me. And where we left off at the end of TFA, he could still credibly be redeemed. And now, even without all the explicit ROTJ parallels (up to and including straight-up quoted dialogue), that door is closed. A redemption arc for him from here would not be credible.

And no one else in the First Order is developed enough for it, except maybe Hux, who also has credibility issues (to draw a comparison, that would be like trying to write a redemption arc for Tarkin, aka essentially impossible without an AU breakpoint when he was like twelve or younger at which point it’s not a redemption arc it’s a completely different story.) Phasma (assuming she isn’t actually dead, which I think she’s not but ehhh she might be) isn’t developed enough. No one else in the First Order who’s still alive has an on-screen not-All-There-In-The-Manual name, so it wouldn’t have the necessary emotional/narrative payoff.

And that’s...that’s...I don’t like it. I really don’t like it. I mean...it actually weirdly bothers me less than I thought it would, when I was trying to talk about this a year or so ago? I have no idea why, because like I thought that would be something that would make me completely break away at least from the ST era/corner of the fandom. And yet it’s not. But it’s still...Star Wars has always sold itself as straight up Good Vs Evil, but has had that...coming home. Or something? Like I said, not sure I’m too articulate about it. But I don’t like that this happened the way it did.

And also, just...like, think about what it would have been if they had just gone ahead and played the ROTJ aspects straight. If Ben Solo had come home, the way Anakin Skywalker did--without dying. We would get the story we never got with Vaderkin, of clawing his way back and atoning and making amends. We barely even got it with Ventress (side note: there’s a Thing in the back of my head that I’m not sure I can get out in any articulate way about the parallels between Anakin and Ventress because man.) (Also I think there might be a plot like this in Rebels, but I haven’t seen it yet so IDK for sure.)

Sigh. I don’t know. I think we’re going to get an interesting story about the way things did go, which may be part of why I’m less upset than I thought I would be. But I am upset.

(Side note: I do think that Snoke’s death was really well-put-together/well-played. I genuinely didn’t see it coming until the Heirloom Lightsaber started turning. Like...I pretty much figured that it wasn’t going to go how either Rey or Kylo saw it, because (even before Snoke said he made the bridge between them) I pretty much figured they’d both seen what they wanted to see/their ideal ending for the confrontation, so I knew it would be some kind of third option, but I did not expect the one we got and the way it was presented/approached was extremely effective; I just have serious, serious issues with where it went from there).

- I wish there had been more Leia. And Maz. And Phasma.

- I wish it had done more to expand on/develop the relationships/answer the questions/etc. established by TFA. In some ways, it feels more like “this is a series of events that happened in the wake of that,” rather than a continuation? This was mostly a problem with Poe’s storyline--Rey’s did okay at that, though if the backstory reveal was true it was a little disappointingly presented and if it’s not it didn’t resolve enough; and Finn’s did reasonably well. (Also, there were supposed to be Knights of Ren???? Were these the students that Kylo Ren left with after burning Luke’s Temple? What happened to them? Were those the people he and Rey killed in the throne room?????)

- On a much pettier note--what the fuck even was up with the timeline???? HOW SHORT ARE THE DAYS ON AHCH-TO? WHAT ABOUT FREAKING TRAVEL TIME--FTL TRAVEL IN THIS UNIVERSE IS NOT INSTANTANEOUS AND THAT IS EXPLICITLY REFERENCED IN THIS VERY FILM. Congratulations, Star Wars, you now have a film with a timeline that makes even less sense than ESB. [ROTS doesn’t, either, although that one’s more a question of ‘exactly how long is it between the Invisible Hand and Utapau because I don’t buy the ‘less than two weeks’ from the novel, but beyond that it could be anywhere from like a month to like three or four...but that makes sense, it’s just unclear.)

And, because I like to end on a positive note--there’s a lot I do genuinely enjoy/like/even love about this movie. Is it my favorite? Probably not; I don’t know exactly where I’d rank it, but probably in the Bottom Tier (I have sort of three tiers in terms of ‘Which Of These Puppies Licking My Face Am I Most Likely To Take Home If I Can Only Have One’ and they fluctuate a fair amount other than ESB, AOTC, and ROTS are consistently in the top tier). But there’s enough about it that I liked that I’m going to see it again, and while the things I disliked were for the most part serious issues, they weren’t enough to make me want to avoid the film itself. I’m hoping the next movie answers some more things, I’m hoping Phasma and Baby Canto Bight Jedi come back, I’m looking forward to Force Ghost Luke (and maybe the others fingers crossed).

#spoilers #sw spoilers #star wars spoilers #tlj spoilers

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mundieoriley · 6 years

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An Open Doorway | Stephen Strange x Oc (Part Four)

Summary: Stephen Strange came to Kamar-Taj to repair his hands and return to his old life as a world renowned surgeon. Hayden Jones came to Kamar-Taj to escape her past and the abuse she faced for simply being as she was; a mutant.

When these two radically different individuals meet, an unlikely friendship is formed. But as feelings deepen and Kaecilius threatens everything Kamar-Taj stands for, Hayden Jones and Stephen Strange must stand even more firmly together to defeat Kaecilius and save the world.

Masterlist is linked on my profile page.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! So, I know I said before this would only be a four or five part story, but it's turning out to be longer than I thought. Whoopsie doopsie.

Four: All Encompassing

In the beats of silence that follow, Hayden approaches Stephen. “So, I guess this makes us even, right?” When he doesn't respond, she reaches out and touches his shoulder. Even though he’s just an Astral Projection, Hayden can feel the tension beneath her fingers. “Stephen?”

He turns around, shaking her hand from his shoulder. “Even? After that stunt you pulled?” he says, voice harsh as he scowls down at her, tight lipped. “Do you have some sort of pathological need to put yourself at risk?”

Hayden takes a step back, gaping at Strange, hands clenched at her sides. “What is your problem-”

He takes a half step closer. “You’re dying-”

“So, what, Stephen?” Hayden straightens up, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s what people do.” She jabs a finger at the operating table, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry I’d rather be on that table instead of you, since me saving your ass is obviously a huge nuisance for you!”

Stephen face is beginning to turn red. “Oh, please. If anything, I’ve been nothing but a nuisance to you right? So, why would you do that?”

Hayden’s voice rises to a shout. “Because I can’t lose you too!”

She turns away from him, fighting down the sudden spike of emotion and the tears stinging the back of her eyes. The night she mutated rises with a vengeance in her mind and she clenches her fists hard enough to cause pain. That forces the memory away, along with the tears.

There’s another long moment of silence, then Stephen places a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Hayden, I’m-”

“What, sorry?” She lets out a small bitter laugh.

His hand tightens on her shoulder and when he speaks, his voice is soft, all traces of his earlier anger, gone. “Did it ever occur to you that I actually care about you?”

Hayden feels his words like an electrical shock that leaves behind hope and warm feelings instead of pain and tingling.

But a long piercing sound from the heart monitor hooked to Hayden’s physical body cuts through the room and sends a jolt of a completely different kind through her Astral form. She had totally forgotten about Christine and the urgency of her physical predicament

Stephen shoves her toward the table roughly. “Get back in your body, now!”

Hayden doesn’t need to be told twice. She darts over to the operating table and closes her eyes, blackness once again overtaking her.

Hayden jerks back into reality with a gasp. She looks around wildly, the bright lights blinding her for a moment.

A warm and familiar tremulous hand takes hers. “Hayden, everything’s alright. You’re back.”

The gesture and Stephen’s voice grounds her, calming her rapidly beating heart. She relaxes back on the table, blinking the glare out of her eyes. The first thing she sees is Stephen leaning over her, his brow creased and lips turned down in a frown. Next, she sees Dr. Palmer setting a defibrillator aside.

Hayden looks back at Stephen, the memories of her Astral experience returning to her. “My heart stopped.” Stephen’s hand tightens around hers and she returns the pressure. She realizes how terrible it would have been if the last thing she ever said to Stephen was out of anger. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, a small smile on his lips. “Me too.”

That leaves a warm feeling in Hayden’s chest and she returns his smile.

Christine turns back to Hayden, holding a thread and needle in her gloved hands. “I’ve never seen a wound like this before, Hayden. What what you were stabbed with?”

Hayden remembers the front of her tuic is partially opened and she represses the urge to flush in embarrassment. “I don’t know.”

“Hayden, I’m a doctor,” Stephen says, noticing her embarrassment. “It’s not anything I’ve never seen before.”

She lets out a small, nervous laugh as Christine gets to work stitching her up; thankfully, there’s no pain, only a strange tugging sensation. “That’s not very comforting, you know.”

There’s several moments of awkward silence.

Dr. Palmer makes brief eye contact with Hayden. “Do either of you care to explain what the hell is happening? I mean, it’s been months since I last saw Stephen and he shows up out of the blue and passing out on the ground with barely any explanation.”

“That’s kind of a long story,” Hayden says, looking between Christine and Stephen, realizing there’s definitely history between them. Which is none of her business of course. “And I honestly think you don’t want to know.”

“It’s okay, Hayden,” Stephen says with a reassuring squeeze of her hand before he lets go. Hayden immediately misses the warmth.

He goes on to explain where he’s been all this time, telling Christine a little about Kamar-Taj.

“So, you joined a cult,” Christine says, finishing up a suture and moving on to the next. She looks to be about three quarters of the way done already.

Hayden gives a light laugh as Stephen back pedals a bit. “Well, no, not exactly. I mean, they did teach me to tap into powers I didn’t even know existed.”

“That sounds like a cult,” Dr. Palmer says with a small smile.

“It’s not a cult.”

“That’s what a cultist would say, Stephen,” Hayden says as she catches his eye.

Christine finishes up the last suture, strips off her gloves and helps Hayden close her blood stained tunic. “So, you’re part of this cult too, huh?”

“You heard Stephen, Dr. Palmer. It’s not a cult,” Hayden says, managing a weak joke as she begins to push herself into a sitting position with a groan.

Stephen helps her sit up and Christine looks alarmed. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going. I need to keep you under observation for at least twenty four hours.”

“It’s alright,” Hayden says as she flexes her stiff wings. Christine notices the movement and jumps a little when she realizes what they are. “I’m a mutant. I happen to heal faster than normal people.”

“Christine’s right,” Stephen says as he bends a disapproving look on her. “You should stay here.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Strange.” Hayden eases her legs over the edge of the table. “We’re late for a cult meeting anyway.”

Hayden gingerly slides off the table, thankful Stephen is there to steady her. Her legs feel like a strange mixture between super stiff and jelly.

Stephen wraps an arm around her shoulders, letting Hayden lean on him. “I want you to know I think this is a really bad idea.”

Christine walks ahead of the duo and holds the door open as they shuffle out of the operating room. “I second that…. Where are you guys even going?”

Stephen and Hayden exchange a look.

“Just tell me the truth,” Christine says as she walks on Hayden’s other side.

“Well, a powerful sorcerer, who gave himself over to an ancient entity and can bend the very laws of physics, tried very hard to kill us but we left him chained up in Greenwich Village-,” Stephen says as they arrive at the double doors they came through earlier.”-and the quickest way back is through a dimensional gateway I opened in the mop closet.”

“Okay, don’t tell me, fine,” Dr. Palmer says as she opens the doors and allows Stephen and Hayden to go through first. Her eyes widen as she lets the broom closet doors shut behind her. The sling ring portal is still there in all its sparky glory. “Whoa.”

Stephen steps up into it and helps Hayden through as well.

“Thanks for patching me up, Dr. Palmer,” Hayden says as she gives a little awkward wave at the gaping Christine.

“We really must be going,” Stephen says, before he lets the portal close.

“I kind of feel bad for her.” She turns to face Stephen, feeling much steadier on her feet. “It’s a lot to process.”

“She can handle it,” he says. “She’s a strong woman.”

There’s a hint of remembrance in his voice and that forms a bitter and unpleasant knot in Hayden’s stomach. She forces it away, telling herself she has no reason to be-

Jealous.

She bites her lip and looks away from Stephen. “She sure seemed like it.” That’s when Hayden notices the cloak waiting patiently a couple feet away, levitating serenely a couple inches from the ground. “You’re cape’s waiting for you.” Stephen goes over to it and Hayden follows. “It’s not a cape, it’s a cloak.”

He wraps his fingers around the collar and with one deft motion of his arm, it whirls around him in a soft red blur and settles on his shoulders.

Hayden raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed fashion at him, despite the warm feeling growing in her chest. “If you’re trying to be cool, then it’s (working) not working.” Stephen shakes his head at her and opens his mouth to retort, but she cuts him off. “Anyway, where has it been this whole time?”

Stephen’s face tightens a fraction. “It was keeping that zealot busy while you were….” He winces a little and Hayden touches a hand to her chest. “I was able to get my sling ring back because of it.”

Hayden takes a half step closer to him and hesitantly takes his hand. “About back at the hospital, you’re not actually a nuisance, Stephen,” she says, briefly making eye contact with him before looking away. “I’d be dead if you hadn’t been here and I don’t know how to thank you enough for that.” She draws her thumb over his knuckles. “Despite the fact we bicker a lot, you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had-” Friend? Why does that feel so wrong to say? “- and you’ve always been there for me. I’m sorry I haven’t been as good to you as you’ve been to me.”

Stephen’s fingers squeeze hers. “Hayden, look at me.” She does as he asks and there’s a blatant softness in his eyes she can’t recall seeing before. It fills her up and warms her heart. “You have been more than I could have ever asked for, so don’t think for a second you haven’t been enough.”

His kind words cause tears to prick at the back of her eyes. She looks away from him for a moment, blinking them back and letting out a small self deprecating laugh. The world has been telling Hayden her entire life that she’s a freak, that she doesn’t belong and that she’ll never be enough. So to have Stephen, the man that she’s grown to-

Her thoughts grind to a screeching halt and the realization hits her like a ton of bricks. All these warm feelings and pangs she’s been getting around him, her jealousy of Christine, her willingness to throw her life away if it meant he got to live, it suddenly all makes sense and boils down to one all encompassing phrase.

The man she’s grown to love.

There’s a release somewhere in her, thanks to finally admitting it to herself, and that release brings forth a whole wave of emotions crashing over her, drowning her.

“Hayden.” Stephen’s voice silences and calms the wave back into peacefulness. “Are you alright?”

She blinks rapidly and looks back up at him, her heart giving a lurch when their eyes meet. “Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine.” Which is a complete and utter lie. Her eyes flick down to his mouth for a moment and she gulps. “I just- realized something.” Almost without her noticing, she begins to slowly lean up, thanks to a strange and new magnetism forming between them.

Stephen’s other hand comes up and brushes a strand of hair back into place, eyes following the movement, before lightly cupping her cheek. “And what would that be?” He begins to lean down too.

Hayden’s voice dies in her throat when they make eye contact again, her train of thought careening off its tracks. She gathers the courage to close the gap all at once and-

“Strange, Jones! You’re okay!”

Stephen and Hayden immediately pull away from each other and turn to face the direction the unwelcome voice came from. It’s Mordo, coming down the stairs with a distinctly relieved and oblivious look on his face. She wishes she could punch him for barging in at exactly the wrong moment.

Hayden suppress a sigh. “Well, generally speaking.”

Mordo stops at the bottom of the stairs and motions for them to follow him. “Come, the Ancient One is waiting.” He turns and begins to make his way back up the stairs.

Stephen glances at Hayden and offers her a small awkward half smile before following Mordo. She goes after them, attempting to calm the maelstorm brewing in her mind. She and Stephen were about to kiss, kiss. That means he’s at least attracted to her, right? People normally don’t go around almost- kissing people they’re not attracted to, right?

Right?

As the three of them emmerge into the artifact room, stepping around the piless of broken glass scattered about, she forces any thought of what transpired between her and Stephen away. She’ll have plenty of time to overanalyze it later. Momentarily tuning out the conversation between Stephen, Mordo, and the Ancient One, Hayden notices what appears to be the body of the zealot from the operating room laying on the ground near the top of the stairs. She goes over to him and crouches down, wincing when she notices the glassy look to his eyes. Hayden presses two fingers to his throat and doesn’t feel a pulse. Letting out a slow breath, she stands back up and moves away from the body.

Yes, Stephen obviously saved her life in that operating room, but he had to kill someone, albeit someone who was arguably evil and definitly trying to kill her. It’s a weight he’ll carry for the rest of his life and that’s the last thing Hayden, knowing from experience, wants on Stephen’s shoulders.

“No, it’s Doctor Strange. Not Master, not Mr. Doctor.”

Hayden stops at Stephen’s side and bites her lip, her hands twisting in front of her.

“When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to do no harm.” He gives a small angry gesture. “And I have just killed a man. I am not doing that again. I became a doctor to save lives, not take them.”

Hayden winces when he says this and she looks away from him as her shoulders droop a bit. If she had done something different in that operating room, then maybe Stephen wouldn’t have had to kill that zealot. Maybe she could have prevented that from happening somehow.

Thanks to her bad habit of getting lost in her own head, Hayden missed another chunk of conversation.

“Like how you feed off him?” Stephen takes a step closer to the Sorcerer Supreme, shoulders tight and voice sharp. “You talk to me about controlling death, but I’ve seen the rituals from the book of Cagliostro.”

“Measure your next words very carefully, doctor.” The tone of her voice is calm, but there’s a subtle hint of warning in it too.

“Stephen, what are you talking about?” Hayden says, stepping up beside him and touching his arm.

Mordo looks between the three of them, obviously feeling the rising tension in the room.

“I’m talking about her long life, the source of her immortality.” Stephen turns his head and makes eye contact with Hayden. “She draws power from the Dark Dimension to stay alive.”

Hayden opens her mouth, but Mordo is already speaking, stepping forward. “That’s not true!”

Stephen breaks the eye contact with Hayden and looks over at Mordo. “I’ve seen the rituals, worked them out.” His gaze cuts back over to the Ancient One. “I know how you do it.”

She’s standing there, just looking at him. “Once they regroup, the zealots will be back. You’ll need reinforcements.”

With that, she turns and exits the room.

#doctorstrange #fanfiction #romance #mutantoc #stephenstrangexoc #doctorstrangexoc

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theseventhhex · 6 years

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RF Shannon Interview

RF Shannon

Photo by Jess Williamson

On ‘Trickster Blues’, their new full length album, RF Shannon take a drastic shift from the long form, pensive desert meditations of their previous record. RF Shannon formed the new music born out of natural and self-imposed boundaries; the final product is an album that lives in the sonic space between desert blues and old school R&B. At times heavy like a jackhammer while maintaining the velvety vocal deliveries of Shane Renfro, the mind behind the band. ‘Trickster Blues’ is an album that embraces the natural indecision surrounding the songwriting process and goes with its gut decision every step of the way. The album is demanding in its immediacy while providing a raw and profound insight to the raw sonic and lyrical landscape Renfro & Co have crafted… We talk to Shane Renfro about the themes he was drawn to, plant medicine and meditation…

TSH: How do you feel your musical outlooks have progressed since the last full-length?

Shane: I feel that I’m learning to distil a lot of the vibrations I want to emit into a more accessible form, which for this album meant a little less musicality and more of a bare-bones approach. It’s like the difference between a poem and a short story; can you whittle it down and convey the weight of a vibration or meaning with less descriptors and narrative? It’s been nice to make a song that even my dad would smoke a joint to and say “hell yeahhhhh”. I wouldn’t call that progress as much as trying something different.

TSH: Were you looking to create something that elicits an array of different emotions this time around?

Shane: Basically, my buddy Jesse Woods met me in Marfa and we hung out for a couple months and demoed the material. We had the time and space to play around with a sound we wanted to get, which just came from living a life we wanted to live. I think the end result feels like a mysterious little ball of light that you can easily hold in your hand, you can let it float around, but you can grasp it if you want to and put it in your cocktail. Not too emotional, just kind of a passing feeling, a liminal state, a glance at the astral plane while you’re doing your taxes.

TSH: What sort of ideas and themes were you mostly delving into with ‘Trickster Blues’?

Shane: Learning to recognise self-sabotage, learning to empathise with people that I think are destroying the planet, embracing the shockwaves of a world that seems to simultaneously be growing more beautiful and more terrifying every moment. The album name ‘Trickster Blues’ came from an intense experience I had while in a ceremony working with San Pedro tea. I feel that during that night I caught a glimpse of the Trickster archetype and it really turned me on to a perspective shift that allowed me to have room in my heart for all these frustrating, conflicting things going on in my life and the world at large. So that’s the main theme, those are the sort of ideas I was working with.

TSH: As a whole what kind of message(s) do you feel underlines the album’s significance?

Shane: On a musical level, I hope it just grooves for people. I have no idea what people like anymore. I think it’s all over the place. Our record is mostly minor-based guitar blues music with a western edge and a touch of psychedelia; it’s just new folk music. When I go back to visit Austin, a lot of my old friends just go to raves now and listen to EDM. I think that’s just fine. I hope people can listen to this album and remember they exist in a PLACE - independent of social media, memes, mob mentality, politics, etc. It’s oneiric, it’s the stuff of dreams, the in-between meaning kind of thoughts and feelings that flow through us when we’re not putting on fronts and chasing ambitions, it’s the simplicity and profundity of simply being human and not getting in the way of that. Because when you get in the way of what you fundamentally are, you create delusion and suffering. You end up caring more about how many followers Taylor Swift has on Instagram than what kind of trees are growing in your back yard. Is that significant? I think so.

TSH: How important is the aspect of sequencing for you?

Shane: My brother and I sit in his truck drinking Coors and listen on repeat deciding what works best, what gives us the most joy. This usually lasts for hours. I feel like sequencing allows songs to be multi-contextual and can lend a whole new power to them. Although Leonard Cohen refers to “the minor fall and major lift” in the context of a song, I think it works with album sequencing too. It’s important; it’s also really fun, although I will say the album is mostly minor falls.

TSH: What sort of feelings were experiencing when you completed this album?

Shane: I felt stoked. We recorded it live; most of the songs were done in one take. It was fast and easy, which felt strange considering that we spent a year recording our previous record. We just rolled with it. We basically all lived together in Lockhart for a few months prior to recording, so the album is like a soundtrack to that. Listening back, of course, I would dive into some of the compositions and expand on them, make them more interesting, smooth out some of the tones, but it’s too late and I’m glad for that.

TSH: Talk us through the ideas behind the track ‘Cold Spell’ and how it entails a complicated scenario…

Shane: The song is about a love triangle, and it is written so that any person involved in the situation could say the lyrics and it would make sense for them. It is about trying to understand the perspectives of all sides at once. That’s something to chew on. It means you can’t really justify or bullshit yourself, you just gotta deal with it all.

TSH: What sort of motivations do you draw on to pen a track like ‘Gates of Paradise’?

Shane: I wrote it in Marfa because I was feeling like life was pretty perfect, yet I still couldn’t shake a lingering sadness. It’s about being in paradise and not finding what you thought you would. It’s about that Illusion - the trance of expectations sabotaging us. It’s another way of dealing with the grass is always greener on the other side paradox and trying to work through that with a useful trance, a penetrative gaze into what’s really going on.

TSH: Does playing live help you to figure out the shape of your songs?

Shane: I would say that up until very recently, it’s the only way I have shaped the songs. I have an idea that I lay out on my phone’s voice memo, then I send it to Jeff (Brother/Drummer) who either digs it or doesn’t, then it goes into rehearsal. Also, I feel that we’ve always been known in Austin as more of a live band, but in the past we recorded these lush arrangements that we couldn’t recreate live. With ‘Trickster Blues’ we just went for it and tracked it (mostly) live to honour that experience. I think lately though, the songs I have been building are more independent of a live setting.

TSH: Outside of music, what strong attachments do you have to non-musical walks of life?

Shane: I like to be outdoors. I’m really fascinated by plant medicine. I need to be outside talking to the water, the hills and the birds. I grieve for a lost sense of wildness in myself and the world. I can’t help it, I just feel it. It makes me angry. I bottle it up and get depressed about it. I’m attached to experiencing wisdom, and exploring knowledge of how to keep a good relationship with earth, spirit and death and all these things we have clearly failed at relating to in a healthy way. That’s what I’m most attached to.

TSH: Do you often meditate still to find some clarity?

Shane: I do and I don’t. I feel that my life itself is pretty clear. My day job is fabricating metal. So when I’m building, it’s like a meditation. Thoughts come and go, I acknowledge them but I’m just stoked to be alive and creating something, and then I get off work and I tend to emails and hang out with my girl and we cook nice simmering meals and burn incense and write songs. I feel my life has become fairly clear. But, you know, when I feel that way, something always comes out of the swamp, something from a long time ago that demands my attention. But then, meditation is all about letting that ride. There are days where I know I need to sit and breathe it out. So, I do and I don’t.

TSH: What is the most gratifying factor in being immersed in the art form of music?

Shane: To be honest it’s the formative stages. It’s being a little tipsy and stoned and digging into a vibe, without thinking, that just soothes the soul. From there, I share it with my brother. It keeps us in constant contact. He has his own plumbing business in Austin. I’m in LA. Can you imagine? If we didn’t have this common link we’d probably grow apart. My favourite thing about making music is making it with my brother and close friends. It keeps us all dreaming together. Apart from that, playing a live show to an attentive and stoked crowd is an energy that can’t be replaced.

TSH: What are your musical intentions as you look ahead?

Shane: Keep it real at all costs. Keep it coming at all costs, there’s no money in it so it’s easy.

RF Shannon - “Had a Revelation”

Cold Spell - Single

#Interview #RF Shannon

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thefabulousfulcrum · 7 years

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Jonathan Richman: In Love with the Modern World

via Vice

ERNIE BROOKS, AS TOLD TO LEGS MCNEIL

Ernie Brooks is a very likable fellow who was raised in New York and Connecticut by intellectual, liberal parents, which explains why he became a civil rights activist down South during the violent “Freedom Summer” of the early 1960s. Ernie’s a Harvard graduate who studied English literature, poetry, and rock 'n' roll, along with his college roommate Jerry Harrison, who later became the keyboard player for the Talking Heads. A chance encounter with Jonathan Richman led to a wild ride as one of the founding members of the legendary Modern Lovers, perhaps the greatest alt-rock, pre-punk, indie band that no one has ever seen.

“I’m Straight”

Jerry Harrison, who was my roommate at Harvard, saw Jonathan Richman playing on the Cambridge Commons, which is smaller than the Boston Commons, right by Harvard Square, and said to me, “You gotta come see this weird guy. He’s really nuts, but he sounds very cool…”

At that time, Jonathan used to wear these suits with a very conservative white shirt and tie, sport coat, and dress pants, and he had really short hair—it was really funny. There was something about it that was really confrontational in an interesting way.

Jonathan had a band with David Robinson, who was the drummer, and another guy named Rolf, who was playing bass, and they played these free shows on the Cambridge Commons. Jonathan had this blue Jazzmaster guitar with like two strings and had decorated it with the Howard Johnson’s decals. He had painted it light blue and orange like the Howard Johnson's colors—and almost all the songs he played were in E minor—it was very minimalist. "I see the restaurant. It is my friend" was a line from one of the songs.

Jerry and I were both amazed by Jonathan. I had been studying poetry with different people at Harvard, like Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Creeley, so I was struck by the connection between Jonathan’s deep poetic roots and the idea of talking about everyday things. So the poetry was there—instantly I could hear the visionary poetry.

Jonathan was doing that song “I’m Straight,” which, of course, he was. Jonathan didn’t take drugs—though, later on, Jerry persuaded him to take a puff of marijuana, and Jonathan suddenly got this weird look on his face and got up and was about to pick up a frying pan and said, “Jerry, I’m gonna have to hit you with a frying pan, 'cause I have to hurt somebody in order to know that I am stoned and I’m not myself...”

And I cracked up and said, “Jonathan, that’s OK. You don’t have to do that…”

Jonathan was really upset that his consciousness had been altered. And as far as I know, that’s how he’s always been—very straight—so in that sense, “I’m Straight” was real and completely true.

At some point, before we saw him on the Cambridge Commons, Jonathan had gone to New York and slept on Lou Reed’s couch and worked briefly as a busboy at Max’s Kansas City, where he was fired because he was really not very skilled as a busboy. But he loved the Velvet Underground—he loved two bands—the Stooges and the Velvets. He used to preach about the Stooges all the time—and that’s what’s funny about Jonathan, his music didn’t sound like either band, but there was some deep connection there.

Anyway, Jerry Harrison and I saw Jonathan a couple times on the Cambridge Commons, but we didn't meet him—and then he showed up at our apartment at 152 Putnam Ave wearing his white plastic motorcycle jacket. Danny Fields, the great facilitator of all things rock 'n' roll, brought Jonathan over, and that was the first time Jerry and I really met him. Jonathan started dancing around and showing us his songs. Jonathan would grab whatever instrument was around; sometimes he didn’t have an instrument, and he’d just start clapping his hands and singing whatever new song was in his head, to whoever was there to listen. He still does that.

I don't know how it came about, but we started talking about Yeats—Jonathan knew some literature, and we connected on that level. You know that Yeats poem, "The Wild Swans at Coole"? "…lover by lover, / They paddle in the cold / Companionable streams…” It’s a very beautiful Celtic twilight kind of vision.

"I’ve Got the AM Radio On...”

So Jonathan was into poetry—but he was also into the first Stooges album, which had just come out. So I talked with Jonathan about what a great rhythm section the Stooges had, and he was really into that, and he was really funny. He also loved the Velvet Underground, but he was very conflicted about them, because of the darkness they presented. I always had this theory that our sound was almost the opposite of the Velvets, that basically we were playing into the light as opposed to the darkness. But you could argue that about anybody—any art that expresses pain is also suggesting a way out of the pain.

I don’t know exactly what Jerry and I said after Jonathan left that day, but we both thought that he was interesting—not like anybody else. Basically everything else was just a lot of blues jam bands and folk rock remnants of the Bosstown Sound (remember Ultimate Spinach and Beacon Street Union?)—and what appealed to me about Jonathan was that he was as new as anything and there was something that was really positive about him.

So it was decided we were going to play this gig with him—our first gig—at some teen center out in Natick, Massachusetts. Natick was one of those beltway suburban towns around Boston, near Route 128, which was just starting to have some high-tech companies and factories. So we went and rehearsed in David Robinson’s basement—he lived with his parents in Woburn, Massachusetts, and his mom made us food, like tuna fish sandwiches or something to eat after we'd play. And Jon Felice, who had been Jonathan’s childhood friend, joined us on guitar. He seemed to be constantly leaving the band and coming back, following his frequent fights with Jonathan. So anyway, we played the teen center in Natick, and that was our first gig.

All of our early gigs were pretty dippy, so, of course, Jerry and I said, “Well, we can probably get some jobs at a Harvard mixer,” like we’re gonna come up in the world and our band can make one hundred bucks!

And we did get a Harvard mixer! But the funny thing about the mixer was that when we were playing something with a good beat, the people would dance—there was always a small group of people who were really into it and were listening—and the rest of the people didn’t give a shit, which I guess is always the way. I mean, most of the guys were there to pick up girls, and we had a song called “The Mixer,” which goes, “Hey, girls, do you notice the smell?” It’s talking directly about girls and the guys at the mixer, confronting them with the absurdity of the situation. It’s a pretty funny song, and we’d play it at these mixers—and nobody got it! Of course, the PA was lousy and they might not have heard the words.

When we first met him, I think Jonathan was incredibly isolated and caught in his adolescence. He really wanted to meet girls, but not knowing how to do it, he focused on the astral plane, in which he could meet someone in this world and communicate with her in a dream state. I mean, he did meet girls, but then he would not know what to do with them or what to say to them. He’d call me in the middle of the night, saying, about a girl we both knew, “Ernie, I think I entered her dream. Do you think that’s right?”

And I’d say, “Well, Jonathan, I guess its OK, I dunno...”

He was describing how he had entered into some girl’s dream and was feeling some connection to her soul. Of course, Jonathan was a big fan of Van Morrison’s album Astral Weeks—that’s such a beautiful record. I wasn’t sure if Jonathan was actually able to do that, enter a girl’s dream—but he really believed in it, which is where that song, “The Astral Plane,” came from—the idea that you can communicate in another dimension with someone who's hard to reach in everyday life.

“I’m In Love with The Modern World…"

Jonathan definitely wrote the lyrics to “Roadrunner,” and we did the arrangement. Jonathan came up with the idea for most of the songs, but the music started out pretty simple. Mostly on one chord, and you could say the nut of it came from Jonathan—and then we filled it in and gave it structure.

I mean, we’d argue in rehearsal—about which song to do, about how to arrange it, or whether we should have the break here or there. We argued from the very beginning. We talked and discussed things endlessly—we all loved to talk—and Dave was the one getting pissed off, saying, “Come on, stop talking, rehearse it, play it!” From early on we had an agreement where we would split all the publishing; all songs would be by the Modern Lovers, kind of like the Ramones. It was a way for us to recoup some of our expenses. It felt really justified at the time because I got the van and Jerry brought a lot of the equipment from Milwaukee.

"When You Get Out of the Hospital, Let Me Back into Your Life"

At some of the early shows Jonathan would set up an easel, and he’d place his drawings on it. I don't know if you’ve seen any of the drawings, but I have a copy of a poster that he drew; it’s of the Modern Lovers—a cartoon of the four of us with a heart flying over the band. It’s got the highway in the background and stuff. And he had this picture of a girl in the suburban town in Massachusetts where she lived and a picture of the hospital she ended up in, and while pointing to the drawings he’d recite the lyrics before he did the song.

Eventually someone—it must have been Danny Fields—called Lillian Roxon from the Daily News about the Modern Lovers. So Lillian came up and heard us play in this little dump and wrote about it for the newspaper—and that article started a sudden rush of record companies coming to see us. The funniest thing was Clive Davis (head of Columbia Records) coming to see us in this school gym in North Cambridge. We’d set up with our PA, and there were probably 50 totally bored, indifferent high school students there. So Clive was there—he couldn’t hear shit and actually had his ear up against this Shure Vocal Master Speaker—and just said, “These lyrics can be taken on many different levels!”

Clive offered us a record contract, but we didn’t go with him. That was when we started our insanity, thinking we were hot shit and we were going to go check out everybody in the business to find the best manager and the one record company that was worthy of the Modern Lovers.

I think we were just idiots, believing that we could be so demanding, before we had really done very much as a band.

It was a funny bunch of personalities. And I’d say Jerry Harrison and I were the most business-oriented, most reasonable, but David was pretty pragmatic too. However, the three of us were not good at being decisive. Jonathan was more so, but we generally would not agree with him when he was.

“I Don’t Want to Hurt Anybody”

In the spring of '72 we flew to LA to work on a demo for both Warner Bros. and A & M, two of the labels hot to sign us. John Cale, a house producer for Warner at the time, was a big reason we went. We really wanted him to produce the first Modern Lovers record; we were fans of his through the Velvet Underground and through the fact that he'd produced the first Stooges record. The first time I met him was when I went to his apartment years before, somewhere on the lower East Side, and he had photos of someone having a nose job on the wall—a fairly disturbing set of pictures. In the couple of weeks on the West Coast, we recorded all the songs that went into the Modern Lovers album, most of them recorded by Cale in a session where he basically captured us playing our live set. It went well, though all of us thought at the time that it was just a demo, preparation for what would be the "real" record.

In summer of '73 we went back, finally signed to Warner Bros., to record the real deal with John. After staying a while in Van Nuys at Emmylou Harris's place, we got this stucco house on Kings Road in Hollywood, one of those windy roads that runs off of Hollywood Boulevard, sort of hidden in the shrubbery. It was one of the scariest places because these houses were so isolated. One night we could hear the sound of helicopters circling, their searchlights trained on the house just down the road, and then we see the black cars driving up with guys with their sniper rifles and black vests—so we knew something was going on, but we didn’t know what. We heard a lot of shooting and then cars driving away.

There’s something very sinister about LA that people don’t usually talk about.

And that’s where the problems started, almost immediately. I think it was because Jonathan had been changing. I don’t think it was so much that he was getting tired of the old songs as he was developing this idea that the whole rock-'n'-roll-star-making machinery was corrupt. And part of that was the whole system of burning fossil fuels to generate electricity, using a lot of power for amps and sound systems, playing stadiums—you know, feeling that there was something wrong in profiting from all these things—and he started tying it all together in his mind and decided that he didn’t want the Modern Lovers to be a conventional rock 'n' roll band.

But it made it impossible for us!

David, the drummer, and I shared a love of tight, poppy rock 'n' roll songs, and that’s the way we wanted to make our album. So I had endless conversations with Jonathan, like, “Jonathan, you can do whatever you want afterwards. Let's just make this record, and then let’s go out and play some shows! People need to hear these songs—they’re good songs, and they sound good!”

Jonathan was saying, “Ohh, I don't know, I don’t know. I don’t want the music if it's too loud. It’s gonna hurt kids' ears, ya know? And if it's real, the people will hear it, even if it's quiet, if there’s magic in it.”

He never denied the magic of rock 'n' roll—he just said if it was really quiet, you could hear the words better, and that was part of this whole shift.

John Cale had a real sense of how he wanted things to sound and was very insistent. So there was a problem in the making there. While working with Cale, things got even more difficult, probably because Jonathan was starting to not want to play loud, powerful, electric music anymore, and that made Cale crazy.

One of the songs we tried to re-record and couldn’t quite get right, I think, was "Someone I Care About," so Cale said to Jonathan, “You gotta sound mean; you gotta sound like you wanna kill somebody!”

And Jonathan said, “Oh, I don’t want to hurt anybody—I wanna make a nice, happy-sounding record,” because this was obviously his new sensibility. Jonathan was headed in a new direction, and Cale wanted the angst and the violence in the sound, which really characterized us in our early days.

John Cale was also not in the best shape: He was drinking a lot, though I don't know if he was taking drugs. I used to go out and play tennis with him at the Burbank tennis courts when he was in a good mood, and Cale was always asking, “What’s going on? What’s with Jonathan? Why can’t we do this record? Why do you have to change the sound?”

He was growing increasingly frustrated with Jonathan and the whole ordeal. As I said, things weren’t going great in Cale’s life. One evening he even called me up and said, “I know my wife’s there!” Of course, part of the story there was that she, Cindy, had been a close friend and bandmate in the GTO's of Miss Christine, who had died of an overdose the year before at the house we were renting on the South Shore of Boston, and that's another part of the story, of things that cast a pall over the Modern Lovers. Miss Christine's death had apparently totally destabilized Cindy.

I said, “John, she’s not here!”

I don't know what was going on, but I don’t think it was good. I have to say, it must have been a terrible thing for Cale, because he was the producer of this potentially great record he wanted to make—that Jonathan wouldn’t let him make—and at the same time we all admired him, but it just wasn’t working out.

So we were all kind of upset because we felt we were on the cusp of greatness—we envisioned everything going right—and at the same time Warner Bros., desperate to keep the project on track, was trying to put us together with a manager. They kept saying, “If we just get these guys a good manager, they’ll fall into line…”

“I Never Said, ‘Fuck You Jonathan!’”

One of the funniest things was when we played at the Swing Auditorium in San Bernardino—the gig was set up by Warner Bros., and we played with Tower of Power in front of 10,000 people—and everyone started throwing stuff at us.

I remember getting hit with a can of something, and that’s where Jonathan said, “We know you don’t like us, but we love you anyway.” And Warner Bros. had all this promotion that said, “The Modern Lovers —Warner Brothers' Big New Hit Group!” That was a pretty comical, and it was the usual thing where a couple kids liked us and ran up and said, “Hey, you guys are good!” Or they handed us a note saying, “You guys are great,” because they were terrified to have their friends know that they liked this band that was getting booed off the stage.

At one of the last gigs we did, when we played “Roadrunner,” we still didn’t have a record out, but that was always a catchy song, and we actually got some applause—and then Jonathan said, “People like that song too much; I don’t think we should do it anymore….”

I think it was just part of Jonathan’s natural inclination that when things seemed to be going well—to go against it. He was very contrary. He was very difficult. I mean, anybody who is on to something new has some element of being a contrarian, because they’re rejecting the status quo. They're doing something in the way they’ve figured out how to do it—and they don’t want to hear something different, even if it could make things better. When Jonathan said, “I won't play 'Roadrunner' anymore," it was pretty much the classic case—you can’t really get any more contrarian than that.

So we got in a heated debate, and I said, “Yes, I can understand how one can be suspicious of people liking something, but at the same time, we are a functioning band, you know? We’re not going to be so particular; we’ll do something if people like it, not to please someone but because it’s a great song. We like it too, so we’re not pandering to anyone by playing it.”

By that time, Jonathan was already rejecting the use of electricity, and a head guy from Warner Bros. called and Jonathan said, “We’ll play the songs for the record, but we won’t do any of these songs when we play live.” Jonathan said this to the guy who had given us this fairly substantial record deal to record the songs—and who didn’t want to hear that.

Jonathan started saying his old songs were too negative and dark, and he started writing things like “Hey There Little Insect,” and maybe he was way ahead of us, but we couldn’t follow him—he wanted us to go, “Buzz, buzz, buzz” on stage, but we were too cool!

Later, there was a conversation with the guy from Warner Bros., who said, “Listen, if you guys aren’t going to do these songs on the road, if you’re not going to play them, we’re not going to keep on putting money into the recording...”

We got about four crazy, not very satisfactory tracks done, and then came the moment when Warner Bros. continued to put pressure on us, which led to Jonathan saying, “Well, I’m just not gonna do this anymore…”

So Warner Bros. dropped us.

So that was a turning point where. It had gotten to where, if we had something that people wanted to hear, Jonathan would refuse. It was a conceptual way of approaching rock 'n' roll—but not a way to make a living or feel very happy.

So we were like, “Jonathan, maybe you’re brilliant, but we’re not gonna go there...”

But I never said, “Fuck you, Jonathan!”

I never said, “I’m not talking to you…”

The last time I played with Jonathan was for Joey Ramone when Joey was sick, at the Continental. It was before Christmas, so it wasn’t one of Joey’s Christmas shows. I think it was Joey’s birthday party. I didn’t know Joey was sick, but he was. Joey talked to Jonathan and said, “Would you set up with the band and do 'Roadrunner'?”

So I played bass with Jonathan and, I think, Tommy on drums. it was fun, and the crowd loved it. Of course that made me think, “Hey, let's do this some more!”

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