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leviathanswingman · 3 years

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love is a losing game, chapter 8: i break the spell

In retrospect, Diavolo should have known there was trouble in the air. There had been myriads of signs, yet he had foolishly decided to remain blind in favour of avoiding an uncomfortable truth he was unwilling to face.

The moment those doors closed behind Diavolo's back and the off-putting silence was filled with the unmistakable echo of a dull thud, Diavolo was forced to recognize that every single one of his actions, no matter how little or seemingly insignificant, had its consequences.

He caught himself thinking back, and the more thought he put into it, the more he grew aware of his own foolishness.

Diavolo was less than thrilled when Barbatos had revealed the plan for the evening he had come up with in collaboration with Simeon. A night out at one of the hottest clubs in town, just Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon and Solomon. Good grief.

Surely, their intentions were pure at heart, after all Diavolo had spent the entire day holed up in his room, wallowing in his own royal pity.

He had just made one of the biggest mistakes of his life, so he should confidently be allowed to pity himself for a good minute or two.

He had to face reality and remind himself that he had slept with Lucifer. Out of all the irrational choices Diavolo had made in his entire life, this might have been by far the most self destructive one. Normally, people would be thrilled, no, even elated to become one with their most beloved. For Diavolo though, what was generally supposed to be a joyous occasion had turned one of his most detrimental relationships upside down. It did not matter how deeply Diavolo wanted him, he was terribly aware of how keen Lucifer was on keeping their relationship strictly professional.

The one thing Diavolo could allow himself was meaningful side-glances and hands brushing against each other ever so accidentally as they walked side by side. He knew he should feel fulfilled by all of that, yet desire was keeping hold of his heart; there were these bony fingers with nails the exact shade of fresh blood tightening around that beating little thing of his that caused nothing but unwarranted trouble.

In spite of everything, Diavolo's feelings for Lucifer were one of the Devildom's most badly kept secrets and often-whispered rumours. To be completely honest, he himself didn't contribute all that much to stop the spreading of said rumour. Call it laziness or his disdain for telling lies, both assumptions were correct in their own little ways. Perhaps there was a part of him, however deeply hidden inside, that did not mind whatsoever. No, that fluttering part of his soul was filled with the undeniable need to make it known across all three realms just how adored and appreciated Lucifer was. How loved he was. Still, Lucifer was not his, he had never been and would never be.

Gentle feelings had been living in Diavolo's heart ever since he'd first decided to put his trust in Lucifer. Along the way however, they had ever so seamlessly turned from feelings of pride into feelings of love.

Thinking back, he had never had much of a chance to begin with. It had been a race against time. Falling for Lucifer, that was.

And although Diavolo harboured these certain feelings for Lucifer, he knew better than to act upon them. Lucifer was as complex as the universe; stars cowered before the intensity of his light, the morning star, still shining bright and standing strong, smarter than life and more handsome than death itself.

However, and most importantly, Lucifer was not dumb. By now, he must have surely caught on to Diavolo's thinly veiled adoration. Lucifer being his ever so obedient self probably simply refrained from acknowledging the fact and now refused Diavolo ever so politely and professionally, in his own subtle ways.

So Diavolo had learned to stick to their untold boundaries, had learned to tease and to compliment and to form one of the most important relationships of his life, always with invisible boundaries in mind.

This specific friday night however, with the cold winter air kissing his cheeks, he had been made aware of how thin the ice he was moving on was when he had let his own warm fingers slip in-between Lucifer's icy ones. For a second, it had felt ever so divine.

Saturday morning, when he awoke in the early morning hours, entangled in silky sheets and surrounded by Lucifer's intoxicating scent, he could pinpoint the moment he broke through the ice and sank down to the mysterious depths of a dark yet comforting ocean, struggling for air.

As Diavolo laid on his stomach, naked as the day he was born, his exhausted head resting on his arms, he felt confusion corrupt his heart. Newly born eyes drifted over the man resting beside him. Diavolo's eyes roamed over Lucifer's sleeping form next to him and ever so suddenly, he felt the need to avert his eyes. Seeing Lucifer like this felt like a sight he did not have the right to enjoy.

Still, he could not refuse to reach out, his fingertips trailing across the sharp angles of Lucifer's jawline, tracing along soft skin on strong cheekbones, working their way up to swipe beneath Lucifer's eyes. Diavolo took in every smallest bit of detail he could hang onto; his almost sickly pale skin, slightly swollen lips, elegant hands resting next to his face, dark strands of hair falling into his face, beautiful like a renaissance painting. Lucifer's face, for once all relaxed and without any signs of stress, so calm, so pristine. He looked so much younger like this, so much more at peace.

At once, Diavolo found himself struck with a single question: Why?

Lucifer had never been one to engage in Diavolo's flirtatious invitations, no. Actually, he used to make sure to pull up borders between them, set up boundaries to keep the two of them from growing closer than what was deemed acceptable in his mind. So why? Why had he humoured Diavolo this time, why had he allowed to let passion take the lead for once ?

Uncertainty was thick in the air. What would happen once the spell was broken and Lucifer awoke, ready to reject anything that had happened between them just to revert back to a painful working relationship?

Perhaps it was foolish of him, but to avoid confrontation and his own inevitable heartbreak, Diavolo did the one and only thing his old man had taught him all those years ago. He ran away.

A day later, he was now holed up in his room, finding comfort in the certainty of silken sheets and warm blankets.

There was a knock on the door before Barbatos raised his voice.”Young Master, are you ready to leave? We need to make haste.”

Diavolo suppressed a groan trying to emerge from the depths of his soul. “Barely, Barbatos. Barely,” he answered almost dramatically. He was aware of how childish this little act of defiance of his must seem, but after what had happened between Lucifer and him, he felt like he could allow himself this kind of luxury for a day or two, just until he felt either less ashamed or until he had come to terms with having gotten so close to the one person he could never truly have.

For the shortest of moments, he felt tempted to throw a little fit. If that was all he had to do to be allowed to stay at home, he would gladly do it. He was a prince after all, and that did come with its perks.

Of course, there would be no fooling Barbatos though, but it would at least get him off his back for the evening at last.

In the end, that wouldn't do him any good though. Living in absolute denial was easy, but to move on, Diavolo knew he had to step out of his comfort zone and admit to his wrongdoings. And maybe Barbatos and Simeon were right, perhaps it would do him good to get distracted a bit.

Begrudgingly, Diavolo got up, shuffled towards his dresser and put on the clothes Barbatos had picked out for him. Leather pants and a black dress shirt adorned with crimson roses, fair enough. Diavolo made himself presentable in a routinely fashion. As he was done, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, only to be left vis-a-vis with a stranger.

He had always been so sure of his own strength of mind, of his own restraint, yet now that he'd broken one of his biggest rules, he failed to recognize the demon in the mirror staring back at him. With a bothered sigh Diavolo picked himself up again and snapped out of it.

His dear friends were waiting for him. Only bad hosts would make their precious friends wait.

A twenty minute ride later, Barbatos, Simeon and Diavolo arrived at one of the Devildom's hottest clubs. Even outside, demons and other creatures were mingling, some with drinks in their hands and others without, apparently having the time of their lives.

Diavolo couldn't help but feel suffocated. How exactly any of this was supposed to cheer him up was nothing less than a mystery to him, but he still appreciated Simeon and Barbatos' attempt at gifting him an enjoyable evening, even though he most certainly would have preferred to spend the remainder of the night by himself buried in silken sheets. Not that there was much to change about that now.

It was well near midnight and the rather small building seemed to practically vibrate with music, sweat and an uncomfortable heat, only adding to Diavolo's avid reluctance to be there to begin with.

Solomon was waiting for them, clad in a leather jacket, standing next to a clearly overwhelmed bouncer. As they all approached, the demon froze in place before greeting the group accordingly. Quickly, he started to press stamp after stamp onto the back of their hands before anyone could protest. The club's mark shone bright red in the darkness. Diavolo tried to admire it for a moment but all he was reminded of were those piercing red eyes, set aflame, looking up at him from the comfort of silken sheets and quiet moans.

Simeon placed his hand atop of Diavolo's shoulder to lead him to the table they had reserved. “Let's go inside and see what's happening,” he said with a pretty smile which Diavolo didn't appreciate all that much at the moment. Still, he obliged and followed the angel into the overfilled club. As they entered they found themselves surrounded by whispers and mumbling. After all, both Simeon and Diavolo had quite the reputation and were well known across the lands.

Solomon, being the one most familiar with the club due to multiple nights out with Asmodeus, lead the way towards their table.

Diavolo suppressed a sigh. Normally, he knew better than to show himself in public looking this miserable, yet this night, he simply couldn't bring himself to put on a smile either. He was currently facing the crisis of a possibly crumbling relationship, a good amount of gloom seemed quite appropriate to him.

“There we are,” Solomon finally said as he motioned towards a table for four and stopped in his tracks. Diavolo swore he could hear the faintest train of curses leaving the sorcerer's mouth.

Upon surveying the room, Diavolo immediately zeroed in on the reason for Solomon's uncharacteristic reaction.

The table next to theirs, littered with several half-empty cups, was currently occupied by two men clinking their glasses together before indulging in their drinks. Without any hesitation one of them downed half of his drink while the other one took a solemn sip, looking rather miserable.

Out of all the places Diavolo could even consider running into Lucifer at, a sweaty night club was set dead last, yet somehow, fate had once again managed to betray Diavolo's trust in an epic fashion.

Despite his inner turmoil, Diavolo couldn't argue against the fact that Lucifer looked ravishing, even though there was that certain look to his eyes that suggested a high level of discomfort. Guilt gnawed at Diavolo's conscience as he couldn't help himself but feel responsible for that. He wanted to do nothing more than run to him, cradle his face and make everything bothersome go away. However, he refrained from doing so. To be perfectly honest, he could not place what their relationship was at the moment. After that night, nothing was certain anymore. Years upon years of suppressed feelings had finally boiled over in one night of glorious intimacy. Perhaps, Diavolo should have seen it coming. He was terribly impulsive by nature, and going against his own flow rarely worked out in his favour.

Diavolo looked at Lucifer and before he could so much as start to worry about how he should act now, their eyes met and Lucifer -ever so prim and proper, all elegant in his skintight onyx turtleneck- choked on his drink. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he averted his gaze again. As he turned his head to talk to his little brother, the collar of his turtleneck shifted slightly, revealing the quietest hint of a hickey under his jaw.

A sad smile flashed across Diavolo's face. What he wouldn't give to turn back time and unmake all of that night's mistakes, for now he knew what it was like to have a taste of this otherworldly perfection, only for it to be cruelly taken away from him.

“Oh, Lucifer! It's rare to see you out of your office,” Simeon greeted. “In a club nonetheless.”

Diavolo watched the way Lucifer's eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance. “I am solely here to keep an eye on Asmodeus,” he swiftly answered before taking another sip of his drink.

Barbatos, Diavolo, Simeon and Solomon joined the two demons at the almost vacant table in spite of the strange aura that seemed to surround them.

Slowly, they lost themselves in trivial conversations, and if Diavolo buried his head in the menu to avoid Lucifer's illegible gaze, then he would allow himself this foolish behaviour for one night before having to decide on what to do about the Lucifer situation. He spent the night sneaking glances while simultaneously avoiding to make eye contact with his right hand man, unable to face him yet but also unwilling to look away.

Several hours into the night Lucifer got up and left the table, turning his back to Diavolo as he headed towards a far-away corner of the club, probably to threaten Solomon, who seemed to have gotten himself in quite the situation with Asmodeus.

As Diavolo's eyes followed Lucifer's retreating figure, he spotted the faintest of lines peeking out of the collar which covered most of his neck, but had slid down a bit during the evening.

In that moment, Diavolo hadn't thought much of it. He was too occupied with the problem at hand, which was trying to find a way to fix what he had broken apart. So he shrugged off what he had seen as a fata morgana, as nothing but a mere illusion. His mind was probably just playing tricks on him.

Had he not been so distracted he would have taken note of the implications of those lines, still almost translucent in their newborn state.

The next time he saw Lucifer in more than passing was several days later due to Barbatos calling in an emergency student council meeting.

By then, Diavolo had made up his mind. To no surprise, a few days without any distractions, just him and his thoughts, were just what he had needed to come up with a solution.

All he had to do was apologize in complete sincerity. Lucifer deserved at least that much. He would apologize, he would do whatever was needed to set things right again.

Diavolo joined Lucifer's side, his right shoulder brushing against Lucifer's left one just as Barbatos opened the meeting.

Half-heartedly, Diavolo paid attention to the meeting. Apparently, someone on the council had managed to get themselves sick enough to be put on MagiMeds. Interestingly enough, the demon in question refused to reveal themselves. Not that they had to, but it was well known that it was generally the easiest way to fess up so you wouldn't inconvenience the rest of the council.

Normally, this would spark Diavolo's interest and he would find himself hell bent on finding out every single detail about the who, what, where and whys, but this day his mind was preoccupied with nothing but Lucifer.

After the meeting ended, Diavolo and Lucifer were joined by Barbatos. As they talked about the meeting, Diavolo found himself more interested in the matter the more Barbatos explained about the whole situation.

An unplanned bonding, he had called it. Something like this could only happen to the truly unfortunate. Diavolo expressed this sentiment to Barbatos just as Lucifer joined the conversation, his crimson eyes roaming over Diavolo's face, perhaps searching for something Diavolo himself wasn't aware of just yet. They talked, and even when faced with the hypothetical situation of an unplanned bond, Lucifer was being unapologetically, well, Lucifer. No one but him would write off an illness this logically and this removed from any sort of sentiment.

Diavolo didn't know whether to feel concerned or endeared, but in the end gave up on trying to figure out which one was the right one. After all, he was delighted to finally be able to talk to Lucifer again. Things weren't right just yet, but talking to him was already a step above pitiful pining from a safe distance.

Their eyes met for a moment and without any explanation, the strangest thing happened. Just as honey met glowing coals, a peculiar feeling ran through Diavolo's body. It felt almost as if he had been shocked by electricity; a subtle tingling followed by an uncomfortable buzzing. There was an additional stinging sensation running through his chest, right where his heart was. Subconsciously, Diavolo rubbed his chest to alleviate the discomfort.

Strangely enough, Lucifer's expression mirrored Diavolo's shocked one.

So he hadn't been the only one to feel it.

All at once, stronger than ever before, he was filled with the urgent need to touch Lucifer. Diavolo's heart was racing wildly, and without thinking about it, he reached out, the pads of his fingertips landing upon Lucifer's cheek, softly like the shyest of butterfly kisses. Diavolo felt another harsh sting run through his heart. There was no denying that he was absolutely helplessly in love with this man.

Suddenly flustered, Diavolo pulled his hand back again just as Barbatos joined them once again to pester, or perhaps remind Diavolo about his royal duties.

As Diavolo, thankful for the distraction, whined to Barbatos he noticed Lucifer twitching violently out of the corner of his eye, just once, before fixing his posture and rejoining their conversation as if nothing had happened whatsoever.

Diavolo decided not to comment on it, after all, it was nothing but a little twitch.

He paced back and forth in front of Lucifer's study. During the day, he had felt good about apologizing to Lucifer, almost excited even to fix their cracked relationship. Now though, that the time to take action had come, he found himself uncharacteristically nervous.

He was minutes away from being open about the fact that they had slept with each other, suddenly making it feel more like reality and less like a dream.

Just as Diavolo was leaning against the wall next to the door, mustering up enough courage to walk through that door, his pointer tapping against the door frame in a jumpy manner, the door flew open and Diavolo jumped out of the way right before he could be hit by the door.

“WHO-” A pissed off Lucifer was staring at him, his expression quickly changing to one of bewilderment as he realized who his visitor was. “Diavolo?”

“Good... evening?”

As Lucifer invited him, his face a blank canvas void of any sort of emotion, Diavolo felt his skin crawl. Whether this was his body telling him that something felt off or his brain trying to stop him from being a fool was unclear.

Distracted by the strange vibe he got, comforted by Lucifer's presence, disturbed by the look in Lucifer's eyes, Diavolo finally found the courage to apologize for his wrongdoings. Of course, it took two to tango -and tango they did- but Diavolo was ever so aware of the fact that all things Lucifer were deeply intricate and seriously complex matters. So as he had done so often before, he told Lucifer the truth by simply leaving out several crucial details.

Per his own rule, he refused to lie. However that didn't mean that he couldn't evade certain unspoken facts.

Lucifer was difficult, Diavolo knew that. They had strenuously built their relationship up from the ashes of a seemingly endless war, had gone from enemies to rescuer and rescuee, to allies, to friends up to something else entirely. And because of that, Diavolo knew he could not tell Lucifer the entire truth.

The relationship they'd had before that certain night had been fine. It had been safe despite those unspoken truths they often found in stolen glances and lingering touches. Diavolo was fine with pining as long as that meant he could keep Lucifer by his side. As long as Lucifer felt comfortable, he would be fine as well. They had been doing this spiel for decades now and Diavolo had gotten quite skilful at figuring out how far he could push their boundaries before they would inevitably crumble to the ground.

This was their little dance, he knew where to step and how to move just as Lucifer knew when to lift his right hand in unison with Diavolo's left one, palms mere inches apart as they slowly spun around each other to the soft tunes of solemn piano music.

Diavolo knew painfully well that the one thing he desperately wanted to say, he could not allow to be heard.

“I need you in my life,” he finally said after having apologized for what had happened. You don't know how much I love you, he conveniently left out.

The air was cleared yet still, Diavolo couldn't shake the undeniable feeling of discomfort prickling up and down his spine. So he did what he knew best; he deflected.

“Oh, Lucifer! This reminds me of this thing I overheard Solomon and Yuuta talking about. I think they called it 'kissing the homies goodnight' ?”

The joke came bubbling out of his mouth before he could properly think about it, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. Lucifer fixed him with a strangely twisted expression. “Please don't even joke about that,” he forced out without any hesitation.

Once again, he twitched and before Diavolo could dismiss it again, he moved without thinking and cupped the back of Lucifer's neck.

There was no logical reason for him to do so, yet somehow, it felt completely and utterly right in the way it made his heart buzz and the palm of his hand tickle.

The moment was over as quickly as it had begun.

Diavolo was hastily sent off by Lucifer and as the door to his study closed behind him, he was able to breathe freely for the first time in days. The sensation of relief did not last for all that long though. As his mind was finally freed from the crushing weight of uncertainty, reality set in.

“Lucifer?” he asked, but received no answer. There was no sound coming from the room whatsoever. Diavolo knocked multiple times in quick succession. “Lucifer?!” he asked, louder this time. Still, he received nothing except for an eerie silence.

An unsettling feeling started to bloom in the pit of his stomach. Throwing any resemblance of caution or appropriateness to the wind, Diavolo pushed the door to Lucifer's study back open.

He felt like his heart was ready to jump out of his chest as he took in the sight of an unresponsive Lucifer lying face-down on the floor. A pool of blood was slowly starting to form around his head, a deadly crimson halo standing in stark contrast against Lucifer's almost sickly looking, ashen skin.

“Lucifer!” Diavolo rushed to his side and carefully turned Lucifer's body around, cradling him with one arm as he pushed his hair aside to inspect the source of the bleeding. There was a big gash across his forehead, blood oozing out of it and dripping down the side of Lucifer's head, landing on the marbled tiles on the ground.

In the middle of his panicked state, Diavolo came to the hasty conclusion that he was an utter buffoon.

Deep down, he had felt uneasy whenever he looked at Lucifer. What he had written off as anxiety due to their broken relationship status, now turned out to be so much more than that. All along, there had been several red flags which Diavolo had foolishly written off as either coincidences or mere trifles.

Diavolo pulled Lucifer closer to his body as the air filled with ashes and embers and he transformed into his demon form. This time, he wouldn't fail Lucifer, he refused to.

He made sure that his grip on Lucifer was strong before he unceremoniously stepped around the desk and kicked in the large window, glass raining down onto the ground like sharpened tears.

Without any hesitation Diavolo, holding onto Lucifer's unconscious body like it was the most precious thing in the world, stepped onto the window sill and leapt off the edge. Big, leathery wings carried the both of them through the glowing lights of dusk.

Diavolo was getting Lucifer the help he so urgently needed and after that, he would find out what was going on with the demon he loved so ferociously.

It was time to face the facts. Diavolo couldn't keep on living in this false state of ignorance anymore. There was something going on with Lucifer, and as his closest friend and superior, it was Diavolo's job to find out exactly what that was.

There was still blood running down Lucifer's terrifyingly pale face as they landed safely next to a hidden cottage in the woods. They must have made quite the sight, the demon prince himself covered in blood, dishevelled by the wind, his right hand man Lucifer cradled in his strong arms, unconscious and certainly unwell.

Diavolo's heart was beating ever so quickly as he knocked on the door, his body coming down from the adrenaline as he waited impatiently.

Finally, he could make out movement from behind the door before there was the sound of a key turning in its lock and a head of pretty red curls peeked through the doorway. “Lord Diavolo?” the woman asked incredulously before her eyes moved downwards and landed on Lucifer's lifeless form.

“Oh gee!” Quickly, she turned her head around and shouted towards someone inside of the house. “Darling, I told you this was going to happen! It's Mister Lucifer, you know, the one from before!” She opened the door and motioned Diavolo to come inside. Diavolo simply followed suit. There would be time to ask questions later. Right now, his priority was Lucifer and nothing else.

A second woman hurried down the hallway, seemingly unimpressed by the picture in front of her as she quickly put on a pair of medical gloves. “Follow me.”

Diavolo followed her into what seemed to be an examination room. Although it was strange this woman had such a room inside of her own home, he decided to keep quiet about it for the moment.

“Put him down.”

Diavolo did as he was told and reluctantly took a step back as Doctor Naamah started to check Lucifer's vitals before treating his head wound. “Normally, I would have to ask you to leave the room, but considering the situation I'll make an exception,” Naamah muttered as she hurried across the room, yanking open several drawers in search of the correct medical supplies.

Diavolo leaned his back against the wall as he focused on the way Lucifer's chest rose and sank with every breath he took.

As he pushed back his hair, breathy laughter escaped his lips. “You couldn't get rid of me if you tried,” he said.

Naamah raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “My Lord, you better not test me.” There was a short moment of silence as she finished treating Lucifer's head wound. “He will be alright,” she started. “He is a fool, but he will be alright.” She beckoned Diavolo closer. “Lend me a hand here, I have to check his sigil.”

Diavolo halted in his steps. “What sigil, doctor?”

Quickly, Naamah's gaze shot upwards. “You don't know?” she asked incredulously. “Aren't you his superior? I made sure to give you a call about it since I put him on MagiMeds.”

He moved closer to Lucifer's body and helped the doctor turn him onto his side as his brain tried to process what had just been revealed to him. “My butler handles these sorts of things,” he eventually muttered.

Naamah pulled Lucifer's collar down as quickly as one would pull off a band aid, revealing a dark red sigil, tainted with splotchy black blots. “Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed in either surprise or shock, Diavolo wasn't too sure which one would've been more appropriate.

His head snapped around to the doctor as she examined the mark with careful fingers. Eventually, she sat up straight and faced Diavolo. “He is even more of a fool than I'd originally expected.”

For once, Diavolo found himself at a loss for words. His eyes were glued onto the alluring sigil on the back of Lucifer's neck. It all made sense now.

Before he could even think about it, his body moved on its own and he reached out, fingertips running along the pretty edges of this tainted sigil.

Naamah watched Diavolo closely as he had eyes for nothing but that ornate little thing on the back of Lucifer's neck. And just as his fingers had reached the epicentre of the sigil, Diavolo could feel a rush of electricity running through his body.

With a startle, Lucifer suddenly and unexpectedly awoke.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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Master of Crows. By Grace Draven. Self Published (?), 2009.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: fantasy romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Master of Crows #1

Summary: What would you do to win your freedom? This is the question that sets bondwoman, Martise of Asher, on a dangerous path. In exchange for her freedom, she bargains with her masters, the mage-priests of Conclave, to spy on the renegade sorcerer, Silhara of Neith. The priests want Martise to expose the sorcerer's treachery and turn him over to Conclave justice. A risky endeavor, but one she accepts without hesitation--until she falls in love with her intended target. Silhara of Neith, Master of Crows, is a desperate man. The god called Corruption invades his mind, seducing him with promises of limitless power if he will help it gain dominion over the world. Silhara struggles against Corruption's influence and searches for ways to destroy the god. When Conclave sends Martise as an apprentice to help him, he knows she's a spy. Now he fights a war on two fronts -against the god who would possess him and the apprentice who would betray him. Mage and spy search together for a ritual that will annihilate Corruption, but in doing so, they discover secrets about each other that may damn them both. Silhara must decide if his fate, and the fate of nations, is worth the soul of the woman he has come to love, and Martise must choose continued enslavement or freedom at the cost of a man's life. And love.

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

Content Warnings: sexual content, blood, magical violence

Overview: After being a little lukewarm on Radiance, I decided to give Grace Draven one more try, mostly because her books seem to be popular on tumblr. I picked up Master of Crows on a whim, and though I think it has more plot than Radiance, the main characters were really not to my taste. For me, Martise was too passive and Silhara was too much of a jerk to be likeable, and the massive power imbalance between the two meant that I didn’t really root for their relationship to succeed. Thus, this book only gets 2 stars from me.

Writing: Draven’s prose is fairly straight-forward. It’s easy to get through and it flows well, giving the reader just enough to know what’s going on. I don’t really have any criticisms for its simplicity because Draven is writing within romance, and the point isn’t to be poetic. Rather, it gets the job done, and I think most readers will appreciate that.

Where I do think I can criticize this book is in the repetition of phrases. More than twice, I saw the term “half mast” used to convey when a character’s eyes were half open, and I think I saw “tattoo” used multiple times to describe a rapid rhythm or tapping. It’s not the biggest deal, but I was definitely pulled out of the story when I noticed these things.

I also think I can criticize Draven for telling us some things that should have been shown. We’re told, for instance, that Silhara isn’t a noble man, that he’s selfish and ambitious, etc. but we’re never really shown scenes of him acting out of ambition or being actually tempted to give in to Corruption’s influence. I would have liked to see Silhara be put in positions where he is making choices or doing things that make the reader think he was susceptible to Corruptions influence. Maybe we see him researching spells for making himself more powerful. Maybe something happens on page with Conclave that is so bad, he starts seriously considering Corruption’s offer to give him revenge. It could be argued that we do get some of that, but it felt like everything was told to us, or happened in the past, and we were expected to absorb it.

Plot: Most of the non-romance plot of this book revolves around Silhara trying to figure out how to destroy the god Corruption while Martise acts as a spy, trying to get some dirt on him so the Conclave (a collection of priests/mages) will have an excuse to kill him. To be honest, I thought the initial premise was a good one; I liked the idea of conflicting loyalties and the eventual shift from enemies (of a sort) to lovers.

However, I do not think this plot was handled well, mainly because Corruption seemed to be a background threat. Multiple times throughout the book, we see Silhara be more or less tormented by the god, whether through dreams that keep him up at night, through disrupting Silhara’s magic abilities, through manifestations, and through temporary possession. While scary, I don’t think these scenes had much lasting impact, which didn’t make Corruption feel like a real threat. If Silhara is being kept awake at night, for example, I want to see scenes where his sleep deprivation gets him in trouble. If his magic is out of control, I want to see scenes where he has to decide whether he wants to risk using it or if he should go through his life without his powers. Something other than Corruption just being a lurking boogeyman that occasionally pops up and becomes a nuisance rather than a real, omnipresent force.

I also think Martise’s plot was a bit weak, mainly because we’re never really shown her having conflicting feelings or arguing with herself about whether or not to give Silhara to the Conclave. Martise is a slave, and her master promises to free her if she can get dirt on Silhara. While fine, the desire for freedom never seemed like a driving force for Martise; we never see her digging through Silhara’s study for potential dirt, of trying to eavesdrop or do other things that would show her actively trying to achieve her goal. Instead, Martise is rather passive, waiting for information to come to her, and she never really wrestles with her life as a slave, not the decision of whether or not to report Silhara once she falls in love with him. I would have liked to see more angst or at least more of an evolution where it felt like Martise had an arc independent of her service or usefulness to Silhara.

Characters: Martise, our heroine, is rather passive and seems to exist mainly to be used. I really didn’t like that she seemed to have no ambition or agency; she mostly waited for things to happen to her, and only shows agency towards the end, when the big showdown happens. Even her “gift” - the magic ability which lays dormant in her until Silhara awakens it - seems to be built around her being a tool to be used, and I was extremely disappointed that her arc didn’t seem to be about empowering her as a woman or as an ex-slave.

Silhara, our hero, is the type of love interest I absolutely hate. He’s extremely powerful, but is a complete jerk to the heroine and commits random violence towards other people out of jealousy. While we’re told over and over again that Martise loves him because he’s a good person at heart, I really didn’t see it. He not only beats up someone who speaks poorly of Martise, but he also seems comfortable ordering her around and treating her as a servant until the very end. The only redeeming qualities he had seemed to be that he doesn’t like people treating women poorly (which, ok, I guess) and he’s kind to his servant, Gurn. Other than that, he’s not an alluring figure.

Side characters were fun, if under utilized. Gurn is Silhara’s mute servant who uses a kind of sign language to communicate. I really liked this character because it inserts some disability representation, and I liked his relationship with Martise. The two seemed to bond over their shared status as servants, and I honestly wish there had been more of an arc or exploration about class with these two. Other characters served their purposes. Cumbria, Martise’s owner, is largely absent, but manages to look bad in every way. He’s not a super compelling antagonist just because he’s not on the page too often, but when he is, I think Draven did a good job not making him over-the-top evil. He’s mostly just greedy and petty, and I wish he had been used more deliberately in conjunction with Silhara’s exile as a commentary on corruption within religious orders. Corruption, the god, is a different story. As I explained in the plot section above, Corruption isn’t much more than a boogeyman, and I got really tired of him really fast.

I’m not sure how to feel, however, about the Kurman people in this book. The Kurmans are a nation/ethnic group/tribe/society with some rather odd gender dynamics. Women can apparently own property and vote, and they are supposedly respected, but they are kept separate from men much of the time, wait on men at feasts, can’t meet men’s eyes unless they want to communicate sexual availability, and so on. It was rather bizarre to me, and I seemed to be getting conflicting ideas about whether or not this society was feminist or not. I also wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be modeled on any real-life ethnic groups or societies; they are described as wearing pointy shoes, having swarthy/dark skin, having multiple wives, etc. so I got the impression that they might have been like Arabs, Mongols, or Ethiopians (due to the food they eat, etc), but if so, I didn’t quite like how Silhara refers to them as “barbarian,” even if it was in jest.

Romance: I couldn’t get on board with this romance. At all. Martise was already too subservient as a character, and while I get that some of this could be a survival technique, it didn’t make sense that Silhara would fall for her based on the ways in which she surprised or challenged him. Because she barely did. She never called Silhara out in any meaningful way and seemed to go along with whatever he wanted until the end.

Most of my discomfort, however, comes from two main issues: 1.) Silhara never seems to put Martise’s well-being first, and 2.) there is a huge power imbalance between the two that isn’t corrected until the very end, and Silhara never seems to be interested in leveling the playing field. First, Martise’s well-being: Silhara constantly offered comments that seemed to tear Martise down or, at the very least, be a back-handed compliment. He never seems to want to find ways of making her happy, and he centers his own desire and well-being even after big things happen. For instance, in a scene where Silhara is temporarily possessed by Corruption, he hurts Martise so badly that she cannot speak (as in, he chokes her almost to blackout). When he is freed from possession, he never seems to care about what he did to Martise or how she might be in pain. Instead, the first thing he does is order Martise to get away from him, then he orders Gurn to look after Martise to make sure she’s ok. All the while, he focuses on his own pain and jokes about his balls (which Martise kicked in order to free herself from his grasp). I was flabbergasted - why wouldn’t you want to make sure for yourself your lover is ok after something like that?

Second, the power imbalance. Even though Silhara doesn’t know Martise is a slave for the majority of the book, he does take her into his household as a servant, and has no qualms about ordering her about or taking advantage of her gentle nature. You’d think that if someone fell in love with a servant, much of the romance would be about overcoming class barriers or finding some way to put the two characters on equal footing. Sometimes, this is done by the lower class person having a sharper wit or calling out the upper class person on things that make them change for the better. Martise and Silhara never seem to have that arc. Martise calls Silhara “Master” throughout the whole book, and Silhara didn’t seem uncomfortable with it except when they were having sex. He never stops presuming to give Martise orders and expecting she obey them, not even at the very end when the question of her freedom gets resolved. And there are books out there where this class barrier is done well (Jane Eyre comes to mind), so I think Draven could have put more work into exploring the dynamics and how Martise is a match for Silhara, even given her status and lack of magic (at least, for a while).

TL;DR: Master of Crows has a good premise, but ultimately suffers from unlikeable or passive protagonists, a weak plot, and a romance with uneven power dynamics.

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himbowelsh · 4 years

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Hi! Can I maybe interest you in the valentines A-Z for our fav radio man George Luz? 🤗

babe you BET you can, i’m always interested in george luz

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

George is... well, to put it simply, he’s a cuddler. He’s a very tactile person, without even thinking about it; casual touches, like squeezing a shoulder or clapping someone’s back comes easily to them, and is a simple way to express his affection. When he really cares for someone, he can get a bit needy --- he needs that same level of physical intimacy and affection. He’s very eager to hold the person he loves, to pull them close and feel their body against his, their heartbeat and breaths matching his own --- but nothing makes him feel better than getting that back.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Honestly? Not a fan. Like, he’ll get his Mama a bouquet for Mother’s Day, but George is more likely to rock up with a gift or giant stuffed animal than a bouquet. There’s something about them... he doesn’t like having to watch flowers wilt and die. It just unsettles him.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He’s not weird about it. Yeah, he likes chocolate, but he won’t go feral over it unlike some Liebgotts out there

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

He’s the sort of guy who has to be kept entertained; his ideal date is definitely an amusement park or a drive-in theatre (beware, he’s definitely seen the movie before and will keep up a running commentary through it). Carnivals? Oh, heck yes, count him in. Fireworks show? Please. Give George a fun and colorful setting, the opportunity to show off a bit, and a fun partner who can keep up with him... that’s the perfect date.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Yes, he loves hugs! He thrives on hugs! Again, George is fueled by physical intimacy. His hugs are very steady, very earnest, and sometimes cling a bit too much... but whenever he lets go, there’s sincere emotion on his face, and anyone can see how much he means it.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Oh yeah, he’s definitely a flirt, but it’s not something he can help! He’s just... got one of those faces, okay? That smirk alone flirts without trying. When George is actually trying, he’s definitely able to keep the mood of the party light; if he’s drawn to someone, he’ll joke around with them, but if they seem to respond in kind, then the flirting begins in earnest. He won’t throw himself down on the table in front of them... but winks, smirks, casual touches? It’s all there, baby.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Gift giving is an art, and George Luz has honed it. He just... remembers things about people. Innocuous things, small comments, major life events, he remembers all of it, and keeps it stored away for a later date. He’s given his fair share of joke gifts, but when he gives something with sincerity in mind, it’s always somehow the perfect thing. George gives people gifts they didn’t even realize they needed.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

Honestly, he’s quicker than he should be, and he knows it. George... wants to be loved. He needs attention and affection like he needs air. So when he falls for someone, he definitely falls hard, and there’s no way to really stop that trajectory. A part of him doesn’t trust himself, because he knows that’s a great way to get his heart broken.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He definitely thinks it way before he actual says it. George Luz, keeping a thought to himself? Inconceivable! But the fact is, George is shy about saying it... because he’s scared he might not hear it back. His partner would have to say it first... and from that moment on, there’s no stopping him. George loves saying “I love you”. He tosses it out at random times, in casual and meaningful moments alike, just to hammer the point home --- saying it often doesn’t make it any less true.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

He... can get a little insecure at times, so yeah, if he sees someone else flirting with his partner, he won’t like it, and will definitely try to break it up ASAP. Not with fists --- a little charm and a well-placed wisecrack can work wonders.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Oh gosh, yes. George is... the sort of kisser you wake up in a cold sweat about. He knows what he’s doing, and this is something he’s actually really confident about: George Luz is a damn great kisser. This is the one time he actually shuts his mouth, and puts it to work instead. Just the right amount of tongue, and touch, and teeth... while he’s definitely a bit of a tease, George knows what he’s doing, and exactly how to get his partner’s heart pounding. His biggest flaw is his habit of grinning during kisses, which... ends with bashing teeth together usually, not a fun time. Then he’ll start laughing, the mood is broken, and he’s gotta take a moment.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

His entire family --- and George has a massive family. All his friends --- and he has so many friends, seriously. The funny clerk at the grocery store who always gives him a discount; the nice old ladies down at the bingo club who talk about their grandkids a lot; the neighbor whose leaky roof he fixed who couldn’t actually pay him, but gave him an entire pie. George has so much love to give, it sometimes physically hurts.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

Morning George has bedhead, and Nighttime George has at least had a chance to run a comb through it, so he’s more confident in his ability to impress at night.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

“Naughty” is a good word for it. George is a tease; he likes to have fun, and does not want sex to be an intimidating experience for anyone. He’ll be the first one to admit that he messes around too much, but it’s just to cover up the insecurities he feels deep down (and also, when he’s nervous he sometimes doesn’t know how to Turn It Off). He’s a talker during sex. If he’s not making an inappropriately-timed joke, compliments are probably spilling from his mouth, like he’s not even sure what he’s saying. You have to actively work to shut him up... and even then, he’s still pretty loud. He’ll definitely be able to make his partner laugh, but when he gets to teasing, he can be absolutely unbearable. If the other person takes control --- which, holy shit, drives George absolutely wild --- it’s super easy to get under George’s skin, because he’s sensitive in a lot of places. When he goes over the edge, he goes over the edge hard... it takes a while for him to recover, and sometimes he’s left dizzy for a few minutes. Aftercare is very important, and another thing he absolutely loves.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

He’s got a smart mouth and the inability to shut up. That’s almost the same thing.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Personality, absolutely. Whoever George falls for has to be able to snare him. He needs a little excitement, someone to keep him on his toes --- definitely someone with a great laugh. If they can make him laugh too, that’s a bonus; he’d love someone with a smart mouth. And kindness is super important --- he definitely wants someone who’ll go out of their way to help others out, even if it puts them at a disadvantage. (He has a thing for green or brown eyes, they just get him. Curly hair? Excellent, fun to run his fingers through. But he is... genuinely not picky whatsoever.)

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Oh, he wants to do it. Absolutely. He’s got a plan and everything. Multiple plans. Many of them are elaborate and involve pyrotechnics with the strong potential for disaster, but... eh, it’ll probably be fine. If no one dies during the proposal, it’s a great omen for the relationship!

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He thinks of himself as... a practical romantic. Like, he’s not all butterflies and Disney ballads, but there’s a very strong streak in him that’s eager to be loved and have someone to dote on in return. When George is falling in love, he’s all about seizing romantic, spontaneous moments when they arise --- any way possible for him to show it.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

He didn’t slow down long enough, to be honest. Lil Georgie was an energy ball. I could see him having some crushes on a few other kids, especially as he grew a bit older and middle school hormones happened, but he was no Baby Romeo.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

He... believes in love. True love isn’t something he’s ever really thought about, because the idea’s always seemed kind of silly to him, like something out of a kid’s story. Love is love.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

He’s been rejected plenty of times, but nothing’s ever truly shattered him. George bounces back quickly.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

“Stupid. Commercial garbage. Not even a holiday, why do we need it? Anyways, I booked us a dinner at eight at that restaurant you love, and don’t look under your pillow ‘cause there’s definitely not chocolate there ---”

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

It’s not, like... the be-all-end-all of his happiness, and if his partner didn’t want to, he’d be cool with that. Yeah, he’d personally really like to get married and start a family, but... more than anything, he wants someone who’ll stay. You don’t absolutely need a ring for that.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

He will absolutely make up goofy pet names for his loved ones to tease them, and likes to get creative with them. Nicknames come easy to George, and are always affectionate --- he jokes that he’s got so many nieces and nephews that no way can he remember all their names, but he’s got a nickname for each one and remembers those without even trying.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

He can be, if he feels like a person he cares about is being threatened! If George sees a loved one in a tight spot, he’d going to jump in real quick. He won’t get immediately confrontational, that’s not his style... but he’ll be there, at their backs, ready to step in if needed. His go-to move is an arm around his loved one’s shoulders, with a grin and a too-cheerful “we got a problem here?”

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

Like... he’s no nymphomaniac, but if he can, he will. Consent is very important to him, and he’s very in tune with his partner’s feelings, so he’ll only do it if both parties are firmly on board... but if someone’s interested in him, and he’s in the mood? Sign him up and pin him down.

#george luz is the definition of power bottom energy sorry not sorry #george luz #band of brothers #headcanons

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

Text

AWAE 2x7 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

This was pretty much my favourite episode of the entire series before season 3 came along, so I’m really excited to watch it again. Let’s dive in:

Ok, that was a really weird (and short) cold open. I don’t really know what to say. Moving on.

Seriously, what just happened to Marilla? And how often has it been happening?

Yeah, as if Phillips would give extra lessons to anyone but Prissy. Also, Gilbert is right about him not caring much about teaching. People like Phillips have no place being teachers.

Bringing up Gilbert’s father, whose passing I’m pretty sure he’s aware of? How dare he? I hate that dirt-bag excuse of a man.

Oh, you’re going to the ball, dear Cinderella... I mean, you are going to the party, dear DiAnne! And you’ll be bringing someone else, too.

Speaking of someone else, poor Cole is still struggling with his art after Billy’s horrendous deed. Emotionally, mostly. But burning his drawings is not the answer. Never.

‘Cole is a man!’ Yes he is, that’s what I’ve been saying for I don’t know how long now. I’m glad someone’s finally noticed. I’ve got to say this scene reminded me a tiny bit of HP and the Goblet of Fire where Ron finally realised Hermione was a girl. But it’s different. In a good way, of course.

I love their, well, Anne’s, plan so much. I just do and I don’t really know why. But Marilla’s worsening headaches and her calling Matthew ‘Michael’ are worrying me so much. The Cuthberts do have their own trauma, they do. It seems everyone does in this series.

Of course Matthew allows it. In Matthew we trust. They’re going! Of course, I knew they were, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting. See, that’s the thing about favourites - they make you feel the same emotions every time that they did the first time you experienced them. And isn’t that the most wonderful thing?

Marilla seems to be reminded of her own childhood and how she didn’t have the chance to experience such wonderful things as Anne gets to. But Anne’s had her share of traumatic experiences. She deserves this.

Hero is right. Cole is one and he’ll get back to his art soon enough. And he’s just arrived in what will end up being his new home thanks to the amazing Aunt Josephine.

Anne’s finally realised what Josephine had with Gertrude and her reaction is absolutely lovely. I knew it would be. In fact, I knew it the very first time I watched it. Here’s a note I wrote to myself all the way back then: Anne is so open- minded and finds it all but strange that aunt Josephine had a romantic relationship with Gertrude, while Diana’s conservative upper-class upbringing seems to get in her way of accepting it… but she’ll get around to it. What I really would like, however, is that Cole would eventually come out to Anne first, I mean they confide in each other in a way few others do, and she’s, at least the way I see it, the best person to come out to considering how she views Josephine and Gertrude’s relationship.

The party looks so beautiful, it makes me want to draw it. I probably will - just like I did last week with Diana the magnificent fairy queen. This show is so inspiring. In fact, my first ever drawing that I posted here was based on this episode and this party. Here’s a link: https://pluviophile-bookworm.tumblr.com/post/187379899979/i-dont-really-draw-but-i-was-just-rewatching-my Hey, this also means I’ve seen this episode more times than any other AWAE episode! It’s clearly my favourite - well, now it’s second to 3x5, but we’ll see what happens when I rewatch that one.

‘If it were agreeable to my husband’... poor Diana really needs more of her aunt’s influence. How lovely it would be for her to become a pianist... or a scholar, or what she desires. Not necessarily a wife unless it’s to someone she truly loves and who truly loves her.

The girl with the pixie cut who complimented Anne’s might have just made her day. At least it would have made mine.

If these people calling Cole ‘farm boy’ did something good, it must have been decorating him with their scarves and pearls. I love this look on him.

If not pixie-cut girl, Sunflower-man made Anne’s day and I’m so glad something finally did. If someone could only tell her how beautiful she looks...

I feel like I would have loved Gertrude if I had known her... and that woman who said she and Jo were her romantic ideal... there should be more like her in the world.

Josephine and Cole dancing together warms my heart so much! And what warms it even more is knowing they’ll be a family, a loving, beautiful found family as they both deserve. I’m not crying, you are.

Poor Marilla is still struggling with her past and her headaches, and Matthew is trying to do the best he can to help, but there’s not much to be done when one refuses to be helped. And dear Matthew seems to have trauma of his own. ‘Doesn’t she love us too?’ Heartbreaking.

Marilla’s thinking of Anne like a true mother, and though it breaks my heart when she says ‘I won’t be a burden to Anne.’, it also warms it to think she feels so responsible for her new daughter.

I wish dear Diana would be more accepting of her aunt...s. I suppose they were both her aunts in a way. In their own way they were married after all.

The artist who reassures Cole means so much to me for it. And the way she seems to know Anne after only having met her for a while... also, ‘Cole the artist’ - yes, he is that. I love that woman although I don’t even know her. She made Cole smile for the first time this evening.

I’m just imagining Anne in her puff sleeves and a top hat... magnificent. I might try to draw that sometime.

Oh, Diana, just because something is kept secret doesn’t mean it’s wrong! It might just be that people aren’t ready for it yet, and I’m sad for the people. Not for Jo and Gertrude. Not for Cole. For those who aren’t ready to accept that love is love in all shapes and forms.

‘broken, defective, unnatural...’ is that what Cole thinks about himself? I so hope it’s not. And I so hope he finds a man someday who makes him feel like Jo and Gertie had. He deserves it.

Here’s a note on this next moment from the time I saw it first: Oh my, oh my! He came out to Josephine first! I think it’s just as beautiful as had it been Anne, and the way he spoke of it to Anne and Diana first, although he didn’t confess anything, was so beautiful, deep and meaningful. Seriously, the way this series portrays things that are ahead of their time in the chronological context of the plot... that is so beautiful that I can’t even describe it… Anne with an E is my aesthetic… and one of the reasons I rediscovered my fondness of the colour orange which I previously disliked… just… so deep and aesthetically elevating. Ok, that last part had nothing to do with Cole or Josephine or coming out, but it’s truly what I think and it belongs here.

Matthew finally speaks up and it’s so powerful when a quiet person raises their voice. ‘She had other children. We all lost Michael.’

‘You missed me?’ But of course she did, she’s your mother now. I love the found family trope. And Marilla looks lovely with that flower crown.

‘[Love] can come in so many forms.’ This series teaches the proper values. I love it for that. #renewannewithane

‘The good doctor’. However demeaningly this was meant to be, it describes Gilbert so perfectly, and his response (‘and I managed to learn that with no extra time from you.’) was so absolutely great. Thanks, I love it.

‘You’ll get there, if you know where your passions lead you.’ That was a beautiful underrated Shirbert moment.

The pen of possibility. How lovely. This episode ended on just the right not and it’s just such a favourite of mine, I don’t even know what more to say. let’s just end here. Roll the recaps.

Let’s sum up: Marilla has headaches and flashbacks; Anne’s pen of duplicity concocts the perfect lie... fib; Cole struggles to get back into art; ‘Cole is a man!’ and so he and Anne and Diana get to go to Aunt Josephine’s party; Josephine and Gertrude are a romantic ideal; the perfect summer soiree in the middle of winter; Cole the farm-boy goes back to being Cole the artist thanks to a mysterious sculptor woman at the party; he comes out to Josephine, then to Anne and Diana; love is beautiful in every shape and form; the good doctor shoots for the stars on his own, thank you very much, Phillips (not!); the pen of possibility.

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freedom-of-fanfic · 6 years

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I'm kind of torn on the Mary Sue issue. On one hand, I don't care what anyone writes for their own amusement, but writing is still an art that does and should have standards for professionals. As someone who has degrees in writing and does it as a profession, it's a little insulting to be told that the work your poured tons of research and time into is on the same level as amateur self-insert fic. That's why I advocate for different standards for fandom vs pro work.

I feel you, anon. and I have a lot of respect for people like you who got degrees and write professionally, because words are held rather cheap with the internet being around and anyone who can get paid to write words impresses me to some degree. but:

I’ve always felt like comparing fanfic and original fiction to be not exactly congruous? and

I think Mary Sue suffers from maligning because she’s disproportionately evoked by the youngest/least experienced of writers.

this got … pretty long … so i’m dividing it up a little for ease.

the concept of ‘standards’

first of all, I also advocate for different standards between published/professional/marketed works and fan works, but I do so because of 1)potential spread and 2)they aren’t accomplishing the same thing.

In general, a fanwork will have limited appeal outside of the fans of the canon the work is based in; they cannot stand on their own without some additional effort. Further, fandom has its own language to some degree or another, and fanworks are frequently best understood in the context of other fanworks, like scientific papers citing other scientific papers in passing because the audience is expected to be other scientists in the field who have read it. In other words: the audience is probably fairly niche and in on the ‘lingo’. its potential damage circle is therefore relatively small. if somebody fucks up their research for a fic, it’s nbd, for instance.

On the other hand, an original work with a professional marketing team will certainly reach a much more diverse audience and probably a much larger one. It’s therefore responsible, imo, to be proportionately aware of the potential impact of the subject material and approach it accordingly (though true fiction will always have an unpredictable effect on any given individual, so there’s only so much the creator can do). I’d expect accuracy where research was done, if for no other reason than to avoid spreading false information to such a big potential audience.

and of course I’d hope that if somebody is being paid to write, their grammar/prose/proofreading will meet a certain standard of readability. (the same cannot be expected of free works done for fun that take a few minutes to post on the internet.)

having said that: standards for quality fiction writing will always be subjective. I’m always going to have questions about why The Sound and the Fury is an American classic (I couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard I tried). What gets published can be as simple as having good luck with the slush pile reader that day. I’ve seen fanfiction complimented with incredible research: there’s a Tokyo Babylon work-in-progress with an author who has traveled to fic-relevant locales to nail story and character details. I feel the line is blurring these days, especially because there are people who make a living off writing commissioned fanfiction now (too small-scale to be an IP concern, of course).

I think the fundamental difference between fanworks and original works is not quality of the work itself or effort expended. It’s related to structure and aim.

Fanworks, even AU fanworks, are like interior decoration. A 'good fanwork’, even an AU fanwork, works within a pre-built framework to elaborate on or add to or evoke what drew its audience to the framework in the first place.

Original works build a whole new house, creating a new framework from bare construction materials to draw in and house the emotions of its readers. (and then maybe its readers decorate the house with their own fanfic.)

tl;dr: if an AU fanfic was so different from canon and the characters were so OOC that the author can shave the serial numbers off and repurpose it as an original story, it might be a great original work. But it wasn’t a very good fanfic, was it?

why is mary sue so offensive to us?

I don’t know if you’ve ever read the post Mary Sue, What Are You?, but what I keep coming back to is its iconic opening. the author describes an OC at length: orphaned as a child when her parents were killed in front of her, she decided she would dedicate her life to fighting for justice. She grew up to be rich, athletic, beautiful, sexy, angsty, a genius, undefeatable in a battle of wits and agility, and everyone who meets her is instantly lovestruck. In other words, a classic Mary Sue …

but also Batman with female pronouns.

I think one could argue that Batman is not always well-written, but the relevant point here is that Batman - and Mary Sue - might be 99.9% perfection in the shape of a human around whom the universe revolves, but if its their own canon and the universe doesn’t recognize their perfection the way the reader/writer does, it’s not really 'bad’. (And there’s something to be said about why giving this power fantasy male pronouns seems to render it so much more palatable than female pronouns, but for more on that I point you to the referenced essay.)

Your ask is worded to suggest that Mary Sue is synonymous with unprofessional writing. I … kind of agree? Mary Sue is frequently the main character of Baby’s First Fanfic, and let’s be real: Baby’s First Fanfic is often being written by somebody who might be as young (or younger than) 12-13 years old, with all the inexperience, grammar mistakes, and lack of training that suggests. and as far as characterization goes, I think that anyone who takes decent writing classes will be discouraged from writing a Mary Sue. But like Batman, Mary Sue can be a perfect princess and get away with it under certain circumstances.

I posit that Mary Sue characters (or Gary Stus) - whom I will call Flawless OCs from here - are not really a problem on their own. Further, Flawless OC is more agregious in fanfic than original works. Because what makes the Flawless OC so irritating isn’t their perfection, really: it’s what the character’s presence must do to the universe (which is, in the case of fanfic, the universe the reader came to experience in the first place) that’s the real problem.

To show what a good fighter Flawless OC is, they defeat the best canon fighter.

Flawless OC has a backstory more tragic and painful than the most tragic canon backstory, and they cope with the trauma of it better.

There’s no room for Flawless OC because canon wasn’t holding a spot open for a self-insert, so now there’s a 6th Lion or a 10th Fellowship member or a Second Child Who Survived Voldemort.

The entire universe bends to ensure Flawless OC has perfect luck; their enemies are helpless before them. Everything seems to go their way except in the chapter where the their love interest is supposed to rescue them from danger. (the rescue goes flawlessly, of course.)

Depending on the author wish that Flawless OC is meant to fulfill, Flawless OC will defeat any undefeatable enemy, solve the unsolveable problem, be the envy or lust object of any character, etc etc, often without regard for the original context of the enemy/problem or the canon personality of the character.

In short, Flawless OC usually have two major issues:

they render canon irrelevant to glorify Flawless OC, and

the universe constantly validates their choices to a degree that wrecks narrative suspense.

what makes each of these things 'bad writing’ is different.

The first problem I mentioned - warping of mythos, plot, and characters to accomodate the Flawless OC - is a fanfic problem. Canon-warping absolutely allowed, but what makes it fanfic - the canon source that acts as our shared experience and usually our main reason for being a potential audience to the fic - is almost always nigh-unrecognizable. That makes for bad fanfiction, but it doesn’t always make for bad fiction. Change all the parts of canon enough and you’ve arguably got an original work. It might even be a good original work if the author has writing skill.

The second problem - the validation of the universe - is what makes Flawless OC a dull read in any context. If Flawless OC wants something, you know they’ll get it. If Flawless OC hates someone, you know they’re going to catch hell. If Flawless OC needs to be vulnerable for their love interest, something just bad enough to make them vulnerable will befall them. The perfection of the OC is less of an issue than the lack of meaningful conflict. (A character can have no faults and still be interesting to follow if they must struggle against a universe that doesn’t care.)

to wit:

there’s a fantasy book by David and Leigh Eddings - The Redemption of Althalus - that I read long ago. it stuck with me to a peculiar degree because for a book with such a unique conceit, it was incredibly boring. This is published fiction: it had editors, a marketing team, and was written by professionals with lots of experience! But looking back, none of this saved the story from featuring Gary Stu in a universe that catered to his every need.

The main character, Althalus, is ostensibly a person in need of redemption for being such a bad person all his life and never punished for it, but he’s a loveable, quick-witted rogue almost from the start. To 'redeem’ himself, he’s tasked with saving the world from Enemies (we’re told they’re evil, but I don’t think we see them more than once or twice). Protected by the Goddess of Luck - literally - for the entire novel, there’s never a single moment where Althalus’ victory over the Enemy is in question. He never does anything really awful that would explain his need to be redeemed (in fact, it turns out the Luck Goddess is the one who protected him from punishment all his life). The enemy is weak, forgettable, and constantly outwitted, and the protagonists, supposedly people of gray morality, never did anything worse than be snarky.

The unique conceit that kept me reading was the House at the End of the World. Being the home of the Goddess, it had doors that opened to anywhere on the planet. but for an idea with such double-edged possibilities, it turned out to be an impregnable fortress of Good. The House and its owner were the forces that bent the whole book’s universe to the inevitable triumph of the main character and his companions.

A counter-example might be Miraculous Ladybug. I’ve often wondered if Mary Sue could be written well and be likeable, and Marinette - the titular Ladybug - is probably close. She’s good at almost everything and always outwits her enemies; even when she seems confident to the point of arrogance, it’s justified by her endless successes. (Her only real flaw is being clumsy when she’s distracted, and it only happens when it’s conveniently cute. this is a walking Mary Sue cliche.) Her power is to be lucky, after all.

However: even though everything ends up right for Marinette at the end of every episode, she’s not rewarded when she acts poorly towards others. She causes herself problems when she does. Her luck powers give her the ability to bend the universe a little, but the universe is otherwise unforgiving; she’s subjected to the same banalities as everyone else and learns to be a better person along the way.

OTOH if you put Ladybug in another canon with a makeover to recast her as Flawless OC, changing everything so she could occupy a central role like the one she has in her own series, she’d be insufferable: hence Ladybug is a solid example of how a Mary Sue can prosper provided she’s in a universe designed to both feature her and contain her powers for the sake of Good.

I apologize for how long a reply this is. Still: I hope it successfully illustrates for you that:

though original writing and fanfic writing use the same tool (words), and both can use them masterfully, what original writers like you do and what fic writers do are, in general, very different things.

And Mary Sue is what you make of her. In the right universe, she’s just a very lucky person. :)

#in defense of mary sue #in defense of fanfic #origific vs fanfic #fandom meta #miraculous ladybug #david eddings #i think i read that book because I liked some other book of his #but wow it was a dull read #I kept waiting for everything to fall apart #but it didn't #anywho #long post #y ik es #Anonymous

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