#*that* chapter in broken throne has me fucked up dude

[snakerdoodlle]

It’s nearly 2 AM and I’m literally crying over Cal and Maven rn

The way Cal defended Maven and stood by him until the very end, being the only person who still loved him despite everything. Cal hanging on to any kind of hope for his brother that he could, searching desperately for someone that could possibly help him. Cal putting off the inevitable for as long as possible, never wanting to give Maven a death sentence but being forced to by the court/Scarlet Guard with so much regret behind it. Cal knowing that it’s not Maven’s fault. Cal blaming himself for years and years for never seeing what was happening to his baby brother, and for never shielding him from his mother. Cal going to Maven’s body first when finding him and Mare. Cal burying Maven on Tuck with the hopes that maybe at last, the broken, lost boy he knew could finally have peace. He promises he’ll always keep Maven with him, he’ll never let him go, never let him be forgotten in his memories. He gave Maven a proper headstone, he made sure his brother could have what little honor he was able to offer. It also basically served as Cal’s final message. Cal will always love Maven, he will always regret what happened, he will always wish he could’ve changed things, he will always have guilt weighing on his shoulders, even if it eases with time. Cal will never abandon Maven like so many others.

And then the way Maven spared Cal the final blow, letting Cal believe he was truly gone despite it being a lie. He hurt Cal just to save him the much worse pain it’d have caused him if he knew the truth. Cal would’ve done anything to try and save Maven if only he’d known, and Maven was aware and didn’t want Cal to go through that. They both knew nothing would’ve come of it, but none of that mattered to Cal ever. He would’ve been willing to do anything.

I am so unbelievably emotional over these two brothers good god

[the-passenger-if]

heya! sorry if this has been asked before, but i couldn't find it thanks to crappy tumblr... but do you have any fave WIP's? i'm currently looking for new stuff to play. kinda broaden my horizon XD and since i love your game, maybe you have a similar taste as me?? thanx!

Hey there :3

Yeah of course, there are a lot of really good ones, but my top ones are heavily character driven and most of them have awesome ROs

List of WIPs in no particular order.

SUPERHEROES/SUPERHERO-ADJACENT:

Freak: Amidst the Neon Lights. TW: a scientist is creepily gross towards MC.

From the author’s fingers: A fish out of water tale.

A young isolated MC without a ‘voice’ grows up in a lab poked prodded and tested for eighteen years finds themselves thrown into the chaotic world of powers and abilities beyond human kine. They will have an adventure that will define who they are and make an impact in a world they never knew existed.

RO after my own heart: Mh. No one really, but  the MC and Silic are awesome.

WIP state: On hiatus

------

Model Citizens: Unmasked

From the author's fingers: It’s a story about a world full of heroes with odd and amazing powers! But… you’re not one of them. You don’t have powers, and you don’t plan to go and fight crime. No, you’re just a model, everyday citizen. A reporter, in fact, tied into the events of heroes but never really a part of them

Except for one (well, two, but thats already said and done), little exception.

You work for The Nickelport Rust, a controversial paper known for one reason and one reason only.

Unmasking heroes.

RO after my own heart: V. and Ricky (with a special mention to Lucy)

WIP state: On hiatus

------

Fallen Hero: Retribution

Enough said--also, Malin didn't write a summary for this one n_n"

RO after my own heart: Ortega. I would romance Steel and Argent too.

WIP state: Malin is running a closed alpha

SUPERNATURAL:

SoS: The Mortal Coil. This one and The ORPHEUS Ruse were big inspirations for The Passenger as discussed here.

From the author's fingers: Archangels were designated to serve the whims of their God. As Gabriel, you wield power and influence in Heaven. Yet your God, silent for centuries, has given you an order, one unlike any other you have received. You are to raise a satanspawn on earth, living in secret as a mortal. play as the archangel, Gabriel. Your cover is that of a junior detective with the Major Crimes division of JCPD. It’s supposed to be a straightforward protection detail.

But things rarely go according to plan.

Will you stay loyal to Heaven and their rules or will you play it fast and loose? Will you try to seize the throne or find your place on Earth? Will the satanspawn prove to be beyond saving or will you raise him to be a beacon of hope?

Work with the various supernatural factions in one of the few cities that is neutral in the war between Heaven and Hell. Fall in love, solve a few cases, and discover if your past will define your future.

RO after my own heart: Michael. That fucking brat.

WIP state: On hiatus

ADVENTURE:

Diaspora. You guys... Diaspora. If you're into Dragon Age, Diaspora is a must.

From the authors' fingers: it’s about a clan of people forced to flee their homeland and establish themselves elsewhere in the world. The Cine, of which the PC is a part, are traditionally a raiding culture, accustomed to theft and piracy as a way of life, meaning that few will welcome them as neighbors. Throughout the story, the PC will have opportunities to shape the perception of their clan, as well as the direction their people will take with their new settlement. Will you stick to traditional values at the steep diplomatic cost that may entail? Or, against the advice of your clan’s leadership and some of your close friends, will you try to change the very fate of the Cine, their role in the world around them?

RO after my own heart: Pan. There's no words to describe how much I love this magnificent bastard. They are my favorite RO ever too and a big inspiration for some of Roach's mannerisms.

WIP state: Kiku and August work on it whenever they have time but I would say it's pretty active for a WIP this big.

------

Relics of the Lost Age. TW: for people being bigots; it has nazis, it has the kkk, you can punch them in the face tho :3

From the author's fingers: The game is basically a fun (I hope), swashbuckling Indiana Jones-em-up, in which you play as a 1930s archaeologist trying to locate a number of occult artifacts before various nasty types can get their hands on them. There will be high adventure in far-flung corners of the world, wacky stunts, Nazi-punching, the possibility of romance (4 possible ROs in total, although you don’t meet them all in Chapter 1), loss, betrayal and all kinds of good stuff along those lines. Give it a go; you never know, you might like it!

I've never watched an Indiana Jones film in my entire life, but this game kicks ass and its author is a very intelligent person and also a sweetheart. Go say hello!

RO after my own heart: Not a RO but I'm crossing my fingers for Maria Garcia Perez. Yes, mama, call me a dumbass and kick me in the face.

WIP state: Active. The Prof is a word-spurting beast :O

ANYTHING BY THOMB, REALLY:

But the WIP i'm following at the moment is the third book in the Evertree Saga, Lux: City of Secrets

From the author’s fingers: continuing the story that began with Evertree Inn and Sordwin. In this fantasy adventure, you return once again as an investigator of magical mysteries, this time exploring the many twisting tales of a city full of secrets. Can you balance all the commitments of your new life in the big city and rise above, or will you become just another nameless face in the crowd?

Also, Thom is truly a sweetheart.

RO after my own heart: Dandy. Dandy Dandy Dandy. (this one is a gender-flip and his female counterpart is Daisy)

WIP state: Active. Thom has 3 titles under their belt, they know what they're doing.

SLASHER HORROR:

Monsters. So so cool, also so so full of triggers--a character is super homophobic and a racist, other dude may hit a female MC in the face if he doesn't like what she's saying, so bear that in mind. I don't feel like the author was trying to be edgy, tho, he's just playing with old horror tropes and these people aren't supposed to be likeable anyways. If you like horror that's kind of Texas-Chainsaw-Massacry, this is a good one.

From the author's fingers: First off: This game contains ADULT CONTENT!!! It is a psychological survival horror, and intentionally contains content which some readers may find offensive. There’s a proper disclaimer in-game. But the warning is there. I’m choosing not to describe the content of the game because, honestly, I want it to be a surprise to anyone who has not read it but is intrigued. I want you to not know what to expect. wink

RO after my own heart: Nobody, but they are interesting to chat to.

WIP state: On hiatus.

OTHERS I ENJOYED A LOT:

Wilhelmina

The Wayhaven Chronicles: Book Two

Through Broken Lenses. TW: so much abuse. Tread with care.

The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia: Part One

Fox of Sunholt

Supernatural in New York

Good Intentions. TW: I think this one may be triggering too, but I don't quite remember the specifics, sorry.

What a Brilliant Existence!

Spellbound: A Ghost Story

Seven days in purgatory

Burwick Destination: Book One

A Cage of Mist and Shadow

Please remember to pay attention to the last time WIPs were updated, you don’t want to necrobump a thread.

[blackypanther9]

Part 8 - Loss and pain to go through...

Loki's POV....

I rode there as quick as I could. I needed to ask her so many things. How did she do, all those years ? Why did she got banished to exile ? Why didn't her friends meet with me anymore with time ? What did she do ? All these questions...and no answers ! After 15 minutes I was in her room alone and waited that she wakes up. After that I need to talk with Odin...I need to know something... I need to know, if I am cursed or something...

"Ugh..."

She wakes up !

Your POV....

Am I dead ? No. I felt pain in my body... What a dream...Odin took me back and Thor and Loki were there and Thor was such a jerk, Loki attractive...god, Laufey would kill me, if I told him about it...

"Ugh..."

Someone grabbed my hand, Laufey I guess.

"Laufey...you would never guess what a twisted dream I had... I dreamed that I saw my childhood friend, Loki, again and he had longer hair... and then this jerk, Thor. Big mouth, arrogant and just an ass. And war would be between us and Asgard again, because of that little dumbass... I mean what a weird dream is that ? Eh ?"

I giggled, still eyes closed, Laufey didn't respond. I stopped laughing.

"Gee...cat caught your tongue ? It was just a dream. Did I took your breath away or something ?"

Silence.

"Laufey ?"

I opened my eyes and didn't saw Laufey, instead I saw Loki. I sat up quick and jerked back.

"No.... I am still in my dream... this didn't happen in real... Did it ?"

Loki looked at me, then at the ground.

"It happened in real. You passed out, because of too much bloodloss, at the gate and Heimdall brought you here, as fast as he could."

I stared at him.

"That means... I am home again ?"

"Yes, that means you are home again."

"Shit..."

"You...aren't happy ?"

"No ! I hate Asgard... Odin banished me from here, my friend died here, my parents were here, my cat I had was here and I am hated here, because I get pushed into something, I had never done ! And now, Laufey hates me too, because you idiots didn't leave and I didn't want you to die back there !!!! Thanks for nothing !"

I screamed at my best, childhood, friend. It felt good, but also wrong. He didn't do anything to me and he wanted to go. I calmed down. Loki still stared at the ground, frowning.

"I am sorry, Loki. You didn't do anything wrong... I- thank you for saving my life. I'm sorry that I screamed at you...I didn't mean to."

He still stared down, frowning.

"I am sorry. That doesn't change anything, Loki. I don't hate you, I know you tried your best to leave with the others too. I am just mad at Thor and his dumb friends."

"I have a question..."

"Okay...go ahead. I am listening."

"Why are you so mad right now ? Just because the war or something else too ?"

"I...."

I sighed.

"I was about to take the throne in a few weeks. I wanted to show Odin with that, that I wasn't dangerous. If I would have had the full control over the planet, we would of had possibly gotten the casket back and save Jotunheim and the truce would still be intact. That was my plan..."

"Oh...so you were the Princess there ? You are his Daughter ?"

"First, yes, I am a Princess. Second, no, I am not his Daughter."

"Okay..."

"He is dying, Loki. He just then chose me to be the Queen there. He liked me, I was welcome there, but now... I am again...homeless... I bet with you, now that I got healed, I get sent back somewhere again, where it's lifeless and Odin hopes that I stay on this planet to rot. Like the last time he did, too bad that someone found me and picked me up... I lived with that person then 10 years and then I ran away. I fled to Jotunheim and stayed there since that day."

"Who was that someone ?"

"None of your business. I don't wanna talk about it."

"......Okay....."

Then a woman came inside the room and looked at my injuries, which were completely gone. She touched it and it didn't even hurt anymore.

"Prince Loki, she can leave now. Her wounds and her broken, twisted shoulder bone is completely healed. There is no need for her to stay any longer. She is dismissed.", she said and walked out.

I stared at him.

"How long was I gone again ?"

"For about 30 minutes I think...why ?"

"Are you kidding me ?! A broken, twisted bone needs MONTHS to heal !"

"Not here. Not anymore."

I stared at him and he at me.

"This place gives me the creeps..."

"Gee...thanks. It's my home still, you know ?"

"......Creep."

We both laughed.

"Then what are you ? A beast ?"

"No, guess again.", I said smiling.

"A troll ?"

We laughed again.

"Should we go now, Princess of Jotunheim ?"

"We should and it's Ex - Princess of Jotunheim."

"Okay."

I stood up and we went outside. We talked and talked about the past, what happened in our lives and I was angry at what Loki said.

"They dare to make fun of you ?! And you let Thor command you, like a little puppy, around ?! What the actual fuck, dude ?! I would have punched them in their ugly faces !"

"I wouldn't do that..."

"Coward."

"Hey !"

"No ! They laugh at you, make dumb jokes and always command you to do what they want ! And you don't even do anything against it ! What the FUCK ?!"

Loki now looked down, his tears near. I saw that and stopped him from walking. I didn't care, who saw us now. I pulled him into a tight hug and didn't let go of him, until he hugged back. He did it almost immediately. I felt his body having a bad time to breath normal, he whimpered and sobbed a little. I rubbed his back and whispered some calming things into his ear, like the first time. I will kill these Bastards... Nobody can do that to my best, childhood, friend.

"I will teach them a lesson... and when I am done with them, they will never see Asgard again and they will never get to Valhalla. I swear, I give them Hel...", I whispered, but Loki heard it anyways.

"Don't do that..."

I pulled away from him and looked at him angered.

"Stop being so soft to them ! What did they do to make you so soft ?! Are you afraid of them ?! The God of Mischief and Lies is afraid of some dumb friends of his Brother, Thor ?!"

"I just don't want that..."

"Loki...look at you ! They mock you every time, over and over again ! And you let it happen ?! Thor can't even handle the word 'little Princess', without losing self control ! And you need to stand it every time ?! Hell no, Loki !"

He looked down, I guess he is speechless of my caring and words. I pulled him into another hug and whispered in his ear...

"You were in my childhood my best friend. And if we are still friends, then you still are my favorite and best friend to hang around with... But if someone dares to bully my friends, then I bully them back. And if they then still don't stop, then I punch them really bad and the last thing I would do to make them stop, is killing them."

I pulled away and he stared into my eyes.

"I care too much for you, Loki."

"In what way ?"

"As my best friend, of course."

He smiled at me and I at him.

"Odin wants to see us, we should move on.", Loki told me.

I groaned.

"Fine, let's go to him..."

"Heimdall is there too."

"At the gate again ?!"

"No, at the throne room."

"Oh...Okay..."

"What I wanted to ask too..."

"Yeah ?"

"Your friends...they hate me...I guess..."

"Why do you think that ?"

"Because we did meet at first every time and then there were more and more missing... Until just I was left..."

"Oh Loki...They didn't hate you, they loved you and you weren't the reason, why you didn't meet anymore."

"Then why didn't we meet anymore ?"

"Loki...They are dead...all of them... They got killed or banished."

He froze in his place.

"D-dead ?"

"Yes...Morro told me. And I saw some die and the ones who lived in Asgard, they killed themselves, because of depression."

"What ?"

"It was clear, that they won't live long...but at least they had some good memories in the end..."

"I never thought..."

"I know, Loki. We never wanted to tell you that and make you suffer with the knowledge that some of us will die very soon. Jana and Lena committed suicide. Micha got burned in his own house to death, as I came by and put out the flames, it was already too late. Sahra got beaten to death from someone. Garmadon first got banished, then became a Sensei, what means he teaches others and doesn't have time anymore. He also has a family now and is very old. And Morro got trapped in a cave and burned to death there. They are all dead or banished."

"But Garmadon is.."

"Banished, Loki. He is banished from here."

"Oh..."

"Yeah...He is too old to be with us again. It's just a matter of time, when he dies...."

Loki didn't say anything anymore, for now.

Part 9

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !  

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 17

All in all, Lanque’s a whole lot calmer about the whole thing than you thought he’d be, which makes you feel better about going to him right away instead of Daraya. Of course you love Daraya, but knowing the kid she’d probably run off to start a fight with Bronya, Lynera, and any other poor bastard who gets in her way.

“I want to believe Bronya’s doing this because she thinks she’s in the right, but I just can’t… augh! I just… can’t believe she’d ask me to do something like that.” You conclude your messy rant by flopping down on the carpet. There’s a dull ache in your skull from either exhaustion or anxiety, possibly both.

Lanque’s looking down at you from the loveseat in the corner like the universe’s most judgemental therapist, sprawled across the whole thing with his gangly self. “You haven’t known her nearly as long as I have. You heard me say once that she’s the craziest bitch in the whole cloister. I meant it.”

You want to argue with him; Bronya isn’t crazy, just a control freak, but that’s gonna have to be a discussion for another time. “You’re not surprised at all by this? Not even a little?”

“Not surprised. Just… disappointed.”

“What, does she make you to sleep at certain times and check your palmhusk, too?” you joke.

“Not anymore, she doesn’t. She learned her lesson after I filled my whole camera roll with the spiciest nudes you can imagine.”

You try not to imagine anything of the sort and fail miserably. Your last brain cell hangs on for dear life. “So, uh… w-what should I tell her the next time we go out?”

“Tell her that I’ve been taking Daraya to a slam poetry club. We’ve actually done poetry in the past, so it’s not like you’ll be lying,” he says with a smirk. “You should come sometime. Talk to people about all sorts of controversial alien opinions. Maybe throw in some rhymes while you’re at it.”

“Alright,” you agree.

“... Darling?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Don’t breathe a word of this to Daraya. She’s stressed out enough as it is.”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

:::

The next night you spend with Polypa, vandalizing stuff with the Heiress’s face on it and even setting a billboard on fire. It’s a lot of fun, but between vandalizations you can’t stop yourself from thinking about the girl herself. From what you can tell she’d be around seventeen in human years, which meant she’d soon have to challenge the Empress, as all the Heiresses before her did.

Some teenagers like to play video games, some like to sing or dance or do sports; you even know a few who live all by themselves on an island in the middle of the ocean who can shoot guns better than most military personnel. But not Trizza Tethis. No, she’ll be off to duel for the throne… and her life.

In your hearts of hearts you know that Tethis is a monster. There’s no doubt about it. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still just a kid, a kid who is going to be murdered soon for the crime of reaching adulthood.

It makes your heart hurt just thinking about that, and all of the other girls that came before her, and if this rebellion goes to shit all the girls who will come after her.

“Hey, Polypa?” you ask.

“Yeah?” She’s hanging upside-down on some broken piping while spraying THE REVOLUTION IS HERE on the side of a post office. You’re being a good moirail and keeping watch for anybody who might see her, even though it’s dark out and you can’t see much past the street lights lining the sidewalk. For some reason she refuses to tell you, she’s been in a mood ever since she came back from Tegiri’s, but you’re patient. You can wait for her.

“Do you ever wonder if Trizza might have been a good person if Alternia wasn’t the way it is?”

Polypa stops what she’s doing and stares down at you. “Honestly? I don’t really care how she might have turned out if things were different. All the things I’ve seen her do, the shit I’ve heard her say on social media… I just can’t bring myself to believe anything other than she’s one of the most horrible Heiresses Alternia’s ever had and that she deserves to die. Slowly and painfully, that is. And then she deserves to be forgotten.”

“That’s fair,” you tell her. “I dunno, I just kept thinking about how she’s supposed to go off and duel the Empress soon, and that she’s definitely not gonna win, because none of the fuschias who went up against her ever did.”

“... Does that make you sad?”

“It makes me sad that a kid is going to die, yes.”

She huffs. “Save your sympathy. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Can trolls control who they sympathize with?”

“Of course we can. Can’t humans?”

You laugh. “No. Or at least I can’t. Empathy’s a blessing and a curse.”

Polypa chucks her spray-paint can into the nearby dumpster. “Empathy? Isn’t that like, feeling what other people are feeling? I thought that was just a myth.”

“Some humans can feel the emotions of others. I’ve always been able to.”

“That sucks.”

“Again, it’s a blessing and a curse.”

Polypa shudders, flips upright, and then drops down to the concrete. “If you say so. C’mon, let’s scram.”

You scram, or at least you try to before somebody bumps into you hard enough to nearly knock you over.

“Watch it!” Polypa hisses from somewhere behind you.

You look up at a boft looking (buff plus soft) rustblood guy, who flinches back when he accidentally looks you in the eye. “Sorry! Sorry. Bye.”

He shuffles off down the street, shoulders hunched in like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible even though he’s easily the biggest rust you’ve ever seen. Huh.

“Well, that was weird,” you say, and then you feel something crinkle in the hood of your jacket. Cautiously, you reach up and grab it, hoping that he didn’t just put a bomb on you or something. You aren’t that worried about dying, because you know your immortal ass is coming right on back, but if Polypa’s in the blast zone--

“It’s a piece of paper,” she says.

“Oh, yay. I thought it might be a bomb.”

“Definitely not a bomb.”

The paper’s been folded several times, so you smooth it out and read the letters that have been cut out and glued out in a note, like some kind of Nancy Drew shit.

“What the…” You read the message, and then you read it again, once, twice, thrice, four times before Polypa starts swatting at you and grabbing for the paper. You hand it over and stare out across the street.

You are not alone. Tomorrow at midnight.

“I’m texting the others,” Polypa mutters, shoving the paper into her pocket and whipping out her palmhusk.

“There’s more of us,” you whisper. “That’s what it means, right? We’re not the only faction out there fighting for-!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, let’s not believe anything that some stranger wrote down on a piece of paper and shoved into your hoodie--”

“But he came to me, Polypa--”

“Hey!”

Both of you turn around to see some cerulean girl you don’t know storming across the street to you. “The fuck you think you gutterbloods are doing, huh?”

“The revolution is here, bitch,” you tell her, and you grab Polypa’s sleeve and zap away.

Polypa does not hesitate to smack you upside the head the second you two appear on the roof of some building downtown. “The hell was that? She just saw an alien and an oliveblood teleport out of an alley with fresh graffiti on the post office!”

“Who’s gonna believe her?” you snort.

“She’s a cerulean, she’ll make somebody believe her.”

“Dude. Chill. We still have time before things get crazy.”

“Apparently not! Tomorrow at midnight--”

“I know! Isn’t it great? What if it’s like, a big post on Chittr, or a public service announcement from God knows where saying that it’s time for bigots to start shitting their pants, because the revolution is here and it is sexy!”

“Augh!” Polypa throws up her hands. You start to get a little concerned. “Aren’t you scared? Like, at all? We could all die tomorrow and you’re just… totally fine! You disappear for half a sweep and come back ready to lead a revolution!”

Alright, it’s time to bring out the big guns. Slowly, so she has time to pull away if she wants, you step forward and reach up to caress her cheek.

The effect is instantaneous. She visibly loosens up from horns to toes, leaning forward into the contact with a low chirrup rising up from deep in her throat. If you were a troll, that sound would have probably made you pale-horny to the max, but you’re human so all you do is just stand up on your tippy-toes to press your foreheads together. You imagine pulling away all of her fear and stress and releasing it into the open sky, never to be seen again.

“We’re not going to die,” you tell her. “We’re just not. And if we were, I’d tell you, because dying isn’t that bad. Doesn’t even hurt, really.”

“... You’ve been dead before?”

“Yeah. Feels like the best fucking nap you’ve ever taken.”

She snorts hard enough for you to feel her breath across your face. “Only you would say something like that and be completely unbothered.”

“That’s just how it be sometimes,” you say, because joking about your trauma and having anxiety are basically your only two personality traits nowadays.

“I’ll write that down for the pile,” she says, because she’s always been able to see right through you, even when you can’t see yourself. “Which we’re going back to an abandoned apartment building to do once I yeet this glass bottle into that window over there.”

She picks up the broken glass bottle at your feet and proceeds to do just that. It sails through the air with all the majesty of an eagle and crashes through somebody’s office window. You know enough about troll romance by now to be a little scandalized by how forward she’s being, but you both know it’s out of necessity. Troll language is far from just verbal-- it’s flattened ears or bared fangs or dilated pupils. It’s hissing and chirping and growling and all sorts of sounds you don’t even know the names for, and you can’t even hear most of them because they’re either too low or too high a pitch for your human ears to catch.

“Hot damn, wildcat. You gonna take me out to dinner before you throw me down on somebody’s abandoned loungeplank?” you tease. Her face lights up in green, and you grin in satisfaction as she splutters something about saving it for the respiteblock.

You’re about to cook up something truly slutty to say when her palmhusk vibrates. Polypa reads it and snorts. “Aaaannnddd Daraya is losing her mind, Tagora says it’s a trap, Tyzias wants to know what the rustblood looked like, Stelsa is in agreement with Tagora, Lanque is asking how the hell it could be a trap when the rustblood didn’t even ask you to meet him anywhere, and Mallek is telling everybody to shut up so he can take a nap. Konyyl and Azdaja haven’t responded yet. I bet they’re making out in a back alley somewhere. Oh, Tagora is telling Lanque to shut his Troll Twilight-looking ass up before he fines him for wasting the rebellion’s time… and Tyzias just sent a bunch of hysterical laughing emojis.”

“I love my friends,” you say.

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“I’m gonna get Mallek to hack the server so whenever people start arguing over stupid stuff a bot starts spamming the chat with gifs of fighting purrbeasts.”

“Do group chats have servers?”

“I have no idea. Come on, I’m fucking freezing up here.”

:::

Your memories of growing up on Earth are fuzzy at best. You have no idea if it’s from Scratch, or Ultimate Dirk, or hell, maybe it’s just regular old brain damage, but one of the few things you can vividly remember is when your grandma died.

You can’t remember her name, but you can easily recall her eternally-smiling face, that smile that always reached her eyes-- hazel, like yours. She’s the one who taught you how to braid your hair, wing your eyeliner, ask out a crush. She also taught you how to take down a grown man with nothing but your fists and a pocketknife. Old age hadn’t ever been a problem for your grandma. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

The morning your uncle found in her lifeless in bed hadn’t felt any different than all of the mornings before. You just woke up and started to get ready for school, and then your mom… yeah, it was your mom who picked up the phone. She didn’t cry, but your uncle did.

It was a heart attack.

Your mom told you that you didn’t have to go to school, but you were still pretty young, and it still felt like every other morning before so you went to school.

You’re not sure why you’re remembering this when you first smell the smoke, or see the burning buildings from the roof of the abandoned apartment building you and Polypa crashed in. Maybe it’s because it still feels like every other night before this one.

Something deep in you that’s been irreversibly interwoven with time and space begins to tingle. This is a turning point in history, you just know it.

Polypa’s shaking her head like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “It’s a riot. A riot. In Thrashthrust. We really aren’t…”

“Alone,” you finish with a smile so big it hurts your face.

“... Do you think this is really the right thing to do?”

“A wise man from my planet once said that riots are the language of the unheard.” You turn to her and take her hands in your own. “So let’s make them hear us.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting when you drop yourself and Polypa into downtown Thrashthrust, but you definitely weren’t expecting to almost get run over by Konyyl and Azdaja, both panting, sweaty, and smelling faintly of smoke.

Konyyl yelps and jumps about a foot in the air. “WHAT the-- oh, hi, guys. You didn’t scare me, I just… yeah.”

“Dude, what is all this? This is incredible!” you crow.

An explosion rocks the ground, followed by a giant plume of fire that shoots up into the sky just one street over. Azdaja whoops in delight, and Konyyl cheers even louder as a piece of flaming metal you think used to be a scuttlebuggy sails through the air and takes out a convenience store. Normally, something like that would have worried you, but seeing as the store’s already nearly burnt to the ground you think everybody’s already gotten out.

Not to be outdone, Azdaja telekinetically grabs on to a fallen lamppost and hurls that bad boy through the grocery store across the street.

“Show-off,” Konyyl scoffs.

“Where’s the main protest?” you ask.

“Like, a couple of blocks back that way. Some bronzeblood is leading the charge. Absolute mad lad,” she says, grinning. “I think a few more people you know might be there.”

That’s all the convincing you need to grab Polypa’s hand and take off running. You can hear the roar of a crowd chanting something.

“What are they saying?” you ask Polypa.

“Be silent no longer, when we’re together, we’re stronger,” she replied, glancing back at you with a twinkle in her eye. “I kinda like it.”

“Me too!”

The both of you turn the corner at the end of Hookedclaw street and find yourself face-to-face with a sizable crowd of about one hundred trolls. They’re all looking up to a pair of trolls standing on an upturned scuttlebuggy-- a bronzeblood, like Konyyl said, and the same big rustblood guy who you ran into last night.

You gape in shock. “Holy shit!”

The bronzeblood boy is yelling something, so you press closer into the crowd to hear what he’s saying. Most of the trolls here seem to be lowbloods, so when they see you and Polypa, an oliveblood, they gladly make room for you to join.

“... for what? A social construction that keeps us divided, because those who sit on thrones marked with the blood of our people know how strong we are together! They know that we’d be able to take control of our own destinies, and that terrifies them!” He pauses to take a short breath. “For fuck’s sake, I just want a world where I can walk down the street without worrying about getting killed! Is the bar really that damn low? Think about that, all of you!”

Another wave of cheering echoes through the streets, and you join in without hesitation.

“This guy’s spitting straight facts,” Polypa admits, looking impressed.

“He’s got balls, all right,” you agree. “That rustblood guy look familiar to you?”

She ribs you. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. I admit it.”

You turn your attention back to the boys, but they’re looking over the heads of the protestors at something behind you. A soft wave of hisses rise into the air as you turn to see a trio of purples stalking towards everybody, clubs dragging behind them with the awful scrape of steel against concrete. They’re twice the size of Polypa, except the giant fucker in the middle, who you think might be just a little bit shorter than Chahut.

“That’s a pretty sermon there, bronze brother,” he calls with a voice that crackles like burning wood. “Pretty for a load of treasonous fuckin’ shit.”

“Can’t be shittier than whatever they’re cooking up in that drug-hole church of yours,” the bronzeblood fires back with a smirk.

Even the rustblood standing next to him sucks in a sharp breath as the clown regards him with no trace of emotion. Polypa grabs your hand, and you squeeze it tight.

“You’ve got a big-ass mouth for a critter the size of my motherfuckin’ left toe,” the clown on the big guy’s right says.

“And you’ve got a big-ass forehead for a bastard with such a tiny skull.”

Somebody lets out a loud snort. It might have been you.

The feeble tendrils of bravery holding everybody together begin to unravel as the purplebloods begin to approach once more. You instinctively back up and pull your jacket hood over your head.

“Get ready,” Polypa growls.

But before the clowns have the chance to attack or use their chucklevoodoos, or before the lowbloods gather their courage enough to storm the intruders, a deafening CRACK splits the air like a thunderclap.

The clown to the far left drops like a rock, and standing over him, bat raised, is Elwurd.

She’s wearing a mask to conceal her face, of course, but you’d recognize that crest of blue hair anywhere. Beside her is Remele with her oversized mallet-club thing, and bringing up the rear with shining dual blades is none other than Ardata Carmia.

“Am I fucking dreaming,” you ask nobody in particular, and then all hell breaks loose.

The cerulean girls lunge for the two purplebloods that are still on their feet. The bronzeblood screams for everybody to scatter just as drones begin to swoop down from the sky, opening fire on the trolls below. Half a dozen kids drop dead on the spot.

You and Polypa duck into the nearest alleyway just in time before bullet holes pepper the pavement. Behind you, Elwurd roars something that sounds like “Duck!” before another explosion blows out all the windows. You yelp and cover your head as glass showers down on you like rainfall.

“Zap us out of here!” Polypa yells.

“No, wait! We have to go help the girls!”

“I’m not going back out there and neither are you!”

You glance back just in time to see Ardata drop to her knees, holding her bloody arm. She’s shrieking in terror as a drone advances on her, culling fork glinting bone-white in the darkness. Remele and Elwurd are too busy getting their asses kicked by the last living clown to help.

In that moment you can’t remember her as the bloodthirsty murderer who tortured you in her basement. All you can think of is the time she broke down in your arms, overcome with guilt at the monster she’d become in the name of being accepted by highblood society. A monster who’d traumatized you, and then became your friend.

You’re moving through space and time before your brain can catch up to what you’re doing. Ardata is cold and hard when you tackle her out of the way of the drone. The two of you tumble across the street together as the culling fork hits the spot where Ardata just was with a SHUNK. Even with adrenaline racing through your system the sound chills you to the core.

Remembering what Dirk taught you about hand-to-hand combat with a larger opponent, you grab one of her knives and zap right over to the clown, getting right up in his business before burying the blade into an eye socket.

Unsurprisingly, he drops a squirming Remele and covers his face with a scream so horrible you almost pee your pants. Ardata’s wailing your name from the sidewalk like a terrified child. You want to yell at her to shut up and run before the drones spotted her again, but you never get the chance. One moment you’re twisting a knife into a purpleblood’s skull, the next you’re flying through the air like a ragdoll before a pair of strong arms wrap around you. You and your rescuer land hard on the street with matching grunts of pain.

You look up into Elwurd’s bewildered face and burst out laughing. “Hi!”

“What the--”

“Time to go!” Remele yanks the both of you up by your scruffs like a pair of naughty cats. “Ardata, stop screaming like a wiggler and get your arse over here now!”

“My arm!” Ardata screeches. “I’ll be scarred for life!”

“No, you won’t, idiot, not when you hit your adult molt-!”

You zap the three of them out of there and into the alley, grab Polypa on your way, and then get the hell out of dodge.

The five of you end up in the back of a Troll Dennys, because of course you do. Polypa falls on you, knocking you to the ground, and then she yowls in anger when Elwurd lands on her legs, only for Ardata and Remele to hit the concrete ass-first. Remele accidentally kicks you in the stomach. Ardata falls back against a dumpster and hits her head on the metal with a BANG.

Everybody stares at each other for a long moment with varying degrees and expressions of utter shock. Polypa glares at you, and you just know you’re in for a long discussion about putting your own safety first in dangerous situations, or something like that.

You decide to break the ice first. “Anybody want pancakes?”

[yastaghr]

BTSB 15

New chapter of Broken Things Shine Brighter! You can find it on Ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431909/chapters/51072202

Or below the cut!

Blue shuffled back into the living room with his glass of water. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Papyrus perched on the arm of the couch, notebook in hand. It was a bit odd to see him in that position with his knees in his armpits and his socked feet gripping the worn floral print. He looked a bit like a plucked chicken. The pale pink pajamas weren’t helping.

“what- what’re you doing? that can’t be comfortable. why don’t you just sit on the couch like a normal monster?”

Papyrus looked up from his manic scribbling and smiled wanly. “nothing wrong with a little perching. besides, it’s your couch now. wouldn’t be nice to get my feet juices all over the place where you sleep.”

Blue chuckled. “dude, i’ve slept in way worse than foot juices. back when me and pap were on our own, we slept in the dump’s water and the city sewers. foot juices have nothing on that.”

“so you were abandoned, too?” Papyrus said bitterly, “i thought your world was supposed to be all sunshine and roses.”

Blue scrunched up his face in thought. Trying to remember something so far back was hard. “i think...i think we ran away.  i can, uh, remember some pretty bad things about the people we lived with. stuff like withholding food for bad grades and waking us up with cold water. blows, too. i don’t think they ever hurt pap, but...they’re the reason my tail is so crooked.”

Papyrus practically purred. “so that was a tail. hard to tell under the bindings. sans and i have ones, too.” He slipped a long, whiplike tail out of his pants. It wagged slowly, but there were little sparkles coming off the end of it. “why don’t you just leave yours out?”

Blue winced. “dude, my tail is embarrassing. it twitches and jerks. it’s zig-zaggy. anytime it catches on anything it hurts like hell. it’s way too sensitive.”

“we’ve got ointments for that. sans needs them for his cracks, and muffet has them on her feet all the time. we can soak the stuff, too. please? our tails are a part of our monster heritage that annoys the hell out of the queen. we have to show them off.”

“really?” Blue was confused, “you want me to do something just to piss off a member of the royal family that can kill me on a whim?”

“no, duh,” Papyrus’ voice was wicked. “it’s not like you’re ever going to meet her. she never leaves her fucking palace. you’ll be safe. just rebel with me a little?”

Blue hesitated. Papyrus seemed really excited about this...and if it wouldn’t hurt, was it really all that bad? “okay. go get these ointments; i’ll unbind it.”

Papyrus pumped his fist. “yes!

----

Sans gulped as he stood outside the doors to the Queen’s throne room. He was the only person she ever let get this close. It was a huge burden, being her only contact with the outside world. He sometimes wished she would just die and free him from this contract. But no. That just wasn’t meant to be.

For all that he joked about her, Sans was terrified of their mad queen. He never felt safe around her, and some of the stuff she make him do...hurt. But he would die before he told the others. Literally. It was written into his bloody contract that if he told before the contract ended then his life was forfeit. He couldn’t bear to leave Papyrus alone. Not when the Queen had already shown him the unsigned contract bearing his brother’s name. No, better to pretend everything was fine and soldier on through. That was what he wanted to be, right? A soldier? Or was it? It didn’t really matter. It was what he had to be.

Sans steeled himself and shouldered open the heavy door. Purple light spilled out on him. It came from the reflected glare off of hundreds of dolls that filled the room. Lik always, their eyes seemed to focus on him. He knew better. There was only one of these dolls that could actually see him, and it avoided this room like the plague. No, these dolls weren’t sentient. They were just creepy as hell.

“Ah, Sans, there you are. I had thought our meeting was for 4 o’clock, not 3?”

Sans put on his slickest smile and turned to face her. She towered over him at 9’7”. Most of that was leg; she was easily 2/3 leg, and on top of that she wore heels. Sans couldn’t see why. At least, not in here. They only made her look untethered. They were always too small, too, so that the sides of her feet spilled out the top. Maybe they had once been the right size, but no longer. He wondered why she didn’t buy new ones. She could certainly afford it.

In addition to the heels, today Queenie was wearing a floral sundress with a mermaid skirt and cap sleeves. It was one of his favorites for the simple reason that it bound her legs tightly and made it hard for her to move fast. It usually meant he could get away from her if she was in a more...amorous mood. For that he was grateful.

“OH, BUT I THOUGHT FOR CERTAIN THAT YOU WOULD BE OVERJOYED TO SEE ME,” He said with a smirk. Besides, if he had waited until the appointed time she would have gotten impatient and mad a half hour beforehand and that never went well.

She smiled fleetingly at him in her version of a coquettish smile. “Oh, you. My whole day doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

He waved that away. “I KNOW THAT. BUT IF I CAN BRIGHTEN IT AT ALL IT IS MY DUTY TO DO SO.”

“Speaking of brightening my day,” She batted her eyelashes at him, “would you be so kind as to indulge an old lady with a story?”

Sans nodded. “WHAT SHALL IT BE ABOUT, MY QUEEN? A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR? A SORDID ROMANCE? A DRAGON AND IT’S HOARD?”

She giggled. “Nothing so fancy. I merely wish to know about your houseguest. He has caused quite the stir. I was under the impression that you and your brother were the only skeletons left.”

Sans quickly hid his nerves. He didn’t like that she was asking about Blue, but he really had no reason to be worried. Right? Right? “AH. I SEE. WELL, THERE IS NOT MUCH TO TELL. WE FOUND HIM INJURED QUITE BADLY. HIS STORY SEEMS,” Sans gulped, “UNBELIEVABLE. WE NURSED HIM BACK TO HEALTH AND HE IS REPAYING US BY WORKING WITH MUFFET ON YOUR DRESS.”

Her face sharpened. Sans clenched his fist. Damn. She’d caught on to him hiding things. “Now, I know you wouldn’t dream of lying to me, my counselor. Your contract binds you not to do so. So tell me more about this guest. Where did he come from? Why are you taking an interest in him? What is his name?”

Sans fought to keep every word he said inside his mouth, but it was in vain. “WE FOUND HIM IN THE BASEMENT. HE IS A SKELETON AND, AS YOU SAID, WE THOUGHT WE WERE THE ONLY ONES. HE’S CHOSEN TO CALL HIMSELF BLUE.”

Queenie scowled. “How dare you try to defy me! I can see the bitterness in your eyes. Have you forgotten your place, counselor? Or do I have to carve it into your bones again?”

Something inside Sans snapped. He snarled, “I REFUSE TO GIVE HIM OVER TO YOU, MY- NO. I DEFY YOU. DO WHAT YOU LIKE, I WILL NOT BEND.”

Magic the color of a sickly rose wrapped him in chains of fire. He felt the heat warping his bones through his fireproof clothing. He did not sway from his spot. All of his bottled up hatred was in his eye sockets.

She laughed an unhinged laugh as she slunk over to him, tilting his head up with one clawed hand. “I shall enjoy breaking you to the bit again. It has been some time since my torture chamber has seen use. You will regret defying me, counselor. I hope the fleeting adrenaline is worth the pain.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 134: A Magnificent Debut

Previously on BnHA: Some yakuza dickwad shot Amajiki with a bullet that deactivated his quirk. Kirishima ran off after him and laid him out with a manly punch. The guy acted like a good defeated villain for about 30 seconds, and then shot himself up with some sort of quirk-enhancing drug. Then he sprouted a bunch of swords from his body and tried to stab Kirishima. Kirishima flashed back to his quirk-strengthening training, and a pep talk that Bakugou gave him about never backing down. Present-day Kirishima then proceeded to hulk out into a badass unbreakable rock man.

Today on BnHA: Kirishima wraps up his fight and, spoiler alert, wins. Everyone congratulates him and it even ends up making the news. Meanwhile, Fat Gum relays the news about the quirk-suppressing and enhancing drugs to Nighteye. Several days later, Kirishima is called back in to his internship along with Deku, Tsuyu, and Ochako. All of them meet up at Nighteye’s office, along with the Big Three, Fat Gum, Ryuukyuu, and even Aizawa and Gran Torino. Nighteye informs them all that he’s gathered them to discuss the Eight Precepts.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 164 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

Kirishima Eijirou has turned into a weird sort of dinosaur looking dude made out of rock

and he’s running toward knifey stabby man, whose swords are now all broken, as you’ll recall

oh damn, knifey stabby man is making one last all-in play here

that’s enough swords to build the goddamn iron throne

Kirishima is taking the entire blow head-on because there are still people behind him and people in the shops around them

he’s so fucking heroic you guys

he’s thinking to himself that he’ll use brute force to overwhelm him. heeeeey. exactly like All Might said, huh

I was just starting to think to myself that I was getting a bit tired of Kirishima just turning into a rock dude and doing muscly rock dude things, and then this fucking happens and I’m like, “but damned if it isn’t satisfying to see Kirishima punch this guy so hard he goes flying off his feet, though”

and then I also remember that my all-time favorite moment in this series is not when Bakugou fought Deku the second time, or when All Might hugged Deku on the beach, or even when All Might hugged Bakugou, but rather when Kouta punched Deku in the nuts that one time

so idk. maybe at the end of the day I’m pretty simple-minded after all

that said, this guy had better be down for real this time

that was pretty manly, dude

one of the bystanders is like, “he’s so young... but such fury...” lmao. yes. look how furious

furious like a damn puppy

knifey stabby has started crying again

he’s fucking asking Kirishima to let him go. um, no lol

what the fuck Kirishima

“sorry I can’t do that because you shot my friend and tried to kill me after you just pulled this exact same stunt two minutes ago. but I will still be empathetic towards you because I’M LITERALLY THE NICEST PERSON”

seriously Kiri, Red Riot isn’t gonna cut it any more. time to change that hero name to Mister Nice Guy

and then when you get really pissed off, you can be all, “THAT DOES IT!!! NO MORE MISTER NICE GUY.” get it. I think it’s a good idea that could really catch on

now what is this son of a bitch up to

are you gonna launch yourself into the air or something. don’t do that, actually. Kirishima’s not that mobile. although it has been a while since we last saw FG so maybe he could show up and catch you

oh look. he is launching yourself into the air

Kirishima’s cursing himself for just standing there and letting him escape again. yeah, you dumb, boy

knifey stabby is gleefully whooping about how Kirishima is way too naive and trusting, and that he’s gonna get away! for sure! no way he’s getting caught!! famous last words, what do you mean, what are those

lol

as many times as this series has pulled the rug out from under me, it’s nice to still be able to call it every once in a while

FG’s capturing the guy with his quirk and reminding Kirishima that while villains may have any number of goals, the heroes’ goals are always the same: capture the villains without any victims

hey, that sounds familiar. basically just another way of saying “win and rescue”, isn’t it? All Might really was right

anyway here’s FG’s quirk

at first I read this as “5000 goopy” and I was like, “what an odd unit of measurement”

Kiri’s standing there excitedly and thinking “wow! FG beat him instantly!” but really all he did was stand there and absorb him into his goop

now a nice Kansai accented man is thanking Kiri and says he did amazing, and that he didn’t fail to notice how Kiri was purposely keeping knifey stabby focused on him so that he wouldn’t attack the others

what a nice thing to say in front of Kiri’s mentor!

LOOK AT THIS WHOLESOME CONTENT

[HAIR RUFFLES!!!!]

now we’re back by the takoyaki place and Kiri is apparently telling FG and Amajiki about the quirk-enhancing drug

FG seems to know a lot about this. he says the short duration indicates the drug is an Asian knockoff. apparently there are African ones that last up to 1-2 hours

how much do you want to bet that Overhaul kept all the long-lasting ones for his best guys

(ETA: sweet jesus imagine if he had. we would still be in that basement to this day)

one of the cops is running over to FG

looks like they found the “bullet” that ricocheted off of Kirishima’s hardened forehead earlier and are going to check it out

Kiri’s asking Amajiki if he’s okay, and Amajiki is hiding himself under his costume hood

he’s embarrassed not just because his quirk stopped working, but because his kouhai had to cover for him. d’aww

he says Kirishima is the same type as Mirio. “another of those that shines bright like the sun”

Kiri says Amajiki shines just as much!

I’m starting to feel like Kirishima may literally be compelled to say something whenever someone around him starts badmouthing themselves. like, he physically can’t stand there and let them

while they bond, Fat Gum is thinking to himself that although he’s familiar with the quirk-boosting drugs, he’s never heard of a drug that makes quirks unusable. and he’s thinking to himself that this doesn’t look good

so they’re gonna take Amajiki to the hospital to get him checked out. good call. why haven’t they already done that, in fact. why were they just standing around talking for so long

“for starters, let’s head back to the office.” dude. I’m glad you’re being chill about this, I guess, but there’s like no urgency at all

BACK TO U.A. HOORAY

Kaminari is excitedly waving his phone in Kirishima’s face and announcing that Kiri made the news

meanwhile Bakugou is grinding his teeth but not actually saying anything. does that count as being supportive

(ETA: ooh I forgot he was in this one panel here. probably because he does absolutely nothing at all. but he really sells that background gag though)

Ochako and Tsuyu made the news too! niiiiiice

Iida is telling them that they’ve “rendered a splendid service”

BUT

sometimes he reminds me of Percy from HP

now they’re talking about supplementary lessons and stuff. actually, yeah, I’m impressed Kiri is managing to juggle both the internship and his schoolwork. unlike the other interning students, he’s in the bottom 25% of the class. Ochako isn’t much better, but I’d bet her grades are more middling

apparently Sero was considering interning too (and he’d be great honestly), but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. I think he was ranked like 17th out of 20. I just posted that recap pretty recently

while everyone else sits there being excited about their internships, Deku is sitting there being moody af about his. and I can’t honestly blame him. All Might potentially dying, Nighteye believing Deku isn’t good enough and being determined to prove that Mirio is a better choice; and last but not least my poor sweet little jelly bean Eri whom I have not forgotten about and who is still in peril!! :|!

and Deku hasn’t forgotten about her either and says the thought of her is constantly present in his mind day in and day out

now it’s “several days later” and Kirishima and Deku are meeting up outside the dorms early in the morning and seem pleasantly surprised

and the girls too! that’s nice

obviously this is the day of the big operation Nighteye was talking about that he had called in additional agencies to help with. and as we know, their agencies were coincidentally the ones he called

though it doesn’t seem like they’ve actually realized that yet lol

they’re remarking on how they’re all taking the same train even though Kiri’s agency is in Kansai. he says he was told the meeting place is somewhere different than usual

weird that Deku was told he didn’t need his costume though. were the others told the same?

(ETA: I keep forgetting there is a really easy way to verify this, which is just to look and see if they’re actually carrying the costume briefcases lol. and they are not)

also, are their senpais already at the agency? Mirio and the rest?

lmao

how fucking slow are these kids

at this point if I were Deku I’d be half-suspecting some sort of weird surprise party lol

finally they’re turning the corner and there are Mirio, Hadou, and Amajiki

I wonder if Amajiki’s quirk is back yet??

OH MY GOD

EVEN FUCKING AIZAWA IS THERE. and Gran too! AND IS THAT SOME SORT OF FUCKING COCKROACH MAN HOLY SHIT I JUST SUPPRESSED A SHUDDER

so Deku’s freaking out that two of his teachers are there, and he’s trying to figure out what’s going on

dude, you know what’s going on. even I remember, and it’s been more than a week since I read the chapter where Nighteye mentioned this whole thing

so now Nighteye has arrived and is calling the meeting to order

and the chapter is just ending there. lol. okay

 BONUS:

I’m gonna be honest with you guys. I didn’t read this bonus page until literally the night before I posted this recap. it’s like that for all the bonus pages in this volume

and also, I’m not quite sure if this is the correct page for this chapter? but he is in the chapter, albeit just as a background character on that one page with Everybody

anyway. Centipeder. what can I say about him. he scares the living shit out of me. I’m so scared of centipedes. they’re so gross and they’re fucking sneaky and the few times I’ve seen them they were just chilling on the couch or even the bed without any warning omg. one time when I was in college there was a centipede hiding under the strap of my messenger bag and I didn’t notice until I’d already grabbed it and it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. I would seriously take spiders over centipedes any fucking day

anyway. so here’s a centipede who’s six and a half feet tall. and they say he’s a hero and a gentlemen. sure. okay then. but I don’t trust him. pretty sure he is the U.A. traitor. even though he doesn’t actually work at U.A. he’s evil okay. just... I don’t want to look at him anymore lmao

[davidmann95]

This weeks comics?

So much to cover, and just so we’re all clear upfront, SPOILERS ahead.

Sideways Annual #1: I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive the cover for simply reading “All-out Action, guest-starring Superman” rather than the declaration of “The Champion of the Oppressed is BACK–JUST WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS HIM MOST!” it demanded, but otherwise what a delightful comic. It’s a mess in so many ways given Morrison’s working with what DiDio laid down for him (which he seems to demonstrate hilarious contempt for when he almost literally drops a bridge on the no-hoper who’d been set up as the arc villain before he can do anything) and jumping on mid-stream to boot, but it’s basically just an extended excuse for him to put dialogue in Superman and the Seven Soldiers’ mouths again and remind everyone how rad his takes on them are, and thereby shame us for abandoning the former. Plus give us a taste of what his voice for Spider-Man would be, which it turns out is a perfectly fine one in spite of his past professed skepticism that he could pull it off. And above all to assure us with a smile and the proper send-off (a particularly satisfying one for me personally given my arachnophobia) we never got before that even if we never see our pal cop-punching, bank-busting, casual Fridays Superman again, he’ll be out there, along with all the other cast-off good Superman ideas, helping out wherever he can.

Also, who else caught the nudge and wink about the Tailor, and how that tells devoted Seven Soldiers fans just how much of role Morrison really played in saving his take on Superman?

Batman #60: Batman is…Batman is weird lately. I honestly don’t have anything else to say about this issue, except that the bit with Alfred cleaning was obviously killer.

The Unexpected #6: So Ronan Cliquet is bad, right? Like, we can all agree that dude is just bringing nothing to the table? I’ve never seen pages so plain look so simultaneously cramped and barren. This book has been such a damn disappointment: clearly promises were made about how much space Orlando would have to work on this that have been entirely broken, he’s cutting past what was clearly intended to be dozens of issues of buildup and fleshing-out of the concept to the grand finale, and he’s already obviously and understandably checked out. This should have been one of those “hey, you never heard of _____, but it was quietly one of DC’s best books for awhile there!” titles you learn about 20 years after the fact, but it was stillborn and unable to explore even the slightest sliver of its potential. It’s almost reached a point where it can make me think its coming conclusion is a mercy killing, but then, said conclusion is the problem.

Justice League #11: The debut of the Super-eyepatch! Otherwise, while it’s definitely not my favorite issue thus far of Snyder’s Justice League, it might be the one that feels the most well-realized in terms of getting his vision on the page thanks to Francis Manapul. I desperately hope he sticks on the book past Drowned Earth, because as much as I absolutely love what Jorge Jimenez and Jim Cheung are doing, his vision feels the most in line with the, as Snyder put it, ‘magisterial’ tone this title is going for a lot of the time.

The Green Lantern #1: Not my favorite Morrison title of the week in spite of its lack of clutter and outside influence, to the point where I’d honestly say it initially left me pretty cold, but much as with Morrison’s last major #1 in Action Comics, a reread did wonders for me once I knew what sort of tone I’d be grappling with. I do think it was oddly structured in a way that didn’t benefit it, leading with the mundane-flavored-with-cosmic with the alien beat cops rather than Hal’s more grounded perspective leading into the awe-inspiring, but given it sets up an immediate contrast with his ‘civilian life’, I’d call it a calculated risk that didn’t quite pay off. Hal himself is interestingly realized, this blunt, bored dude who only really comes alive when he’s on the clock, who’s as hyper-competent at his job as you’d think the Greatest Green Lantern Of Them All would be but almost seems to be sleepwalking through his days. It’s when we reach Oa with the mission statement for the Corps that the book really comes together, meshing up the beautiful design sense, an evocation of some of Morrison’s past recurring themes and elements, and raw high concept into the most powerful evocation of the basic idea of Green Lantern’s Deal I’ve ever read. And Liam Sharp mostly does justice by it; I know some find his style off-putting and his anatomy wonky, but he sells the what-if-GL-was-a-2000AD-strip sensibility, and his work has a framing and structure and a tangible, doughy 3Dishness that recalls the flavor of some of Morirson’s best prior collaborations. Not that, to be clear, I don’t think plenty of those prior collaborators couldn’t have done a much better job with this, but I think this’ll pan out just fine.

On top of that a couple minor notes: I suspect David Uzumeri might have been right regarding the possibility that this could be the book where Morrison delves into the basic question of whether superheroes are by nature cops, and thereby police brutality (Maxim Tox and Hal himself both have some startlingly severe moments in here) and the moral feasibility of the whole business. Rather than rethinking his process in his time away, Morrison’s storytelling tics are as prominently on display here as just about anything he’s ever done. And I was genuinely shocked to see the acknowledgement of Manhattan in here - a landmark chapter in The Last War In Albion in the making if ever there was one - right alongside addressing Snyder’s Justice League, making this to my knowledge the only book in the company’s lineup to acknowledge both contenders to the throne of DC’s current actual Important Cosmic-Scale Story. I suppose Lantern is the place where that makes sense, but both bring interesting elements of their own, as with the Source Wall Morrison’s going right on in and acknowledging how other creators have brought his ideas and spirit to the forefront of the DCU in the last several years, and with Manhattan, having a Grant Morrison DC Comic acknowledge the presence of Watchmen characters as parts of the grand scheme of things makes that whole bizarre business feel real in a way even Doomsday Clock itself hasn’t for me.

Adventures of the Super Sons #4: What a charmer! I harped a lot on Pete Tomasi by and large sucking on Superman, because by and large he sucked on Superman, but put that dude on just the right project to play into his strengths and he absolutely shines.

The Dreaming #3: Wound up in my pull file since I’d unsubscribed so recently, and decided to give it one last chance. It’s pretty and confident in what it’s doing and I’m sure lots of people are rightfully getting a lot out of it, but I’m not one of them and it won’t be getting another shot.

Border Town #3: It feels odd to think this given how much positive attention it’s been getting and how well it’s sold for a modern Vertigo book, but Border Town absolutely still feels like the sleeper hit of 2018. It so feels like the sort of comic that I usually can acknowledge the quality of but doesn’t do it for me personally, so I keep picking it up expecting to not quite gel with a given issue, but each time I’m dead damn wrong. It’s brimming with energy and personality on every level, and it’s still early enough that I can’t possibly recommend enough that anyone who hasn’t given it a chance yet jump onboard.

The Wicked + The Divine: The Funnies: Speaking of titles that I can acknowledge the quality of but rarely do it for me, I’ve followed W + D from the beginning on the understanding that the fairly subdued joys I take from it on a month-by-month basis will be eclipsed by the scale of my love for it on a full reread, as was the case with the team’s Young Avengers. But boy did this one buck that trend, because it was a hoot. Honestly couldn’t tell you which was my favorite short, because like half the book is made up of front-runners.

Death of the Inhumans #5: Because Death of Some Inhumans, But Don’t Worry Not Any of the Good Ones, Other than Maximus wouldn’t have shifted as much copy. Donny Cates is establishing himself as a solid mid-tier superhero writer alongside your Tim Seeleys and James Tynions, and Ariel Olivetti’s a treat, but I have to call this one a miss.

Shatterstar #2: As I expected it didn’t grab me as much as the first issue since the tenants aren’t front-and-center, but I’m still digging it to a truly startling extent!

Marvel Knights #1: Okay? I mean, I liked it (aside from the unbelievably poorly-chosen ‘I can sort of see even though I’m blind’ line - had to be a dozen better ways of putting that), but aside from that it’s gritty and involves some of the characters with notable history in the imprint, I have no idea why this is the Marvel Knights 20th Anniversary book as opposed to just a random Marvel miniseries that I suppose could be published under that imprint if you wanted. The conceit feels so odd for the intended purpose.

The Immortal Hulk #8: This book is SO FUCKING GOOD ALL OF THE TIME AT EVERYTHING AND YOU ALL NEED TO BUY IT AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT IT. CHRIST. Still the best super-shit on the stands.

DC Nation #6: Yanick Paquette needs to write Batman explaining science so as to teach us how to better fight crime for as long as he lives, if not in fact longer.

[daishannigans]

What are all the moments we get with Eggsy and Tilde from the novelization?

I’m so glad you asked!

Eggsy thinks her accent is “adorable”

Tilde and Michelle get on so well -- like sickeningly well -- and Eggsy is so happy the “...two most important women in his life love each other...” (scratch that, he thinks -- it’s three, including ole Daisy) (I still can’t believe we, as a collective, managed to make Daisy a canon name?)

When they’re heading over to Brandon’s party, he sees her in the hoodie and pants and he just thinks that even when she’s dressed down, she still looks like royalty. (’He supposed she always would.’)

Tilde makes a comment about how beautiful the architecture is at his old estate and he’s a little taken aback because he ‘...doesn’t detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice...’ She’s so genuine! And wants to see the beauty in everything!

Their cover-story for how they met goes as follows: Tilde came into the Kingsman shop one day to find a new tailor for her father and Eggsy was the “...lucky bastard who got to help her...” Sparks flew, and they’ve been together ever since. What. A. Dream.

Eggsy constantly worries (in his head) that he’s not good enough to be with her, especially long-term. He’s like, how can a guy who grew up on a London council estate ever be good enough for a princess?

Eggsy is so stressed the morning of meeting her parents. They’re waiting outside by a cab and Brandon rolls up late and Eggsy’s snapping at him a little bit from the stress and Tilde shoots him looks like, “We’re so thankful you could dog-sit JB, Brandon. Aren’t we, Eggsy?” And Eggsy just murmurs, “Yeah, thanks,” before handing over the keys to his flat.

Eggsy actually didn’t pick the orange dinner jacket! Tilde did! He does love the jacket but he’s self-conscious in it because he doesn’t know if it’s appropriate or not but she tells him how handsome he looks in it and he immediately -- immediately -- starts feeling better about it.

Eggsy’s in such awe when he enters the palace for the first time. He murmurs, “Fuck me,” and she leans in and whispers, “I will. Later. Maybe in the throne room.” And they both giggle. (She’s a freak! Love her!)

When the attacks begin to happen, Eggsy darts out of the dining room, desperately trying to get someone on the comms. She follows, trying to catch up with him as he stumbles through the halls. Then, he turns around, stumbling over his words and not being too coherent -- “Stay here, I have to go. It’s safe here.” She wraps her arms around him, and at first he tries to move away -- he has to go -- but then he melts into it, accepting this one comfort. Softly, she tells him to do what he has to.

(Later, we find out that she told her parents the reason he freaked out was because some of his friends were caught in the “London Bombings” -- and assures him later that, despite that, her parents loved him.)

Remember when Eggsy tells Whiskey he got his Glasto tickets from his contact? His contact is literally Tilde. He told Whiskey to stay out in the car while he got the tickets -- he literally made Jack wait outside while he had a rigorous Welcome Home shag with Tilde. #Goals.

They’re having a “...post-coital cuddle...” and Tilde is tracing patterns into his chest and Eggsy tells her, in Swedish, that he loves her and Tilde smiles and kisses him and sighs, “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

She asks him if, after he’s done with everything, he wants to go house-hunting with her. And he thinks about how much it’ll hurt now Harry’s flat is gone, but decides it’ll be really good for them to have their own place.

Tilde, mischievously: “Do you want your present now?” / Eggsy: “I thought getting to see you was my present. There ain’t nothing I want more.” She then hops out of bed and gets the puppy from the bathroom.

Eggsy leaves the hotel, returning to Whiskey. Immediately, Whiskey says, “Do you always sleep with your contacts?” Nodding down to Eggsy’s shirt, “Your shirt was tucked in when you went in.”

Before they leave, they hear tapping from above. Looking up, there’s Tilde, in a bathrobe and the puppy in her arms. She smiles, broadly, and waves down at the boys. She’s so fucking cute - GOD.

(Bless her, she accidentally got them the wrong Glasto tickets.)

When Eggsy rings her up, he’s dreading it. He doesn’t want to tell her about the Clara stuff. He’d rather ask her how her day’s been, if she’s eaten. If she has, what did she have? Was it any good, babe?

Tilde, upon hearing Eggsy has to sleep with someone, immediately thinks it’s Whiskey. “Who?” She asks, “The old guy with you?”

Tilde: “Is she pretty?” / Eggsy: “Nowhere near as pretty as you.”

She asks for a photo of this girl he has to sleep with, and he actually sends her a really pretty photo of her and of course she’s not gonna be happy about it, dude! Oh, my God.

The thing that gets me the most is that when Eggsy sees Clara undress, he thinks about how the old Eggsy -- the Eggsy before he met Tilde -- would’ve already been shucking off his clothes and pulling Clara onto the bed but he can’t now. He only ‘...finds her attractive in the abstract...’ ‘...Nothing stirred in him.’

I really love her POV chapter, during the part where she’s sprawled out in bed, miserable, smoking a fat-ass joint (same, sister). She’s not even that upset that he has to sleep with someone else. It’s the fact she thought he wanted to be with her, have a future with her.Their relationship felt so good, and worked for as long as it did, because they were able to overlook each other’s upbringings, the labels -- these things that they can’t help -- and love each other anyway; share a life, in spite of all those things that would otherwise drive people away. But they can’t. She’s a public princess and he’s a secret agent and it’ll compromise the both of them if they made a big, public lifetime commitment to one another, and she begins to wonder if he ever even meant it when he said he wanted to spend his life with her. Why say it if he knows they can’t be public? Why say it if it’s a danger with the job? Why even begin a relationship like theirs if it wasn’t going to work out?

On the plane coming back from Glasto. Eggsy is desperately texting Tilde, trying to get a response. She does, telling him to stop texting her. She needs time to think. Eggsy to Whiskey: “Is the wifi working in here?” / Whiskey, casually playing pool as Eggsy’s life falls apart: “Yup. It’s your relationship that ain’t working.” / Eggsy: “She’s never ignored my texts before.” / Whiskey: “You never told her you didn’t have a future before.” (Sorry, divergent. But this is a really, really good scene that was cut and is supposed to parallel the martini scene with Harry and Eggsy. Here, Whiskey basically tells Eggsy that he should forget about Tilde. He’s a spy! They get to travel the world, fuck and chuck. They shouldn’t worry themselves with attachments. Whiskey: “Your friend Harry probably would’ve told you the same,” and Eggsy supposes he’s right about that. But then, of course, later on in the movie, Harry tells him the opposite. Which is probably why Eggsy looks so taken aback when Harry tells him that no, love as much as you can. Love is what makes life worth living.)

Eggsy sits at the bar, miserable, and checks his voicemail, just to see if Tilde called him and he missed it. She hadn’t. That No New Messages voice makes him feel cold. He stares at the photo of them with JB, which is his wallpaper, and is just absolutely wrecked. (TW: Suicide idealisation.) With losing Tilde, and everyone else, he leaves the bar and wishes some drunk sod would run him over so all this could be over. He wonders what’s the point of going on if he, a spy, can’t protect everyone and everything he loves? What’s the point when it’s all taken away from you? Jesus Christ, this book gets fucking dark sometimes.

Moving forward. Eggsy gets a text from Tilde:    HAPPY CLOUD HAT. FROG BUNS! GOT SOME NICE    WATERED-DOWN DRINKS FROM AMAZON? ;) She immediately rings him. He picks up, “Tilde?” But she doesn’t know who he is. Tilde: “Who is this?” / Eggsy: “What? You called me?” She hangs up. He calls her again, this time on FaceTime, and sees her face covered in the rash, like the movie. He freaks out, she’s talking a load of hysterical rubbish. Then, she freezes. Her father steps into shot, snatching the phone from her hands. “She’s in the third stage. Maybe if you hadn’t had broken her heart--” and then throws the phone onto the bed. All Eggsy can see is her in the distance, limbs bent at an awkward angle, her eyes glazed over but looking terrified (You’re conscious the whole time you’re stuck. The moment stage-three happens, the mania wears off.) Their new puppy skitters around on the bed, just as terrified. And Eggsy can’t do a thing about it.

Later, her parents have a room full of doctors surrounding her, trying to figure out how to help her. But they’re useless. Tilde, conscious, sees the puppy, scared, and wants to comfort him. She thinks of Eggsy, and wishes she could kick everyone out of her apartment and have him there instead. She wants to take him in her arms, she wants to touch him, hold his face. She wants to hear his voice, wants to tell him how much she loves him, how much she misses him. She wants to fix things.

They give her a cure. Then, as if on cue, her phone rings. Her father grabs it, and Tilde can see from afar that it’s Eggsy calling. She runs -- sprints -- to the phone and snatches it out of his hand to take the call. For a woman who was just paralysed, they all think, she sure can move.

Oh, Eggsy thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life when he sees her walking down the aisle. He thinks that, from now on, beauty is gonna be measured and compared to this, to her in that dress. His eyes brim with tears, his heart feels full. Daisy follows closely behind her and Tilde’s father, in this adorable little dress (she’s a bridesmaid!), with Tilde’s ring clutched in her little, toddler hand, and with “...a grin a mile-wide.” She’s so happy for her big brother!

The priest begins to do the ritual and Eggsy is so busy looking at her that he can’t hear a single thing the priest is saying. The both of them smile at each other, bursting with pride and happiness and love.

Daisy has Tilde’s ring, and Harry has Eggsy’s. Should I add that the dogs are at the wedding too? Harry names his Yorkie, Hamish, after Merlin. And Eggsy names his new pug after JB (JB2)

A little extra. The wedding hall is divided. One side is Tilde’s relatives, and the other is Eggsy’s. Tilde’s side is very reserved, very regal, whereas Eggsy’s are a lot more boisterous and energetic. Champ begins to heckle Tilde’s side as the pair kiss. Champ: “Hey! Lighten up, guys! This ain’t a goddamn funeral! Champagne’s on me!” Then: “Hit it, Elton!” And Elton breaks out into song: “Kiss the Bride”.(It doesn’t take long for the Bop to liven up Tilde’s side of the church)TBH... wedding of the year.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 6

We get some more hints about Dex’s and Andi’s past together.

Their last meeting hadn’t exactly gone over well, what with the whole, Andi soaring away with Dex’s ship, leaving him bleeding and dying on a fire moon thing.

Who edited this?

Update: Someone finally did, it seems, because this has been updated to:

Their last moments together hadn’t exactly gone well, what with the whole “Andi soaring away with Dex’ s ship, leaving him bleeding and dying on a barren moon” thing.

So uh. Better, I guess.

As with any shitty book with a STRONK FEMAIL CHARAKTOR, we must -- MUST -- wank on about how fucking amazing and hot she is, because she can’t just be brutal and off-putting and human, she has to be HOT while she’s doing physically exhausting shit that can both get bloody and sweaty, so let’s take a look at this garbage, shall we?

Godstars, she was magnificent, a creature that deserved to release her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to bring her to Cyprian’s feet.

So she’s so cool that ... she deserves to murder people, just because how cool she is? And capturing her is totes worth letting people get murdered?

I would maybe understand it if she was a massive threat to all intergalactic civilization and that throwing armies at her is the smaller price to pay, but she’s just one schmuck who does petty smuggling and escort jobs. Or does Dex just want his ex back and he’s ready to let people die for it? Because these are just space cops she’s killing and he’s ready to sacrifice, they’re just dudes doing their jobs.

What the fuck am I reading.

Update: This has been changed to:

Godstars, she was magnificent; a creature who had released her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to be the one who finally brought her to the general’s feet.

Oh, so now she already has released her wrath on the world, regardless of whether or not she deserved to? 

So Dex is happy to let other people die for him just so he can brag about capturing his ex? 

I’m glad we cleared that up. What a guy.

He hadn’t seen her in years, but he’d heard the rumors. He hadn’t truly known if she truly could wield those weapons with the a glory and grace that drew blood and split bones.

Why was he even questioning this? He’s been bragging about how he’s trained her and taught her everything she knows, and now he’s wondering if she could wield her own weapons?

Is Dex an idiot?

*looks at art* Forget I asked.

Gone was the girl young woman he’d once known, that shivering thing he’d found bruised and broken in the wilderness of Adhira in the markets of Uulveca.

In her place stood the warrior he’d trained and hardened and turned into something devilishly delicious.

He Dex reached for his gun as the Bloody Baroness attacked.

Devilishly. Delicious.

Shinsay. “Bloody Baroness” isn’t intimidating, alright? It’s not scary. Please stop this nonsense.

Andi and Dex have themselves a fight. Well, Andi kills a buncha dudes (+10 points to Gryffindor, Sasha managed to do what her hero SJM couldn’t, and that’s having her killer character actually kill someone on-screen) and Dex just kinda stands around in the background thinking about how hot she is.

We get a pointless POV switch.

The world slowed, but Andi moved like a flash of light.

Uh-huh.

“Take out her crew!” Dex shouted. “I want her alive.” 

“Take them out!” Dex shouted. “Save Androma for me.”

His words sent a spike of rage straight to through Andi’s heart.

Spike of rage.

A ball of white light shot past Andi’s shoulder. An enemy was blasted backward, already a corpse as he slammed into the door frame.

“Oh, that was a good shot,” Gilly said, giggling and brandishing her double-trigger gun.

Weren’t you just weeping and losing your shit four seconds ago?

I’m loving this mood dissonance. 

“I want the floor stained with their blood!” Andi yelled to her crew above the chaos.

This book is sending a blade of edge into my heart, I’ll tell ya that.

Update: If any of you were wondering where this comes from, this sequence has been updated to include Breck and her BULLETPROOF SKIN. The girls hide behind her and there’s emphasis on how USELESS the bullets are, because apparently these Patrolmen not only have Stormtrooper aim, they also haven’t heard of the concept of surrounding their target or moving a little bit to the side to get an angle on it. Or maybe Breck also has the ability to expand her physical form and encase her crewmates like a living hamster ball. 

Hey Shinsay. This doesn’t in any way justify your characters using swords and fists and whips in a fight. If anything, it just draws more attention to how fiking stupid it is. 

If you’re wondering how the fuck Andi survives this fight without being blown to bits while using katanas against dudes with guns, here’s where I admit and brag about the fact that I totally predicted that she’d deflect or slice through bullets, which yes, she actually does that.

Andi lashed out as a Patrolman shot at her, her sword barely cutting through the bullet before it could hammer itself into her throat.

You know, you’d think that Sasha, who supposedly reads a lot, would be aware of dumb shit like this and know not to do it, but alas.

This might work in anime or video games, but try to avoid this kind of garbage nonsense when you’re writing, because it’s so dumb that it takes the reader out of the experience. Unless you’re writing a comedy, just ... if you have someone slice through bullets, please reconsider.

Usually I’m not one to tell people not to do something, especially when it comes to writing, but sometimes you just gotta take a step back and look at the sins of humanity.

Also ... and I don’t know shit about physics, but if Andi has enough strength to cut through a fired bullet and her sword withstands this process without breaking, and the bullet clearly isn’t deflected but cut through, meaning its momentum is still carrying it forward and the impact of the sword didn’t slow it down, Andi just made two fucking bullets, or one bullet with its butt cut off.

She didn’t even deflect the thing.

She should be dead.

Oh my god.

Update: She now deflects the bullets with the cuffs on her wrists that “protect” her burned skin. So that’s why they were written in! This smells very much of Wonder Woman but it’s better than SLICING BULLETS IN HALF.

Seriously, Shinsay, did you read my snark? You’ve edited out all the best bits that I’ve complained about while leaving the bland and boring garbage intact. Why didn’t you hire ME as your editor? I could’ve made this GOOD. Or at least passable. But I’d charge you more than you could afford, because I’d have to rewrite the whole book for you.

“What’ s wrong, Dex? You don’t want to come out and play with me?” Andi said, her voice a dangerous purr.

Dex chuckled, his mahogany hair falling across one brown eye as he stepped forth to meet her gaze. “You were always one for theatrics, Androma. My little bitter ballerina.”

Dex’s hair color has been changed from “midnight” to “mahogany”. What, did SJM call you and told you to tone down the Rhys if you wanted her to pretend to like your book in public?

Also, bitter ballerina? Really? Who the fuck talks like this?

“These three can live,” she said, nodding her head at the final Patrolmen. “It’s you I want a fight with, Dextro.”

Yes, his name is actually Dextro. At least the book admits it’s fucking silly.

With a crackle of her swords, she lunged forward and cut off three heads in one scissoring slice.

#edgy

Still better than Sardines tho. Andi actually DOES SHIT.

Zenith is officially better than Throne of Glass.

After a bunch of nonsense fighting that I can’t even be assed to keep track of, Andi walks into Dex’s trap. His trap is basically even more dudes with guns, except this time Andi can’t fight them, for some reason, despite doing it just now, no problem.

Plot!

Update: Breck isn’t there anymore, so I guess it makes slightly more sense this time.

Dex notices the cuffs on Andi’s wrists, just so he can give the reader some info about them, I spose:

They were unbreakable, just like her swords. But the cuffs weren’t just an accessory. They held together the burned flesh on her wrists from an accident long ago. She didn’t have the privilege of seeing a doctor at the time, so her skin had become damaged beyond repair.

Without Dex’ s gift, she wouldn’t have the full function of her wrists and forearms—likely wouldn’t have the strength to lift those swords she was so fond of.

It gave him a sick kind of pleasure to know she still had the cuffs, a reminder of his kindness to her when she was at her weakest. A part of him she could never shed from herself.

So you’re telling me that ... Not only are her wounds still open under those cuffs, but that installing those cuffs was somehow faster and less expensive than finding a doctor who could patch them up for you? 

Or that they “healed,” and then, instead of paying for surgery, Dex paid for some GLASS CUFFS to slap on the wounds instead? 

And that Andi, during all this time and after presumably getting some money, hasn’t had her fucked-up wrists fixed, and instead keeps these cuffs on her still-fucked wrists even as they remind her of Dex Dogtective?

The wording implies that she physically cannot remove those cuffs without reopening the wounds.

Why did she have ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS METAL PLATES ON HER CHEEKS INSTALLED, WHEN SHE HAS AN ACTUAL WOUND THAT SEEMS A BIT MORE URGENT? Wouldn’t fixing a burn be cheaper in this hyper-tech world than grafting fucking metal into your flesh?

WHY ISN’T SHE IN IMMENSE PAIN AT ALL TIMES WITH THOSE GLASS CUFFS ON HER BURN WOUNDS. HOW FUCKING BADLY WERE HER WRISTS DAMAGED IF SHE CAN STILL BREAK PEOPLE’S NECKS AND WIELD HER SWORDS NO PROBLEM?!

HOW EXACTLY ARE THOSE GLASS CUFFS ATTACHED THAT THEY SOMEHOW HOLD HER SKIN TOGETHER BUT ALSO ALLOW HER WRISTS FULL MOBILITY?!

AHFSJFHGDKFJHGDSKFJHGSDKJFHGDSKJHF

“If they move, my guards will shoot.” Dex waved a hand, and half the men angled their light rifles upwards, where toward Andi’s motionless crew stood motionless.

The blue-skinned pilot from Adhira, the giantess beside her. And that psychopathic red-headed child, glaring down at Dex with the cold calculation of a seasoned killer.

Dex just waves a hand. Not his own hand, just a random hand he found on the floor.

I just remembered that their crew is literally just four people and I’m so tired.

Dex Dogtective takes Andi to some room on the Marauder to talk to somebody.

Cold calculation flashed in [Andi’s] eyes.

Oh, just like the cold calculation in Gilly’s eyes barely half a page ago?

Who edited this?

Update: "Cold calculation” has been changed to “disgust.”

Also, this is in reaction to Dex telling Andi to sit. When she refuses, he’s super impressed.

Instead, she stood with her back up against the wall, her gray eyes roving left and right.

Dex had taught her well.

Did you teach her not to sit on command, like the opposite of a dog trick?

I would not expect anything less from Dex Dogtective. 

For the first time today, despite everything Dex had thrown at her, she actually looked stricken. Shocked. Pained.

“Hello, Androma,” the man on the screen said. “I’ve been searching for you a very, very long time.”

The drama!

[preservationandruin]

Oathbringer Spoilers, Part Three: Chapters 58-62

The name of this section is “Defying Truth, Love Truth” and the spread is Dalinar, Shallan, Kaladin, and Adolin. 

Dalinar travels and engages in Diplomacy, we see another Surge in use, Kaladin gets a makeover, Adolin finds a safehouse, and Shallan half-tells a secret. 

We get a beautiful spread of Thaylen fashions, and a new source of epigraphs--the messages contained in the drawers Renarin found. 

As a Stoneward, I spent my entire life looking to sacrifice myself. I secretly worry that is the cowardly way. The easy way out. 

Apparently Stormy’s ego has made a full recovery from Odium’s visit, which is fortunate. Dalinar’s decided not to use the visions so carelessly, not wanting other people to get dragged into conversations with Odium. Not that not using the visions would probably stop Odium, but it’s a good precaution. 

Rial saluted him. Again.  “You don’t need to salute me each time I look at you, Sergeant,” Dalinar said dryly.  “Just trying ta be extra careful, sir,” The leathery, dark-skinned man saluted one more time. “Wouldn’t want ta be reported for being disrespectful.”  “I didn’t mention you by name, Rial.”  “Everyone knew anyway, Brightlord.” 

I’m so glad Dalinar has people around him who can ground him by giving him a little shit now and then. Kaladin and Shallan have been in Thaylenah, and the queen is now ready to meet with Dalinar; Dalinar takes a moment to tell Kaladin that he trusts him and Adolin to stop Elhokar from being a fucking idiot. 

I mean, he doesn’t use those words, but they’re what he means. Also, Dalinar awarded Kaladin some land! I mean, it’s taken over by Parshmen, but hey, it’s there. 

Oh my god please let Kaladin put his dad in charge of one of the villages LIRIN WOULD BE SO GOOD AT LEADING A TOWN and if anyone complained about him being darkeyed Kal could just look at them and go “i literally saved the world” until they shut up. 

Thaylen City has been ravaged by the highstorms. Whole sections of the city have fallen in, and their famous docks are gone. 

One of the other radiants decided to leave a record of the names of her husband and children, instead of anything about herself. That’s...really sweet. 

Fen shows them the areas of the city that are still standing, and I’m thinking about the Heralds, again, since they go to Shalash’s temple. 

You know what I really want? For the Heralds. I want them all to have some house in a nice area of Roshar where they can live and not have to fight ever again. I want them to get therapy. I want them to be safe and happy and live out their lives in calm. Because while some of them have pulled some seriously awful shit, the context of them having been tortured in hell for thousands of years really puts it into some perspective. 

Notedly, some of the statues in Shalash’s temple have the face broken off. She’s been here too, gang. Navani gets on Dalinar’s case for scowling, he denies it. 

“What?” He asked softly. “Stop scowling.”  “I’m not scowling.”  “You’re bored.”  “I’m not...scowling.”  She raised an eyebrow. 

I LOVE MY FANTASY PARENTS. 

Dalinar claims he is a diplomat and Navani’s reaction is basically “doubt.png.” For some reason, they’re not going to visit Ishi’s temple--it hasn’t been damaged, but Fen doesn’t seem to want for them to go there. Given Edgedancer’s mention of Ishar, I’m...suspicious. 

But then, if you’re reading this, you know I’m paranoid in these books and trust nothing. Taravangian, weeping, offers to bring through his surgeons; Fen agrees. 

But here’s the question--is that genuine compassion, or him wanting access to the slowly dying so that he can get their death rattles? 

This is why I’m paranoid. 

Fen notes that Taravangian acts as though the city is a burial ground. Well, in his mind, it is--it’s another necessary sacrifice in his Diagram. Fen isn’t going to take it that easily. They’ll rebuild from stone this time, making it more secure. 

Dalinar has noticed that Queen Fen can’t accede to his requests on her own--she’s dependant on the support in her throne. As long as parts of the city think Dalinar is out for military conquest, they’re not going to let her agree. 

So Dalinar has an idea. 

“Does it involve punching someone?”  He nodded, to which she sighed. 

Why is it now you’re thinking of punching someone and not when Odium was right in front of you. Anyway I’m looking forward to wherever the hell this goes. 

He says that he just has to give them a display, a lesson, and that brings up a strange memory--something about the rift and Sadeas, something his subconscious doesn’t want him to remember. That’s...not good. 

Something happened where Dalinar went back to the Rift and something very bad happened. Bad enough for Kadash to quit altogether, become an ardent. Bad enough that Dalinar has repressed it. Something having to do with Sadeas, maybe having to do with Evi. 

Notably, the temple of Taln has been hit hardest, lightning striking the building. 

None of the other temples had fared this poorly. It was as if Odium had a grudge against this one in particular. 

God, specifically trashing Taln’s temple just because he didn’t submit to your torture is so outrageously petty, Rayse. 

Anyway Dalinar is going to try to pick a fight with her son. Because...i don’t know? He’s Dalinar? I really hope this doesn’t backfire on him. She’s gone to do something else. Dalinar, why are you like this? 

Okay, correction. He’s trying to get Fen’s son to pick a fight with him. While trying to assume that he doesn’t know it’s her son. 

Kholin Diplomacy, Everyone. 

Well, it works, Dalinar throws down a line in the sand and the kid fucking crosses it, so I guess this is happening. Good thing the son says no Shards, because Dalinar can’t fucking hold them without Stormy throwing a godawful fit, and this city has been through enough at the moment. Navani’s like “don’t hurt the kid but...don’t lose” which is a careful line to walk. 

Let’s hope that Dalinar not feeling the Thrill remains true. The Radiants can’t feel it, we think, but...I don’t want this to be the moment we learn we were wrong. 

Dalinar just...lets the dude (armed) go at him (unarmed) for the first bout?? What the hell, Dalinar. I mean, if it works, it works, but dude, you better have a lot of Stormlight. 

And at the very end, Dalinar lets the dude hit him with the sword, and literally pushes it further into him. Again--you better have a fuckton of Stormlight, Dal. So he just fucking pulls a sword impaling him out of his chest, compliments the kid’s form, and heals it up, sharing a sly smile with his wife. 

Fucking power couple right here. The kid points out that, technically, it’s Dalinar’s turn with the sword. Dalinar just asks for a clean shirt. But then he realizes--his actions were a display of force, and he didn’t want to win that way. He didn’t want to win them over by saying that he could crush them. 

He leans against Taln’s broken temple--and hears something else. Unite us. Please. The stones themselves. The spren of the temple want to be fixed. 

Storms. Does everything I do have to be about destruction? About dying, broken bodies, smoke in the air and blood on the stones? 

The warmth inside of him said that it did not.  He stood and turned, full of Stormlight, and seized the fallen stone that blocked the doorway. Straining, he shifted the block until he could slip in--squatting--and press his shoulders against it.

He pushes it in place, and power flows through him, coursing through the building; the lintel raises and is fixed in place, the stones are knit together, the place is restored. 

Of course. When the Bondsmiths use that surge, they use it to fix. 

And he realizes the other thing he can do--provide aid, with the Radiants. He sends for Renarin, who can heal the dying. They’re gonna save this goddamn city. 

“I did not expect to find the Blackthorn shirtless,” Queen Fen said, “And...playing sculptor?”  “I can only fix inanimate things,” Dalinar said, wiping his hands on a rag tied at his waist, exhausted. Using this much Stormlight was a new experience for him, and quite draining. “My son does the more important work.” 

Dalinar also realizes that for a second it feels like he can almost understand the people speaking Thaylen, as though a bond is trying to form. That’s interesting. Bondsmiths might be polyglots, then, through their powers. 

Renarin, apparently, is telling everyone to thank Dalinar for the healings. Dalinar just told Fen that what he did was unimportant compared to what Renarin does. These two...

“Strength and Passion, the Vorin way.” Well, that’s an alarming line given what Odium has said. 

Another gem: I worry about my fellow Truthwatchers. 

We’re over to Kaladin. The storm doesn’t belong to him like the skies do; they’re flying before it, to Kholinar. Shit’s going to get real here, I think. From what we know, there’s a Voidbringer army converging there. Skar and Drehy are there, and then there’s Elhokar, Adolin, two of Shallan’s men, and  a maidservant, and then Shallan herself. Kaladin’s wondering how she keeps smiling, again. 

Five thousand unhealthy coping mechanisms, Kal. 

Adolin is not taking the flight wonderfully. I mean, it’s gotta be pretty terrifying if you are just a normal person. 

Further Syl attempting to set up Shallan and Kaladin. Syl, no. 

Shallan is talking about how beautiful the storm is and meanwhile Adolin has like a deathgrip on Kaladin’s arm. 

Kholinar is still held by the Alethi, although all the surrounding towns are Parshendi. Additionally, Kal gives himself a moment just to stare at how huge and amazing the city is--he’s never really seen it, before. 

Unfortunately, Kaladin feels a cloudlike wrongness around the palace,  and it’s strongest around where the Oathgate platform would be. Take your bets, gang--mine are going on “Unmade is there.” 

So bringing Shallan for illusions turns out to be a good idea. 

Anyway, this next chapter--still Kal--is called “Nightmare made manifest,” so clearly everything is just going to go great in Kholinar. 

Refugees are being let into Kholinar--it seems stupid for the Voidbringers to do this, but it isn’t. They’re overburdening the city. Shallan tries to draw the palace, but it ends up twisted--one of the unmade is there. I was right!

Shallan assumes most of them won’t need disguises, and I really hope so, because if Moash gets into the city he will instantly recognize anyone from Bridge Four. And Kal hasn’t told the others why Moash left. 

That could get nasty, very quickly. Shallan does give Kal one, making both him and Adolin look like old men. 

Someone is having too much fun with her ability to give appearances. Kal ends up looking wretched, Adolin ends up a handsome old man. Shallan. 

Also please note how much fuckin detail Kaladin goes into about this disguise: 

Shallan wrapped Adolin in Light. He resolved into a sturdy, handsome man in his sixties, with dark brown skin, white hair, and a lean figure. His clothing was no longer ornate, but in good repair. He looked like the kind of old rogue you’d find in a pub, with hardy tales about the brilliant things he’d done in his youth. The kind of man that made women think they preferred older men, when in reality, they just preferred him. 

That’s...okay, Kal. That’s pretty gay. 

Elhokar is surprisingly willing to be turned into a woman for this--he needs to help his people and his city, and he’s willing to do what it takes to do that. 

Even Syl is a bit revolted by how Kaladin looks. What did Shallan do? 

None of the other Bridgemen have gotten to the Second Ideal, unfortunately. 

“[Re-Shephir] was...wrong.” Adolin finally said. “Haunting. A nightmare made manifest.”  “Kind of like my face?” Kaladin asked. Adolin glanced at him, then grinned. “Fortunately, Shallan covered it up for you with that illusion.”  Kaladin found himself smiling. The way Adolin said things like that made it clear he was joking--and not only at your expense. Adolin made you want to laugh with him. 

This is quality good content. I know given my comment earlier you might think I mean in a shippy way, and sure, you can take it like that and it’s great, but this is also just good friendship content.

Anyway, the gates have stopped letting people in, and they go over to check it out. Apparently, they’re only letting people in if they can provide the defense, and the wall is being held by a “Highmarshal Azure,” who Elhokar hasn’t--or, at least, says he hasn’t--heard of. 

The ongoing saga of what the hell did Shallan make Kal look like continues, as they guard say they don’t want him because he looks sick. But a Parshendi raid lets them get in. Apparently Highmarshal Azure doesn’t have a superior--no word of what happened to Queen Aesudan or Elhokar’s son. 

There are strange performers on the street, dressed all in white with perhaps augmented clothes with red, blue, or green fabric, calling out nonsense phrases. Shallan notes that they’re imitating spren. The exhaustionspren people produce are of Odium. 

God,  something is fucked in the city. 

Anyway, they get to Adolin’s safehouse. Which is...

“What is this place?” Kaladin asked.  “Well, I figured we’d want somewhere safe,” Adolin said. “We’d need to stay with someone I trust with my life, or more.” He looked at Kaladin, then gestured towards the woman. “So I brought us to my tailor.” 

OH MY GOD, ADOLIN. 

Anyway, we flit over to Shallan punching herself in the face. She’s trying to actively attract painspren, to see if they are normal, I think. 

So Aesudan executed Pai the radiant, and then the riots started. During them, Aesudan vanished, and her proclamations, when they came, didn’t make much sense. 

Elhokar says that, of course, it was the unmade who ordered Pai’s death, not Aesudan. I think someone might not have great judgement regarding his own wife here. Shallan stabs herself in the leg with scissors, which Pattern notes as self-destructive even for her, but it does get painspren. 

They, too,  are strange. 

Anyway, the everstorm brought the darkness to the Palace. The Palace Guard retreated into the palace, and the city watch barricaded into the barracks, then vanished into the palace. Hungerspren didn’t look different, though, back with Shallan’s investigations. 

A group of prominent lighteyes went to meet with Aesudan, and never came back from the palace. This just gets better and better. Again, when the unmade are in a place it starts looking like a horror story. 

Shallan manages to nearly expose her safehand in front of Adolin, Kaladin, and the literal king, which is enough to summon shamespren. They, too, are strange. It’s all the emotions--hunger is a condition, not an emotion. 

Anyway, nobody knows where this Highmarshal, Highmarshal Azure, is from, and most haven’t seen him. The real power in the city is the “Cult of Moments”--people are saying that between the new forms of spren showing up and the queen and the everstorm, a new world ruled by Spren is coming. Fabrials draw screaming yellow spren who signal the voidbringers, who come and either take the fabrial or kill you or both. 

Shallan is starting to notice that Elhokar does have the makings of a king in him. They’re awkward, but they’re there--she takes a Memory to draw later. Kal and Shallan are going to go to the palace, Shallan as Veil--that’s interesting, the first time another main character interacts with her Veil persona--and they’ll be trying to investigate. Kal refuses to let her wipe off the brands on his forehead with an illusion. 

Shallan tells the guys--her guys, her squad of trainee spies--about Veil by just saying “privacy, men, Veil needs to get dressed.” Some are surprised, some aren’t. Ishnah said she thought Brightness Shallan was the fake and Veil was real; Shallan answers that both are fakes. Then she heads out to scout. 

I’ll cut it here--my phone is dying, and that’s how I read. Moreover, I have to change observing targets at work. 

[hyper-elastagirl]

Let it be known that I am going into this after reading chapter 8 of stag beetles and broken legs and I am feeling all sorts of things right now.

Ohhhhboy they usually don't show him as visibly feverish reinhard is looking kinda run down.

Julien is a little fucking genius and reinhard is slacking because he's suck aaaaaaaaaa

Omg that scene was dramatic with that big entrance and the cape swirl and then he just fucking passes out. Mood but what's going on Blondie????

My dog is screaming to go play in the rain Zelda whyyy

"Variant acute collagen disease" ???? Reinhard von lohengrahm has eds. He is a zebra confirmed. Fksnajab jk jk jk but how ironic that he basically has a disease relative to my Ehlers Danlos syndrome. He's the right age to start being affected by eds at least it hits in the early to mid 20s usually. Oh shit I remember someone I think Hilda mentioned how annerose looked a bit pale and sickly? Is it genetic can it affect her and baby Alec? Didn't their mom die in childbirth too? Common complication in people who have eds ... Brb doing some googling. Art will be made related to this ohhhhmygod

Okay yeah I guess this was a made up term or what they called unspecified connective tissue disease back when this was written. I am taking this headcannon to my grave though slams hands on table the sibs have an eds like disease.

Awe i knew merkatz was gonna die but I'm still sad. He was a good guy. Hmmmm I am getting Bad Feelings about the way julien and schonkopp are parting the kids need a parent on either side alive for their wedding schonkopp don't let karin down.

NO. COME ON. NOT SHENKOPP. God fucking damnit at least he died well. What a fucking badass he just yanked that axe out of his back and kept fighting. Rest in peace you glorious bastard.

"Do you love me? I do. Democracy is great isn't it?" ???

Also thank you narrator for the good news that karin and julien get married!! That means they fucking live!!! How ironic that both of their dads died on the same day but a year apart though.

Snorts dusty "shit stirrer" attenborough at it again.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Rubinsky oh my god. Hasn't there been enough death you fucker. My grandparents fire alarm went off at the exact same time as the explosions and I didn't figure out that they were 2 different things at first and !!

Reinhard!!! Idiot. He was fucking carried out on his couch after being all "if I'm going to die I want to do it here" boi. He's gonna fucking die god.

Excuse me. Do we not get an imperial family reunion??? I want to see reinhard meeting his kid and Hilda and annerose's reaction to the news! Come onnn.

"We're not your tranquilizers" good one my dude ohmygkd the quiet guy threw water on them lmfao.

Hhghh they're playing moonlight sonata.

Fuck.

"Annerose saw a gentle, soft light swaying in Reinhards eyes that she's never seen before ... Hasn't reinhard been burning his own flesh to fight in order to satisfy his unfilled heart? Reinhards gentleness was like the warmth of the white ash remaining after his heart and body are all burned out." God. I usually don't care for the narrator but that summed up the tragedy of his character perfectly. Hoh and he admits he was too ambitious in the end.

Good. Julien gets his revenge in the end.

Goddamn. Oberstein does sacrifice himself in the end. And he tells the doctors to make sure his dog is taken care of goddamnit he's such a complex character.

Reinhard I get what you're doing but these are infants. Maybe not try and turn them into you and kirchies? That kinda didn't end well the first time. They're babies mittermeyer oh my god let them play with each other don't make your son cry.

This is fucking awful his death keeps getting drawn out!

Final thoughts for the night: this bitch is doing a reinhard cosplay. Blonde wavy hair? Check. Sassy attitude? Check. Pale skin and sikly demeanor due to an incurable collagen disease? Check. And I'm gonna put a fucking cape on the back of my wheelchair and deck the wheels out to look like the filigree on their uniforms. Maybe make a custom cape for Zeldas harness too.

It's incredibly ironic and tragic that a man like reinhard is going to die of an incurable disease. I think it's a major plot hole that his illness was undiagnosed for so long. I'll probably write up a whole meta on this but like, I know people with other collagen diseases with fucking paralyzed intestines and failing hearts. Doctors still find ways to keep them going.

Reinhard dying like that just feels unsatisfying to me. I've heard people laud this series as different than game of thrones because it's resolved in a satisfying way and I get it, kinda. It is entirely because I live with a disease similar to the one that killed him that I'm so eh with this ending. Fucking hell this disease almost killed me a year ago and I'm still alive and kicking.

It really was Reinhards story in the end, yang was just the antagonist and it was framed and conveyed in an incredibly way. This series is going right up there with berserk and FMA and ghost in the shell as one of my favorites to have experienced. Now I get to watch gaiden and die neue and may be even read the manga. And for sure read the books.

I currently have 2 big logh pieces in the works but I already have ideas for many more sooooo sorry all y'all that follow me for hollow knight. The two are going to coexist as mutual special interests for a while.

[spobycavanaugh]

Chapter 12 of “The Avengers Group Chat” is Up!

Chapter 12 of “The Avengers Group Chat” is now on AO3! Read it Here on AO3!

Chapter is also under the cut.

Clint: oh shit oh shit oh shit

Clint: what the fuck do we do now???

Sam: Maybe we stop texting each other and just TALK since that we’re all RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER

Clint: no way man this texting thing is the only thing preserving my sanity

buckyhampalace: That was a pretty big word for your mouth there Clint

Clint: SHUTUP

Natasha: There’s no way you idiots can handle this. I’m tapping out of the mission and coming back. Fury can send Hill in.

Clint: nO you definitely don’t need to come back nat

Natasha: Too bad, someone has to discipline you morons.

Clint: oh fuck shes gonna kill us

Rhodey: Yeah, unless Tony beats her to it.

underoos: haha u guys r so screwed

Clint: bitch…

Sam: What the hell man? You’re the one blasted the hole in the floor in the first place. If anyone here is screwed, it’s you.

underoos: that’s where ur wrong mr rhodes. mr stark loves me so im safe. hes gonna kill u guys for letting me in his lab

Clint: the kid played us dirty

Sam: what the fuck.

Rhodey: That doesn’t matter now. We need to find a way to fix this damn floor.

Clint: i can call a floor guy?

buckyhampalace: What the hell is a floor guy?

scarletbitch: Do you mean a carpenter?

Clint: yeah whatever

underoos: earth’s mightiest heroes, everyone

Clint: FUCK YOU YOU UGLY SPIDER IF IT WERENT FOR YOU TONY WOULDN’T BE FUCKING EATING OUR DICKS FOR BREAKFAST

Natasha: That sounds much more sexual than you meant.

Clint: OH FUCK NO

Clint: NO

buckyhampalace: I DID NOT NEED THAT MENTAL IMAGE.

underoos: EWWWWWW

underoos: CLINT IM A MINOR THAT’S ILLEGAL

Clint: I DON’T THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL US THAT

underoos: WELL YOU GUYS KNEW IT ANYWAY

Sam: WILL YOU BITCHES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND CALL A FUCKING CARPENTER ALREADY?

scarletbitch: wait do not call a carpenter. civilians will find it very suspicious that a normal man is walking into the avengers compound. Besides will a carpenter really come at this unholy hour?

Clint: that’s usually when people climax, so

buckyhampalace: That’s disgusting.

Sam: Well then what the fuck do you want us to do?

scarletbitch: how am I supposed to know I am not the one who blasted the hole in the floor!

underoos: IM SORRY

Clint: wanda if you just USED YOUR FUCKING POWERS then this shit could have been fixed by now

scarletbitch: I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIX A FLOOR. I HAVE A DEGREE IN ART HISTORY NOT CARPENTRY

Clint: WHAT THE FUCK WHY ART HISTORY THAT’S THE WORST KIND OF HISTORY

Sam: WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU WANT A DEGREE IN THAT

scarletbitch: LEAVE ME ALONE YOU UGLY OSTRICHES

buckyhampalace: I have to admit it’s really funny to watch you guys stand in a circle, completely silent while typing furiously on your phones while the kid hyperventilates about the hole he busted in his dad’s floor

underoos: UM

Sam: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHA

underoos: MR STARK ISNT MY DAD MR BUCKY WINTER BARNES SIR

buckyhampalace: He’s not?

Sam: NOPE

Clint: its fine dude we all thought it at one point

underoos: YOU DID?

Clint: yeah lmao

buckyhampalace: Sorry kid

underoos: its ok mr bucky sir

buckyhampalace: Just call me Bucky

underoos: ok sir

Clint: HA

Natasha: If you idiots are done discussing who Tony stuck his dick in, maybe get back to solving the problem about THE GAPING HOLE IN THE FLOOR

Clint: YES MA’AM

Steve: Thor is here.

underoos: maybe mr thor can fix the floor!

Sam: Right, because the god of thunder has a college degree in general carpentry

Steve: He brought a guest.

Sam: Well the guest better be a fucking carpenter or else I’m fucking pushing them down this hole

buckyhampalace: I mean, wouldn’t an engineer be more useful here?

Sam: Since when are you an expert on floors, asshole

buckyhampalace: I hate you

underoos: OMG I SEE MR THOR

Rhodey: is that fucking loki with him?

buckyhampalace: Who the hell is Loki?

Steve: Thor’s brother. We fought him a few years ago when he attacked New York City.

buckyhampalace: What the fuck

Clint: my thoughts every day

Rhodey: Why is Loki with him?

Clint: someone get this bitch a phone so that he can text us

Thor: Hello everyone.

Rhodey: …

Natasha: Everyone say “Hi Thor”.

Rhodey: Hi Thor.

Sam: Hi Thor

Clint: hi thor

underoos: OMG HI MR THOR SIJFHIFHDFJSHGERHB

buckyhampalace: Hi Thor.

Steve: Hi Thor.

Thor: I have brought my dear brother with me.

Clint: ew why

Rhodey: Here, let me get Loki a phone so he can speak for himself.

Thor: Why do we not just all talk? We are all in the same room.

Clint: because it’s the twenty first century bitch

Thor: Fair enough.

Loki: Hello.

Sam: does anyone else smell some shit in here?

Natasha: Be nice.

Loki: I am not here to harm you. I swear on my right to the throne.

Clint: but ur not getting the throne. thor is gonna be king

Thor: I am king now, Hawkeye.

Loki: Until I kill him.

Sam: See, this is why no one fucking trusts you

Loki: Relax, you naïve fools. I am not going to hurt any of you. Thor and I need a place to stay for a while.

Natasha: I thought you said you were king, Thor?

Thor: I am. But a series of unfortunate events led to Asgard being destroyed several weeks ago, and now I ask that you provide hospitality for my brother.

Sam: Is that why when you got here a little while ago your hair was fucked, you were missing an eye, and you have no hammer?

Rhodey: I thought we agreed no one was going to bring that up unless Thor started talking about it first.

Clint: well we’re gonna be housing his bitchass brother, i think we deserve to know what the fuck happened to turn them into hobos

Rhodey: Clint, be more sensible.

Clint: fuck that

Thor: It’s alright War Machine. To make a long story short, our Father told us that we have an evil sister who was imprisoned, and she was coming back and was going to try to take over Asgard. Then he died, leaving us to our own devices. Then our sister returned, broke my hammer, sent us to another planet where the Hulk and our personal drunk hero was, we started a revolution and left, went back to Asgard where I lost an eye and brought upon Ragnarok which destroyed our planet and now me, Loki, and the entire population of Asgard need a place to stay.

Sam: What the actual fuck?

Rhodey: So that’s why when you showed up a few weeks ago, you looked like fucking trash.

Thor: Exactly!

Clint: so youre basically house hunting for asgard now?

Thor: That’s one way to put it.

Clint: yeah sorry man i don’t think assgard will fit in the compound or my apartment so

Thor: That is quite alright Hawkeye. I’ve already found a home for Asgard. Canada is in desperate need of more people, so I’ve sent them all there.

Sam: Wow.

Clint: well thor my dude, youre gonna have to ask tony if u and ur edgy brother can stay here because none of us here call the shots

Thor: That makes sense. Where is Stark, anyway?

Rhodey: He’s not here. As you can probably tell by the gaping hole in the floor.

Thor: Ah, yes, I was wondering about that.

underoos: mr thor mr sir can u help us fix the floor???

Thor: I’m afraid I cannot, Spider Boy.

Loki: I believe I can.

Clint: bitch YOU?

Loki: Why yes, I can. I’ve spent years attempting to murder my brother, so I’ve picked up a few things on the way.

underoos: o

Loki: Now if you would be so kind as to give me a few minutes, I should be able to fix your floor.

Clint: uM

Steve: Wow.

Sam: Holy shit, he just fixed the floor.

Clint: damn, wanda this bitch is a better wizard than youll ever be]

Sam: Damn, it looks like it was never broken in the first place.

scarletbitch: shut up you ugly toilet snake

Rhodey: I never thought I’d be saying this, but thanks Loki.

Loki: You’re very welcome.

Natasha: We’ll make it sure that Loki will stay here.

[iures]

can i just say that you've just become one of my favorite users on here! like YESSSSSS to the max on your last reply. i've argued constantly with my brother (who LOVES ffxv) about how flat it just was. especially for a game so over hyped and years in the making! and its not to shit on the game cause it had some good things. but overall ffxv bored me. i honestly didn't care about the characters or its story. Luna as you mentioned was downgraded! again everything in Kingsglaive wiped.

I think a lot of people don’t see the difference anymore between “shitting on a game” and criticize it. It seems to me that to some people any kind of negativity towards anything they love is all of a sudden a personal attack and I actually hate it because when I say “This game is overhyped and let me down” does not mean “I hate every person who enjoys this game because when I don’t enjoy it, no one else can enjoy it!” because what I actually mean is “This game is overhyped and let me down”. It may be a surprise for some people but I am one person and therefore can only talk about myself and my opinion about stuff. I have no problem when someone disagrees with me because again, you’re a different person than me and probably consumed this game different from me and that’s cool. 

I honestly hope you and your brother aren’t fighting about something as petty as a game. It’s not worth it but what is kinda funny, I thought the past night about the people I talked with about XV and most people I talked with where disappointed. And it’s probably because it took too long for this game to come out. I followed the making of this game since 2007. Nine years late the game came out but it was nothing what I saw from the earlier days. I bet SE has good reasons to change the concept of the game but it just was boring and flat, as you said. 

The last trophy I had to get was to one from Gladios skill thing-y where you need to walk around and I was so stupid and only traveled with a chocobo. And I was so damn tired that I used a rubber band around my controler and let Noct walk in circles for five hours. I certainly wouldn’t do that if the game was funny. But it kinda was always the same, you know? You need to get from Place A to Place B but you need to stop that damn car five times because one of your guys want to take a photo, the other needs to pee and then there is some dumb monster on the street you need to kill first before going on. When you’re at Place B, you need to kill all enemies. Then there is a cutscene which probably has some dumb dude comment in it before you head from Place B to Place C. XV did not have much variety. The side quests where mostly the same as well. Go to that Place and kill that monster and then come back. I wasted hours doing side quests because I thought I would get more story out of it but there just wasn’t anything. 

The game had good things and I sometimes even laughed but it failed to create a connection between me and the characters and every gamer knows that’s important to get invested into the story. But then, the story was an actual mess. 

I have no idea where SE wanted to go with this game but somewhere they did lose themselves. They probably had too many ideas and just lost focus or something. 

Another thing I actual really hate about the game is the car. It may sounds odd but I hate it so much. I always left Ignis drive because I had no patience for it. And when you need to get to a location you had not visited before you someties drove up to 10mins where nothing happened. Okay, you could listen to music but what the actual fuck. In that time I sometimes prepared dinner or went showering. I have no idea which idiot had that idea but it’s actually one of the most stupidest thing I have ever seen in a game. Fight me. 

I’m honestly pumped for XII, which comes out next month and for VII Remake because I know and already played these games and know they’re good and I know there is just a very slight chance I will be as disappointed as after XV. I know what I’ll get when I buy XII. 

But I think something I will never be able to get around is the treatment of their female characters in XV. As if it wasn’t bad enough that there was no woman in the actual party, who could fight but then shoved Gladio’s sister down my throat who did nothing beside wasting my Portions, was honestly shitty. As I said before Luna talked about her death since minute one and it was no surprise that she died to increased Noct’s already very high manpain. Cidney was just cheap eye-candy. Gladio’s sister, which name I can’t recall right now, was such a big deal to get her and to make sure she’s safe but then she just disappears and you never see her again. First you fought Aranea, then you worked together, which I enjoyed and then she disappears as well. I know other players had her hepling them randomly durnig fights in the open but in the +70hrs I needed to completely the game this actually did not happen to me. So I never saw her again. And then there is the other main girl, Gentiana, which has one of the best backstories with being Shiva but is on screen for only 7 minutes at best and yeah, that’s it. Oh, wait! I forgot Frog Lady!! I don’t know her name but she’s probably the only person who doesn’t gives you a side quest where you need to kill something. I loved Frog Lady but she only had, what, 2 or 3 quests and then she was gone as well. What a shame, I honestly loved her german voice. 

For fairness I have to say that Kings.glaive played during the first Chapter of the game and that could be the reason why the stuff got never mentioned but you can’t tell me that in the ten years the game played no one talked about what happened during the fight. We know Nyx saved the city but I’m not sure if anyone else knows it but to see his “body” hanging in the throne room, alonge side KG!Luna and Regis was honestly a punch into the face because the stuff from the movie still got not addressed and everyone who has not watched the movie and hasn’t great eye-sight probably did not know why these people where hanging there. Sloppy. 

I wonder what happened to that other guy from KG, the one who helped Luna later. Shit, I forgot the name but I mean Nyx’s pal with the broken arm. He was alive at the end of KG but why did SE not make him show up during the game. It could have been a throw away line like “Nyx did everything to protect his people” or anything else. Then I would have been happy but with the game never so mucb as mentioning what happens during KG and Luna being a completely different person, you could actually think that the movie played in another universe. 

On thing I need to say is that the endboss fight was actually very boring. Maybe I was over-leveled with being on 99lvl but it was just …..boring and too easy. 

Sorry again for the rant but I could go on and on and on and on because I had not the chance before to talk so lengthy about the game and how I feel about it. I hope you don’t mind. 

[3one3]

The Sequel - 887

An Hour And Two Halves

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Show you what I can do, and you know it’s true, when I dance with you,” Christina sang along quietly with the song on the radio while she chopped carrots for her stew. It was a Joe Jonas song she didn’t even particularly like, but it was upbeat and bouncy and she was in a great mood. The vibe got bigger and louder as the chorus approached, and she was so ready for it. The rider dropped her knife on the plastic cutting board and dramatically flung her hand out at her sous chef, who was cutting green beans. “”Oh-oh-oh-oh, give me your haaaaand,” she sang loud and proud and with a silly face. “Oh-oh-oh-oh, I’ll be who I aaaaam. Oh-oh-oh-oh I ain’t no...Michael Jackson, but give me one chance, one chance to daaaance. Give me, one chance, one chance, to daaaance.” Juan didn’t offer his hand, so she just hopped around him in her energetic, extremely-non-Michael-Jackson-esque way. Her stew-making process was riddled with work interruptions for dancing and animated singing. Despite the midfielder’s disinterest in letting her drag him around his kitchen dancing to Top 40, he found her behavior amusing, and hilarious even at times. Her dramatic and extremely relevant interpretation of Justin Bieber’s “Friends” had him doubled over laughing. When it was over, they agreed that they were evidence for broken up couples everywhere that they can’t still be friends. Christina stopped singing and dancing to make out with him after the third “But we had something so good” line, so it really was pretty self-evident.

“What’s next, cariña?” Juan asked when her dancing took her back to her knife work and he was finished with his.

“Nada. Everything is finished. We put the potatoes in in an hour, and then the rest of the veggies half an hour after that, and then half an hour after that, we eat.” The beef was already simmering away in a big pot of stock, wine, herbs, and onions. He laughed at the chef when her eyes had the typically bad reaction to chopping all the onions too. Their whole cooking project was mostly Juan laughing at Christina, and Christina loving it.

“What do you want to do for an hour and two halves?”

“I’m not really sure, but I know I want to go for a walk after dinner. I miss the smell of London on a fall night sooooooo bad.” She turned her bottom lip over in an exaggerated pout and used her big knife to slide the carrots into the bowl with the beans. “Do you have any ideas?” The Spaniard took both the knife and the small cutting board to rinse in the sink with the ones he used.

“One.”

“Your penis is never going to be in my colon.”

“I want to read a poem to you, from the book.”

“Oh jesus,” the Olympic medalist groaned at the Olympic failure whose token of failure she kept in her book as a reminder of his belief in her ability to avoid failure. There was an unrealized connection between all of those things. The two athletes borrowed a variety of types of strength from each other, and they cultivated that borrowable strength in their own ways- alike, but different. The rider collected takeaways from her history books, and fed her imagination with her mysteries. The footballer collected food for thought from more abstract texts, like the collection of poems she gave him. Books and mutual intellectual stimulus would always bind them.

“It’s very good and you’ll really...relate to it.”

“Is it going to take an hour and two halves?” Christina asked, reluctantly consenting with her body language if not her actual language.

“No.”

“Fiiiiine. I want to hear the end of this Mikky Ekko song though.” She turned around and backed herself up to the small island counter, preparing to hoist herself up on it. Sometimes she was too lazy or tired to do it all on her own, and opened up a big bottom cabinet to step into for a boost. Then she could use her foot to close it again once seated. Juan always complimented her creativity in the matter. She intended to do it on her own on Sunday, and clamped her hands on the counter. He noticed as he was drying his hands, and dropped the towel to lend some help. His hands grasped her waist and lifted her the extra couple of inches she needed on top of her little hop, and he kept them there even after her butt landed safely. He held onto her to keep her from sliding back, so that she had to spread her legs to make space for him in between, and so that she was right up close to his body.

“I lied before.”

“Bout what?”

“I have two ideas for the hour and two halves.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope the second idea involves dragons,” the girl in leggings deadpanned to the boy between her legs. She also casually hung her wrists over his shoulders and passively kicked the backs of his thighs with her heels.

“I can’t wait for your birthday. I’m going to give you the biggest dragon-themed party anyone has ever seen,” the Spanish player laughed, with the same delight in the glint in his eye that had been there all through her dance-cooking. “Every little boy will be jealous.”

“Can it be a costume party? Will you be dressed as a knight? Or is this a Thrones-type dragon party? You would totally be a Stark.”

“We’ll have to see. I have some time to plan.”

“What’s your other idea for an hour and two halves?”

“I want to photograph you- exactly like this,” Juan hastened to add the second Christina’s face turned disapproving. “Exactly the way you’ve been here all afternoon. Just for myself, not the walls, or your Instagram, or a magazine.”

“Aww.” Spanish Teddy Bear is the sweetest, she cooed to herself. I thought he meant naked, and that he was going to try to say he wanted to do a “tasteful” thing instead of something pornographic, which is just what dudes say when they want you to feel classy and glamorous about being pornographic. It’s nice of him too to acknowledge that he recognizes how done I am with being photographed for other people right now, and even for my own social media. I haven’t posed anything with myself in a couple of weeks, because I’m sick of looking at myself, to be honest. I’m sick of hearing about myself too. One of the nice things about weeks and weeks without horse shows is not having to hear about me. I’m so fucking sick of me. Last night was too much about me. I want to crawl back under my rock until Doha. But I can be photographed for him, because that’s adorable. Especially since I don’t even look cute right now, I don’t think.

“Hopefully you don’t think too hard after I read the poem,” he snorted. “That would ruin the picture.”

“Ugh, do we have to?”

“Yes. I’ll go get the book.”

Juan didn’t have far to go. Much to Christina’s surprise, her gift to him was right on the footstool-table next to the chaise by the window. That meant he was actively reading it, at least part-time. That was where he kept the current book when it wasn’t traveling with him for a match, or when he wasn’t reading it in bed. She figured he was reading a novel that he would have taken to Chelsea Harbour with him on Friday night since she didn’t notice him put the Frank Bidart poems in his reading nook after the game on Saturday. On occasion, she had a “travel” read and a “home” read going on at the same time too- a practice she learned from the player. He said it helped him get his head into the right lane. The “travel” read, regardless of type, was for shifting focus away from everyday life to the match. He told Christina that it was especially helpful during the busy parts of the season when the team played every 3 or 4 days. The “home” read signaled the shutoff of football and the time to relax and recharge. The first kind tended to be more inspirational, like an autobiography, and the second variety was most often a work of fiction.

They met in the middle. Christina sat sideways on the sofa, Indian-style, and then collapsed backward to enjoy the stretching that position provided and also the offered focal point- the ceiling. Looking at the matte white ceiling was definitely preferable to making her expression available for his purposes during or after the reading of the poem. He sat by her legs and put his socked feet up on the coffee table. Without preamble, he began the poem.

“Advice to the Players. There is something missing in our definition, vision of a human being: the need to make. We are creatures who need to make. Because existence is willy-nilly thrust into our hands, our fate is to make something- if nothing else, the shape cut by the arc of our lives. My parents saw corrosively the arc of their lives. Making is the mirror in which we see ourselves. But being is making: not only large things, a family, a book, a business: but the shape we give this afternoon, a conversation between two friends, a meal. Or mis-shape. Without clarity about what we make, and the choices that underlie it, the need to make is a curse, a misfortune. The culture in which we live honors specific kinds of making (shaping or mis-shaping a business, a family) but does not understand how central making itself is as manifestation and mirror of the self, fundamental as eating or sleeping. In the images with which our culture incessantly teaches us, the cessation of labor is the beginning of pleasure; the goal of work is to cease working, an endless paradise of unending diversion. In the United States at the end of the twentieth century, the greatest luxury is to live a life in which the work that one does to earn a living, and what one has the appetite to make, coincide- by a kind of grace are the same, one. Without clarity, a curse, a misfortune. My intuition about what is of course un-provable comes, I’m sure, from observing, absorbing as a child the lives of my parents: the dilemmas, contradictions, chaos as they lived out their own often unacknowledged, barely examined desires to makes. They saw corrosively the shape cut by the arc of their lives. My parents never made something commensurate to their will to make, which I take to be, in varying degrees, the general human condition- as it is my own. Making is the mirror in which we see ourselves. Without clarity, a curse, a misfortune. Horrible the fate of the advice-giver in our culture: to repeat oneself in a thousand contexts until death, or irrelevance. I abjure advice-giver. Go make you ready.”

“It’s remarkable how you managed to conjure a poem that hits on me missing my family at the same time as my need to figure out what’s next in my life and then also the way you’re “making” with the mirror, with Common Goal,” the very impressed rider commented after giving all the words a moment to land. Every stanza felt immediately relevant to her, and she wanted to make sure Juan understood that she got it all. “My parents were the work to not work people, and they tried to make a business and a family, and never made their own likeness, or what they truky wanted to make. Like, I think my mom would rather have owned her own knitting store than been who she was. You and I are the lucky ones who get paid to make the thing we want to make, or our likeness, mirror image, whatever. But then we kind of grow out of that and we realize what we need to make is actually bigger than football and riding. For you, it’s Common Goal. And the weirdness and equilibrium I experience on and off right now is me trying to figure out what exactly it is I want to make next. And at the same time, I think you and I are kind of making our combined mirror reflection together too...” It all came out so quickly as her mind linked the ideas for the second time, and as she got more excited about them. “Did you think of those things when you first read it, or did it stay with you for a little while and the relevance came later?”

“Right away. From the title, I thought, “This is an important thing for me to read. This is about me, in some ways,” and then I read on and I thought, “This is Chris’ parents, and this is why their relationship was how it was, and why her mum resents her so much. Chris makes the thing she needs to make from inside. Mrs. Martin made the thing she thought she was supposed to.” And I liked the repetitive lines. “Without clarity, a curse, a misfortune.” I try now to have clarity when I make decisions. No lies, no confusion. You’re right,” he smiled as his friend peeked over at him from the flat of her back. “I do feel like I’m making the right thing now, besides football. I like this poem very much.”

“Thank you for sharing it,” she smiled back. “Sorry I objected. I should know to trust you by now,” she chuckled. He grabbed her wrist when she lifted it for help, and pulled her back up and forward so that she could reward him with a sweet kiss in the middle of his lips. They could have dissected the poem together, quite happily, for the two hours before dinner. It just wasn’t necessary. They didn’t need to talk each other into believing their take, or dissect it. Knowing that was sort of novel. Christina appreciated it.

“I have enjoyed the book a lot. It was a good choice, cariña.”

“I enjoy your face a lot.” She put her hands around the back of the player’s neck, paused to watch for the flattery’s impact to arrive in his beautiful blues, and then pulled on him until he got the message that she wanted him to lie beside her, not just be annoying and hang on his neck. He went pretty willingly, and she got more of her arms around his head when they found a comfortable spot together, and she rubbed her right leg on his bare ones until it pushed her leggings up her calf a little. “I know you want to take pictures of me acting like I live here,” she teased knowingly. “But I’d rather be a lazy bum on the couch.” Juan’s nose was captured playfully between her teeth until he kissed her chin. He found an unexpectedly ticklish spot, and took advantage when Christina’s shiver-like reaction brought her midsection even closer to him. He hugged her waist tight with one arm.

“We’re getting closer to the part of the season when I’m a lazy bum on the couch a lot,” he told her while she played absently with the hair at the back of his head, well below the thinning spot. “I hope you’re joining often.”

“I want to stay here for most of the week of the horse show. Schü and Lukas are coming for the Sunday and Monday, and Tuesday, after, so we’ll stay at a hotel, but I’ll be here for 6 days before that. I don’t know if you want an extra bum on your couch for that long.”

“It’s a sexy bum, so I want,” the Chelsea man smiled, squeezing her butt.

“I might want to come for New Year’s too, but I dunno yet. I have no idea, really.” I also kind of want some magical night with Schü. I owe him that, and I want it anyway. I want special with him. We never have that anymore. We have nice nights ended early because of dead goldfish, and then two nights of crying until midnight because of the dead goldfish. How dare the goldfish go and die when it knew Lukas liked to watch him in the light from his nightlight when he wakes up in the night and can’t sleep? How dare he leave him with no soothing thing to watch. IIIIII didn’t know he did that, but surely the goldfish knew.

“You’re always welcome with me, baby girl.” Juan rubbed his nose on the rider’s and then kissed her, long and low-energy, and perfect for the moment. He was finally able to shed the longstanding feeling that their time together was limited, so he was no longer hastening to get his fill of her, and get “through” everything he wanted with her before her next departure. There was a new calmness- a change in behavior dictated by the realization that the clock wasn’t running anymore. Christina was always coming back to him. They didn’t need to have sex in 6 different positions on the first night, or hurry to get from couch-cuddle-flirting to more serious foreplay to actual sex. “Hurry” was relative, of course, because the player’s imperative was subtle, but it was noteworthy by its absence. She watched him for a second, the side of her thumb resting lightly on his cheek, and reflected on that change. I wish I had his ability to settle down in something and believe it’s going the way I want even when I know it will probably change. Thinking too hard about anything was unpalatable in that moment of closeness, and shared breath, and soft pads of fingers on highly personal skin. The equestrian star took her turn to kiss her favorite Blue, mostly on just one side of his mouth because getting to the whole thing would have required her to move her head a little and that was too much. The exact position she was in- literally and figuratively, physically and emotionally- was too perfect to alter either by movement or consideration. His lips were perfect- warm, unblemished by dryness or cracking or even a wrinkle, tense just enough to hold the kiss together, still enough not to interrupt the transfer of love and comfort through that most import line of communication. A kiss like that was practically nothing and almost everything simultaneously. And it was, afterward, symbolic of a cornerstone in recent memory.

“I think I want to tell you something,” Christina whispered after her smooch. Her regular conversational voice was small enough to fit in the very small space between them without even breathing too much air in Juan’s face- something she often took into consideration when snuggling close with anyone- but that voice came with full conviction and confidence and those weren’t the preconditions for what she wanted to say, so all that came out when she opened her mouth was a sweet whisper.

“What?” the Spaniard whispered back teasingly, with a grin, almost like stage-whispering.

“I used to really hate the person I was with you- like because you made me want to do things that hurt Schü, and our relationship has, at times, made it very difficult for me to look after my responsibilities and ride my best, and do the right thing. I loved being with you, but I hated who I was for that,” she explained with a bit more surety. “Now I feel like I’m actually growing and improving myself- I don’t want to say because of you- but with you, together. I’m making decisions that feel good, and I’m finding it easier to be happy and content wherever I am, physically and in a moment. I don’t know- Maybe it’s because the Olympic hurdle is in the rearview now. Maybe that was the big difference. I just don’t think it was. I think it’s you. I’ve said in the past that we are the worst thing for each other. I don’t think so anymore. I think you’re the best thing for me right now.” I didn’t really mean to get so into this, the rider realized, pointer finger on Juan’s chin, which she was staring at instead of the receptive blues she looked into while she talked. I wasn’t going to say that much. I hate when I start trying to tell someone a small thing, or a short thing, and it gets me thinking, and then I can’t stop talking. Now I’m rambling to myself because...who knows. Anyway. “I’m glad you’re coming to Doha too,” she finished after reaching for some kind of period for the declaration, or something to take up some more airtime since Juan wasn’t saying anything.

“I told you we could be happy together and that we can do more than be miserable together. Not miserable together because we’re together, but be together because one or both is miserable about other things. You know what I mean,” the footballer laughed. He was recalling a conversation they fought through years back, right after Lukas was born. Christina didn’t think they could ever be a couple because all of their experience together was when one or both of them was in bad shape because of their other relationships. They were always closest when their lives were the most tumultuous and generally unhappy. “And now you understand how I feel with you,” he added, more sincerely. “I feel good about myself, and happy with myself, with you. I always have, more or less.”

“I think it’s more for you now though. Ever since we stopped lying.”

“That could be.”

“Okay I feel too grown up and in touch with my feelings now. Give me something stupid and immature to talk about.”

“Can I tickle you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can I go get the camera and take pictures of you?”

“Can I do goofy poses?”

“Yes.”

“K. I need another kiss first though.”

[emthinks]

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

No. No. What? No.

I don’t have thoughts. I do not comprehend. Give me a few moments (days, weeks) to gather the broken pieces of my brain. I shall be back.

Fair warning: Someone told me ACoMaF is like wrapping you in a warm, fluffy blanket and not letting go while EoS is stabbing you a thousand times with needles. I’d like to point out right now that that statement is false. ACoMaF can be a warm fuzzy blanket at first, sure, but one that slowly falls apart so just when you think you’re safe and okay, it freezes your ass off because it can’t protect you any longer. It betrays you.

Rating: 9.8/10

My Notes (as condensed from my iPad):

I start off and my first thought is: “wtf is going on?” Like, there’s a wedding? Feyre/Tamlin right? No. No. Like, five pages in and I’m reading about dresses and parties and Feyre saying how she wishes she’d one day learn to love her role as the blushing bride and all I’m hearing is no. Because Feyre is not, under any circumstances, just a pretty bride or the helpless princess. She is a warrior among her own right and should be treated as such, damn it. Wtf happened in that time gap between the end of ACoTaR and the beginning of this book? What the fuck?

And she’s not allowed to help? At all?

“Feyre Cursebreaker”. Huh. That’s new.

“I was introduced and passed around” like a fucking toy? Hell no.

“Alone in my bedroom, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d truly laughed.” Jfc. Is it just me or does it sound like Feyre might be in a little – just a little – pain? Huh, Tamlin? Tamlin, who doesn’t give two shits and who doesn’t wake up when Feyre is puking her guts out every night? Wow, what a wonderful and supportive fiancé you are Tamlin. Would really want to marry you

Also, is it just me or does the first part of this where Feyre is trapped read a lot like Just Ella? Anyone ever read that? It’s about after the happily ever after of Cinderella. Except it’s not much of a happily ever after. That’s how I felt. Like this was just a really shitty happily ever after.

Also, hey, after three months Rhys finally calls in the bargain. Right during Feyre’s wedding. Good. Because Feyre sounded like she was so done with this right now. Except she’s so deep in denial, it’s kind of side. Also, like, Tamlin just gave up so easily – he just threatened Rhys a bit and called it a day. Like, no. If you really love her – if you really want Feyre – you should be fighting a little harder for your bride-to-be.

Hey! Feyre gets to learn how to read and write. “Rhysand is the best, Rhysand is awesome.” That’s hilarious. Also, Feyre is learning Occlumency. I’m literally getting flashbacks to HBP and Snape’s lessons with Harry. Fun, right?

Yes, yes, yes! We finally rescue Feyre! Yay Mor! “Not safe. Not protected. Free.” Hell yeah you are!

The Court of Dreams vs. The Court of Nightmares. Oh I love that.

Okay, idk what that whole prison scene shit was but it sounded a lot like Azkaban. But worse. Because these prisoners have been here for a long time. Also, the Bone Carve scared the shit out of me. It better not come into play later – Feyre shared one too many secrets with that asshole.

The whole Weaver scene was absolutely insane. Like, I couldn’t flip the (metaphorical) pages on my iPad fast enough. Feyre needed to get out. (Fuck you Rhys and making her fetch a ring.) Feyre has to get out. Go, go, Feyre!

Wow, this scene with Elain and Nesta went real well, didn’t it? Nesta, wtf? I thought you were supposed to be on our side?

Also, the Feysand training is basically Rowaelin training. Fae mates are just merciless, aren’t they?

The Summer Court bit was fun. A nice break. I like Tarquin. Tarquin is our friend. Also, going down to get the Book, I knew shit was going to go to pieces. There’s no way they’d make it that easy for us. And guess what? I was right

Wow, the mortal queens are assholes. Willing to abandon the island to save the continent. Fuck them.

Also is it just me or did the sex scenes read like fanfics? I’m not complaining, per say, just finding it…odd. Very well-written fics, but…fics nonetheless. Basically, what I’m saying is that Sarah J Maas’s original stories read like my favorite fanfics/authors and you don’t understand how ecstatic I am about that.

Like that throne room scene in the Court of Nightmares? Literally the sexual tension was through the fucking roof. It got so heated. Was expecting they start banging right there in front of everyone.

I mean, so were the cabin scenes, I guess, but that throne room. JFC. Combustion. I was in public reading this on iBooks on my phone and I was like so worried people would take the words out of context. That would've been awkward

Starfall scene was wonderful and beautiful and fluffy and feels

Okay, that journey to the Illyrian camp could’ve gone a lot better. Like, I thought everything was okay, right? And then Feysand go into the mountains to train. And who shows up but Lucien? Like, still convinced Feyre is brainwashed and here to “rescue” her.

And if that wasn’t enough, basically immediately after, we get Rhysand super injured because some assholes just shot him with ash arrows? Like, no. It’s Hybern. Ofc. Fuck them.

Okay, love how whenever Feyre has a question/problem, she just goes and traps the Suriel

They’re mates! Yes! I knew it! Thanks Suriel!

Okay, Feyre, wtf? Why you running away into a secluded cabin? All Rhys wanted to do was protect you.

But lol, Mor telling Feyre to paint her eyes next to Amren’s so they can all judge the boys is great. I love it.

Finally, finally Feyre just accepts it. God, you’ve been family for ages already jfc just accept it and can we move on please?

Okay, Rhys talking about he was dreaming about Feyre for years, even when she was mortal, and how she was all that kept him sane Under the Mountain was just heartbreaking

THEY SHOWED THEM VELARIS AND THEN THEY WERE ATTACKED

I know the nice queen warned them not to trust the other queens, but seriously? Velaris?! The only beautiful thing left in this fucked up continent? You assholes

“So I won my wedding ring without even being asked if I wanted to marry you.” Wow. Figures it would go something like this.

So the whole “let's go destroy the Cauldron” part sounded sketchy from start to finish lbr, so I was just waiting for something to go wrong

I just didn't anticipate it to be that wrong

First Feyre puts the Books together. Which. Idiot

Then Jurian shows up. I'm not particularly sure his storyline (am still confused about his history) to tell us that he's just been sent here to distract us

And then they shoot Azriel. And all I'm thinking is “Fuck they WOULD target Azriel”

And so they can't do shit. The most powerful people ever, Feyre with all seven court lords’ powers, Rhysand as the most powerful High Lord, Cassian as a ridiculously powerful Illyrian, Mor who was auctioned off as a bride because of her power – none of them could live a god damned finger. And I was SO worried

And then fucking TAMLIN AND LUCIEN STEP THROUGH

NO

HELLS NO

I have to be reading this wrong. <Goes back to reread last line of last chapter> Fuck. No.

Fucking Tamlin is delusional and Lucien’s loyalties are ridiculous and you literally just let the dude who wants to destroy the whole world in through your backyard so it'll be easier for him to destroy your world, and all for what?

But noooo, we’re not done yet. The mortal queens show up

And we learn they've given up their whole world to be made immortal. Like, what?

And then we’re thoroughly fucked because  Feyre’s sisters get dragged in

We learn that the King of Hybern can use the Cauldron to turn mortals immortal. And Nesta and Elain are the test subjects

(Keep in mind that I am reading this whole ending, starting from like right before they reach the Cauldron, in line at lunch. In public. And I couldn't scream or flail and it was torture)

Cassian’s WINGS. Omg I almost forgot. Cass no. He'd rather have death than not be able to fly Cass NO

I almost lost it - would've started crying had I not been in public – when they made Elain go first.

Elain comes out Fae, which, yay? At least she’s not dead. And she's immortal now

Nesta goes down, kicking and screaming and cursing the King of Hybern. And that line – that line of “I knew something was different”, I nearly knocked into somebody in line before me because I was so worried it would say she was dead

But she wasn't. Thank the Cauldron. Actually, fuck the Cauldron

But we’re not done yet. Not even close.

Because Feyre starts to say she's willing to do anything – give up anything – to those she loves. To save her sister. And – oh no – a feeling of dread starts to build up…

Feyre fucking manages to convince everyone that she was indeed under Rhysand’s spell and she's in love with Tamlin again. Like, no Feyre.

And if that wasn't enough, fucking Feyre asks – asks – the King of Hybern to break their bond. NO NO NO. We just spent like five hundred pages trying to make the bond are you ducking kidding me?

It happens anyways. And we’re sobbing right alongside Feyre. As she returns to the Spring Court with Tamlin and Lucien

And then we get a Rhysand PoV. And we learn that LOL actually, the mating bond wasn't cleaved. Just the whole bargain one. And also, LOL, Feyre can now be a spy for us. And also, LOL, we got married last night. And also, LOL, I made her the High Lady of the Night Court so fuck y'all fuckers

Tbh, that one Rhysand PoV at the end was my saving grace. I don't think I foul would've been as soothing if we heard it just from Feyre. I needed to have known that Rhysand was on board too, that this was what we had to go with

I mean, I'm still not actually happy with the ending, but it's (spoiler alert: EoS) still one hell of a better ending than EoS. Fml #savefeyre

“When you spend so long trapped in the darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.” – Feyre Archeron

The Characters:

One thing that I really loved about this second book was that we really got to see how Feyre grew, as a character and as a person and how she learned to fight. Like in the beginning, she was so helpless – or, rather, she thought she was helpless and should just subject herself to Tamlin locking her up, but then she runs away and starts training with Rhysand and it gets so much better. But not immediately, because that would be unrealistic. Instead, Feyre slowly learns about her abilities and what she can do with the powers of all seven High Lords, and it’s a slow process. Especially in the beginning. She has no control – she’s just been made High Fae, so it’s understandable. But to read about the trials and error she undergoes, how she learns how to winnow and how she works on her water abilities in the Summer Court because she’s near Tarquin and how she finally gets over Tamlin (mostly) and shapeshifts and it’s great. It really is. Feyre has become a bamf and I can’t wait to see what she can do – what she will do – now that she’s an official spy in Tamlin’s Court. She’s no longer going to be held down, locked up. Not anymore. Not this High Fae Feyre. Not the High Lady of the Night Court. No, if you upset Feyre – if you get on her bad side – you better pray to whatever god or Cauldron you believe in that she leaves and piece of you behind when she’s finished. She can defend herself now, fight for her own rights, and I think that’s so important.

Rhysand is not an asshole. What do you know? Well, I never thought he was a complete asshole, even in ACoTaR, because he was just subjecting himself to Amarantha Under the Mountain to protect his people, after all. But then in ACoMaF, we learn just how far he’s willing to go for his people. To protect Velaris. And honestly, Velaris is like a fucking dream. It’s beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to protect this city? And we learn Rhys has sacrificed so much of himself for others, to make those he love happy, to make sure his friends weren’t Under the Mountain and even initially giving up on Feyre because he just wanted her to be happy, even though if it meant if he’d be suffering for all of eternity. Like, Rhys, when have you ever done something nice for yourself? You should. When this trilogy ends, you better treat yourself good. I mean it. That’s an order.  

Cassian is amazing. He’s so entertaining and fun and I love him. He’s like the jokester of the group. Except after hearing his backstory, you start to wonder why he’s the jokester. Why he’s so goddamned happy all the time and – more importantly – how? Like, Cassian’s childhood was shit. Azriel at least knew he was special and Rhys. I mean, with Rhys, everyone knew he was the child of the High Lord of the Night Court and thus his powers were through the roof, even if he was training with everyone else. But with Cassian. Oh poor Cassian. I felt so bad because Cassian was just a regular guy who just wanted to prove his worth but wasn’t allowed to and he had to go through so much and he deserves all the happiness he gets right now and and and his wings! I almost screamed when I read about his wings being burned off (or ripped?) and I can’t. He has to be fine. They have to be fine. They said an Illyrian warrior would rather die than not be able to fly, and I don’t know about you, but I can’t have Cassian dying on me. Nope. That’s not going to happen so you better buck up and get those wings fixed mister before I even get to ACoWaR.

Mor is Nehemia. But more badass. Like Nehemia fought with words and subtly, while Mor was in your face and you had to defend from that. Mor is great. I really wish Feyre had bonded with Mor more. (Wow, “Mor more”. That sounds weird even in my head while I’m writing it.)

Unlike Mor, I didn't know what to think of Amren for a while. She seemed okay. She's Rhys’ second in command so she had to be a good person, and capable. And then we learn more about her. About how she's not of this world – of how she's so fucking powerful, she's currently on a leash. (Rhys mentioned at one point to Feyre that if all else fails, he’ll find a way to unleash her powers on the world and kill himself first.) And she drinks blood. Which I did immediately think when Feyre saw her not eating, but I thought that would be too Twilight-esque. Apparently not. Still, she's not a vampire so I'm not particularly sure what she is. I want to know. I want to know what Amren really is, and I want to see her going full out and ravaging the King of Hybern. That would be a sight to behold.

Azriel is my kind of guy. He's silent but he's always present and he's so damn good at his job, it bothers him when he can't accomplish shit immediately. He's like always on call and he's just as capable as everyone else in the Inner Circle and it’s wonderful.,

Tarquin is freaking awesome. I really liked him. I didn’t think I would. But he was an idealist, a young High Lord, and he was like Rhysand. Except not as cunning. I think he would make a wonderful ally. And I think, if we just explain the situation to him, we could get him on our side, making him understand why we needed the Book. Also, side note, Tarquin sends giant rubies personally engraved as a sign of aggression. Like, sign me up please! Where can I get some of those?

Tamlin is a fucking bastard. There’s no nice way to put it. Tamlin is a bastard and I can’t believe I liked him before. Jfc. Did you have to ruin everything, Tamlin? Everything. He ruined literally everything. And for what? A woman who no longer loves you because you had locked her up, didn’t listen to her. A woman you didn’t treat as your equal. And you wonder why she wanted to escape so badly from you? Why she’s still secretly escaping? You are delusional and you are an idiot and I really hope you come back to us (because you’re hot) because otherwise, you’re going straight to hell, a grave right alongside the King of Hybern and Ianthe and Jurian.

Lucien is honestly not much better. Could be worse. Still doesn’t question Tamlin. Still doesn’t try to fight him. He knows Feyre is wasting away. He knows Tamlin is doing some dumbass shit. He knows. He has to know that Tamlin making that god damned bargain with the King of Hybern was the stupidest thing he could’ve ever done, but did I see him do anything? Nope. Just sobbing over a once-human mate. You’ll get what’s coming to you, Lucien, unless you convert too. I’m sorry, but I really have no pity for you. You’re not dumb, Lucien, nor blinded by love, like Tamlin can claim, so I don’t really understand why you aren’t protesting more – your protested more in ACoTaR when Tamlin wouldn’t tell you shit about the curse! Jfc Lucien I know you can do more, so I better see you step up your game, talk to Feyre, otherwise if she leaves you behind, I won’t protest.  

With Ianthe, I really should've seen it coming. Because she was just such a randomly introduce character whom we had no background for, unlike Lucien, so we couldn't even see if she was semi-decent and she's complying with Tamlin’s every wish and ignoring Feyre and dressing her up and not an actually friend. One thing I'm glad this book did is teach Feyre who actual friends are and what they'd do for each other. Aka. The Inner Circle and not Ianthe.

“The issue isn’t whether he loved you, it’s how much. Too much. Love can be a poison.” – Rhysand

The Ships:

Feysand (Feyre/Rhysand): Is beautiful. They’re mates. I knew it! I predicted it ever since Rhys’ eyes went wide Under the Mountain. That parting scene. And it’s everything and more that I could want from them. Really.

Azriel/Mor: Is the saddest relationship ever. I don’t mean sad like Tamlin/Feyre said (that’s just messed up) or sad like there’s no chemistry. I mean sad like why the fuck haven’t they fucked yet? Like, Azriel doesn’t think he’s good enough or something, and I guess Mor thinks the same, because of what she had to undergo as a powerful woman born in the Court of Nightmares. Like, no. Literally, “Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars” should not be the best quote about your relationship. Please fix this. Please. Someone, anyone. Feyre? Rhysand? Amren? Cassian?

Nestian (Nesta/Cassian): it’s not just me, right? Like, this is an actual thing? I think they’re mates. I also think they’re going to tear each other apart before they admit that, but hey, it’s Nesta and Cassian. That wouldn’t be surprising at all.

Elucien (Elain/Lucien): These two are actually mates. And honestly, I think this could work out really well. Or really badly. Like, Elain is the one who was engaged to an anti-faerie guy, but Elain is also a lot nicer. A lot less strong-willed than Nesta. So as long as Lucien isn’t an ass – which, honestly, he seemed just shocked – we should all be good with this pair. They seem like they’ll be cute.

Tamlin/Feyre: Is someone seriously still questioning the shipping dilemna? There isn’t. Tamlin is an ass and it’s Feysand all the way and if you aren’t Feysand that’s some fucked up relationship you’re behind right there. I’m not about that shit, sorry not sorry.

“I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.” – Feyre Archeron

My Questions:

Just what are the limits of Feyre’s powers?

Like, she has the power of all seven courts, all seven High Lords. Does she have a limit? I want to see her go full out. The Cauldron was practically singing to her. She would tear the whole god damned world apart if she mastered all seven courts. And it would be glorious to watch her do so.

Wtf happened when Nesta went into the Cauldron?

Like, Feyre said that with Nesta (in comparison to Elain) it was different. Did Nesta get more powers? Was Nesta’s grudge against the King of Hybern going to come into play.

Wtf is Amren?

I really want to know what Amren is. To see the full extent of her powers. Because she will decimate her opponents, especially without whatever leash holding her back that Rhys casually mentioned that one time. I want to see her go to town on the King of Hybern. She better. It’s the least she can do, after everything her friends have gone through.

“No one was my master – but I might be master of everything if I wished. If I dared.” – Feyre Archeron

My hopes/predictions for the future:

I finally get what #savefeyre means

And I wholeheartedly agree

Yes, she’s a spy, but she’s also your mate Rhysand. Go and get her back god damn it.

Also, it might be stupid and naïve of me, but I’m still holding out hope that Tamlin joins them.

I have slightly higher hopes that Lucien will understand. Or at least work with them (Feyre, mostly) because his mate has been taken. But I think Lucien understands and can sympathize better with Feyre in general, so I have higher hopes that he’ll really join their forces and work with Rhysand and see that the Night Court isn’t just a bunch of assholes

Oh, that’s another thing I want to happen: people seeing the Night Court as it truly is – a split between the Court of Nightmares and the Court of Dreams. People being able to see – and appreciate – Velaris (fuck those mortal queens. Fuck those bitches to hell. I’m with you on that Feyre)

Although, the Court of Nightmares does exist still, so I really hope that after everything is said and done and the King of Hybern and fucking Ianthe, that bitch, and the mortal queens and Jurian and everyone is disposed and taken care of that we can go back with Mor and Cassian and Azriel and sack the god damned place. And return the wonderful treatment Mor received during her time as a female in that underground

Another thing: Amren. Amren and her power. I really want to see what the fuck she can do – what her limits are

And Nesta and Elain! I want them to fight alongside Feyre & co. That would be ideal. And drag along Lucien.

“To the stars who listen – and the dreams that are answered.” – Rhysand