(Untitled)
Written for tinderblast's February Challenge, which was basically about magic & porn in the Wizarding World. As such, warnings for Fleur/Gabrielle incest, snuff films & general porn-type ideas. Though, as with all my fics, it is sadly lacking in the hardcore
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You have a gift for weaving such painfully delicate images, such sweetly poisonous things, that the reader is left shivering and unable to breathe.
Examples:
'... grass growing over her body in tender green tendrils...'
'... noiseless summer blue...'
'... a white fracture in the sky...'
The only thing that held me up, ironically, was: 'In a world of illusion some things must be real.' I stopped and stared at that for a few minutes--really, P, you should know better than to go all existential on me in fics!--and with statements like that I just want to go off somewhere and ponder for a long time. Luckily, Fleur's red mouth and the warmth of her pulse kept me reading. (Philosophy proposes, beauty disposes.)
And the silent intensity of what these sisters share--the addiction to death, to dying, to illusion, to each other, and the flawless but nonetheless marked transition from the smooth, almost smoky ephemerality of Fleur's half-deaths as opposed to her real one... I love how you wrote the last scene, rougher around the edges, thirsting for contact--rough stone and rough kisses here, not the sensual swish of silk. I can taste cigarette smoke and grief in my mouth--although with Gabrielle it isn't even grief, is it--it's--it's--hunger--and a sense of lacking. That deep dark hollow hunger she seeks to fill with a simulacrum...
Oh, I don't know. I'm taking too much out of this, aren't I? But this, this:
'... and she’s leaning so casually against her own headstone and Gabrielle pushes her back against it with a rough kiss.'
Ah. Ah. Startlingly erotic, and so very real (as I've said above) compared to what has come before. The 'rough' kiss says so many things--it speaks for Gabrielle's anger, her hunger, her grief, her longing, her need...
Very beautiful, very gauzily written, turning gritty just at the right moment, at the end, when even these silken sisters must face consequences.
And who needs to be explicit when you've got this? If I had this, I wouldn't change it for the world. Not for the world.
That is her cue: she opens her pretty red mouth and says, "Say die and I will die. Say die and watch me die...
Arsenic that's sweet as chocolate, my dear. Wow.
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*writhes in guilt*
I'll... try to review properly one day, I promise. But I'm just... I can't handle it right now. Especially not after having a similar nightmare a few nights ago. Aargh.
... That's a compliment, by the way. Few stories can actually scare me. Yours did.
*shivers and backs away from all the bones*
Oh, and--you seem not to have noticed this, but I wrote a strange Parvati/Padma fic a while ago, and dedicated it to you, Berne and Sinope. Er. I hope you don't mind having something so awful dedicated to you... I'm still fixing it up, if that's any consolation.
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And. OMG. Thanks for pointing it out. Have been terrible about reading the flist of late, but that should change thanks to the wonder of filters. *goes off to read*
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