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bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago

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Getting Out: Tim Gutterson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fallmoreinloveeveryday @elenavampire21 @floralfloyd @lamaudite

Companion piece to:

Lucky - Tim's assignment doesn't go to plan.

Stars - Tim's not like the other guys.

Chocolate - Tim saves the last bar for you while you're off base.

The Good Book - Tim makes you a promise you don't think he can keep.

Sharpnel - You make sure Tim has a piece of you when he's airlifted to Germany for surgery.

Germany - You and Tim spend some time together during a three hour lay over in Germany.

Your decision to leave the military is made when Tim is forced to spend the night with another woman. You’ve been negotiating with Hina Faazi, Iraq’s foremost information broker for weeks to get the location of ten captured US soldiers when she takes one look at the man you love and tells you she wants him.

You laugh in her face.

She laughs back.

And that’s when you realise she’s serious.

It gets into an argument in Arabic, a heated one with harsh words and wild gestures. You tell her in as many ways as you can to go fuck herself before Major Maddox steps in, separating the two of you.

“She can fuck him.” He says, tilting his head towards Tim, who’s been struggling to follow the conversation with his passable knowledge of the language. “No overnight stay, she gets two hours at most before she sends him on his way.”

The look on your face must be mutinous because the Major fixes you with a stare that burns through the very depths of your soul as he says.

“Ten lives for a couple of hours with him. You do the math Lucky.”

The problem is you’ve done the math and any way you spin it, it’s an excellent deal, one you’ve made yourself in the past because when you work in intelligence, you use all your assets including your body. The issue is that for you it was a choice, for Tim it’s an order.

In that moment he has no agency, no authority, he’s just a tool to be used in service of his country.

His hand finds yours, squeezing your fingers tightly before it slips from your grasp. He squares his shoulders as he begins the slow march up the stairs of the Iraq speakeasy.

“You must think that I don’t sympathise.” The Major says as you sit at a table near the bar, your eyes fixated on the clock. “But I do. You’ve done this before, you know-”

“It was never forced on me like this.” You tell him as you nurse a glass of whiskey you don’t intend to drink. “What you’re doing is akin to sexual assault, you don’t see it because in your eyes he’s just a man doing his duty-”

“I do see it.” The Major says, throwing his own drink down his throat before using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “I know that I’ve just sent one of my men, someone who trusts me, who has put their faith in me up there to do something truly unspeakable. The difference is I’m not fucking him so my stake in this isn’t personal. Yours is and that’s why you’ve got you panties in bunch.”

“I’m not jealous.” You tell him directly. “He doesn’t look at her the way he looks at me, there’s no love, there’s no desire, there’s no passion. He’s just providing a function. My problem is, is that you don’t understand the emotional toll that something like this takes. Could you imagine someone ordering your wife to do the same, your sister? You’d want to kill them right?”

The Major tilts his head, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you saying you want to kill me Lucky?”

“That would be an offense wouldn’t it?” You respond, swilling your glass so the ice cubes clink together. “Threatening a superior officer.”

“What do you want from me here?” He questions you. “You want me to go up there and stop what’s happening?”

“I’d say the time for that is over.” You murmur, raising your gaze to the swinging chandelier. “But you can help me contain the aftermath, help him deal with what he’s just been forced to do because trust me, you don’t want to be in Tim Gutterson’s scope and that’s what’s happen if you drag him back to base tonight.”

His eyes widen then because Major Maddox, he’s forgotten what a man like Tim can do, especially when he’s pushed to the brink.

“I’ll get you a room at the hotel that overlooks the base.” He says, summoning one of the men from his security detail to fulfil his wishes. “You can patch him up there, do whatever you need to but you should both be back by 9:00 hours, any later than that and you risk court martial.”

That’s good, it means constant running hot water as well as a little privacy to tend his wounds, because there’s going to be wounds, it’s something Hina is known for with her conquests.

When the clock strikes ten you’re already on your feet. You barely make it up the first two steps before the door opens at the top and Tim appears, tucking his regulation t-shirt into his combat trousers. His jacket is slung over his left shoulder, the name tag torn from the pocket.

A souvenir you realise, of an evening spent ruining a US Ranger.

As he descends the stairs, Hina leans against the doorframe clad in a vibrant silk robe. Her dark hair falls over her features as she lights a cigarette before meeting your gaze and smiling.

“I don’t think he’ll be going again tonight Ilana.” She says calling you by your real name. “I think I exhausted the poor thing.”

You have no doubt in that moment why she chose Tim tonight. You must given yourself away somehow, some unconscious slip you weren’t aware of. The two of you have been adversaries for years, playing this ridiculous game of wartime chess. You’d bested her the last time and this right here is her revenge.

It’s when you get to the hotel and Tim steps into the shower that you see the marks she’s left on his skin. Long, angry scratch rake up his back, each one vicious and deep. He hisses as the heat rains down over them, the blood intermingling with the water as it disappears down the plughole.

“How bad is it?” He asks you as he places both palms on the tiles, watching the crimson stream. “Because it feels fucking awful.”

“It’s gonna scar.” You say frankly, reaching underneath the sink and pulling out the metal first aid kit. It’s rudimentary at best but you’ve worked with less. “But we’re going to do our best to minimise it, make sure you don’t get an infection. Take the time the time you need, I’ll be in the bedroom when you’re ready to come out.”

He spends another thirty minutes in the shower while you sit on the canopy bed, organising and then reorganising first aid supplies. It becomes a game, guessing how much you’ll need for each mark she left upon his flesh.

You don’t hear him leave the bathroom, it isn’t until he sits on the edge of the bed in front of you, the white towel draped over his hips that you realise he’s there. It’s a trauma response, you realise because you did this to him, you put him in that bitch’s path.

“Did she break us Lucky?” Tim asks you, his accent thick as he turns his head so that you can see the profile of his face. “Do you look at me and see what she did?”

“No.” You whisper, your hands coming to rest lightly on his shoulders, your lips brushing over his temple. You can feel the tension ebb out of him as you sprinkle gentle kisses across the slope of his neck, each one a tiny ray of sunshine bringing him back to life. “I see the man I love, the one who had to sacrifice a part of himself to save the lives of ten people.”

“How many times?” He asks you, taking your arm and guiding it around his neck so that you’re holding him. Your cheek comes to rest against his as his thumb lightly caresses your forearm. “How many times have you had to do this in the name of your country?”

“Enough that I’m still surprised there’s anything left of me.” You tell him honestly. “Does that make you love me any less?”

“No.” He whispers, swallowing hard against the ache in his chest. “This war, it’s going to murder us if we let it, our bodies, our souls...”

“I know,” You tell him, placing a kiss on the bite mark she left in his shoulder. “That’s why the two of us need to talk about getting out.”

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matrixx-level · 2 months ago

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if steve and bucky were both the winter soldier

Often, the Asset wondered if the outside world truly knew what the cold was - if people could experience it deep in their bones, like the Assets could. If human beings were capable of opening their chests and letting the cold sweep through their insides, rendering their organs frozen and their blood dark, sluggish icicles.

The Asset was not unsure of much - its programming for efficiency, control, and brutal precision did not allow for uncertainty. But the Asset was certainly not sure of humans - of how they functioned so irrationally, so emotionally, so freely, at such a consistent rate. Where would the Asset be without its Handlers? Without the Chair? Without the elimination of distractions, such as family, and 9-5s, and Thanksgiving meals?

The Asset has not known freedom, or emotion. Well. The Asset is definitely sure of one thing, out of all things. Even more sure than of Hydra - of order through pain.

If the Asset felt emotion, it would feel it for Asset 02. The other half of the Winter Soldier - the other half of Asset 01.

“The target is on the move,” Asset 02 idly remarked in Russian, voice barely above a whisper. It was looking through the scope of its rifle, and Asset 01 was leaning against the roof next to it, flipping a knife into the air and catching it between its fingers for recalibration purposes (to pass the time-)

Asset 01 was meant to be watching Asset 02 closely, taking notes and remembering as much as possible for when it would have to do the same on a similar mission. Asset 01 was not doing so. Asset 01 was pretty sure it was malfunctioning. Robots were not meant to disobey, to ignore a mission. The Chair must have been faulty for the reset this time around. The Asset had spotted a newspaper clipping earlier on their way to this building, and it had said it was the 1990’s. It has been at least ten years since the Winter Soldier was last operational. Perhaps the Chair had begun to rot away in the Winter Soldier’s absence?

“Shoot him,” Asset 01 whispered, catching its knife and not throwing it again as it mechanically turned its head to watch Asset 02 with narrowed eyes, its head tilting in an uncanny move that should have made the gears in its neck grind. The Asset was made more of metal than flesh, even though it had no other metal in its body than the arm it had attached to its shoulder that matched its counterpart.

Asset 02 breathed out, and squeezed the trigger, obeying immediately.

That was the other thing Asset 01 was most sure of - traitorous though it was. Against Hydra, it was.

Asset 02 would do anything Asset 01 said, even if it was ordered to kill their handlers and burn everything to the ground.

Especially then, maybe.

Asset 02 hummed under its breath, satisfied when the target’s head popped like a balloon, blood spraying and body dropping and going stiff and cold. It stood up straight and began to disassemble its rifle, eye leaving the scope and dark, long hair flowing in the gentle breeze.

Asset 02’s grey blue eyes cut over to hold Asset 01’s own electric blue, pinning the Asset in place. If Asset 02 could smile - if robots could do as humans do - then it would in that moment. Small, and lethal, and cutting, full of the teeth Asset 02 only shows when ripping throats out in fights. “Why do you disobey?” Asset 02 seems to ask, though it does not open its mouth. No, it twitches its eyebrows and its lips curl the slightest centimeter and its fingers tap on the parts of its rifle its packing away, and that is enough for Asset 01 and no one else.

Asset 01 also stands up straight, sheathing its knife and checking all of its guns and looking off into the horizon, where the sun is just beginning to rise. The target’s family will find the target’s body in just a few short hours, and the chaos that Hydra wants to unfold from the perfectly framed kill will play out exactly as planned. The Winter Soldier will have been responsible, and no one will know.

“The Chair must have malfunctioned,” Asset 01 murmurs in Finnish, pausing only for a moment before continuing quietly. “Or the Asset was always going to malfunction, and the Handlers have not updated the Chair accordingly.”

Asset 02 scoffs lightly, its muzzle mostly covering its expression except for its slightly tightened eyes that squint in the rising daylight. Its rifle pack is zipped up and slung across its back as the Winter Soldier begins to climb down from the building, quick and silent, just as it was programmed to be. “The Assets will rust if they do not maintain us. Do these latest batch of Handlers not know how to Handle machines? Is regular maintenance not important for the Winter Soldier to operate at 100% efficiency?” Asset 02 grumbled, its voice gruff with annoyance and the gravel of not having spoken in a long time.

Asset 01 would have laughed if machines had the programming to do so, poking Asset 02 in the cheek in a teasing manner. Asset 02 lets it happen as they walk in the shadows, making their way to the meeting point for pickup - not that it would resist if it was able to.

Sometimes, when the Winter Soldier has been let out of cryofreeze for an extended period of time, the Assets will begin to break down, little by little, like a car slowly deteriorating over time without a driver. The cold will seep into their flesh and metal parts, and the unfeeling, yawning, empty chasm behind their ribcages will threaten to consume them.

The Assets know that they do not operate like other weapons do - that they are more like if people were weapons, than anything like a cousin to a knife or a gun. They bleed, and feel pain, and when they look into each other’s eyes, the emptiness fills with something outside of their prerogative - something the Handlers would be angry to know they can experience, and would erase with the Chair.

The anguish of feeling and being nothing will get to them, and they will ask the other to hurt them, poke them, kiss them. Make them feel something. They will seek sensory input from each other’s skin, and the other will not resist because they are the same.

Their beating hearts belong to each other, their bodies belong to each other, their own corrupted, fried minds belong to each other. That is the biggest thing that separates them both from human beings and other, non-sentient weapons.

They can tear each other apart, and it will be all they could ever want. They will enjoy it, and ask for more. They will never say no, because why would a half say no to the other half that which makes it whole? Why would an entity that is the same thing split into two separate parts pull away when they, these two parts, are the only things that understand each other? That could ever show the other kindness in their dark world where they don’t even know what kindness is?

Asset 02 grumbles some more and lets Asset 01 poke it again, swatting Asset 01’s chest only in retaliation. Their heavy, booted feet should echo as they march through alleyways and down back roads, but they are silent, like ghosts.

Sometimes, Asset 01 wonders if they are ghosts instead of weapons. They feel nothing, they are only real to each other (unseen and used by their Handlers when they are not being ignored the rest of the time), and they move through history like half-forgotten after images of decades long past.

Every time the Asset thinks this, it is then reminded that ghosts do not bleed, and their hearts do not beat, because they are dead - which means the Winter Soldier is very much alive. The Asset still thinks they are some form of dead - closer to relating to those who are buried six feet under, than those that wander the Earth, smiling and laughing and so alive as they run through parks and dive into the foaming waves of the ocean and gaze up at the stars with all the feeling in the world.

“Our original Handlers would not have let such a thing happen, if it is the case,” Asset 01 murmurs in Russian. “The Russians were in complete control, and were constantly progressing the Chair as much as they could. Hydra is much more straightforward. They put us in the Chair, and then when they tire of us, they put us in cryofreeze and expect it all to work flawlessly.”

Asset 02 huffs a small breath, shifting its stance ever so slightly so while they walk their shoulders brush together and press as they both step on their left and right foot, Asset 01 responding in kind. Even here, where no one will see, the Winter Soldier is conscious of showing too much care - the instinct to hide their absolute devotion to their other half ingrained in them after a long time spent of being beaten and yelled at.

Machines are not meant to feel care. They are not meant to feel at all.

(And yet. Asset 01 has known Asset 02 all its life. Asset 01 and Asset 02 are The Winter Soldier, and they are inseparable, and whatever new Handlers or Scientists try to separate them suffered the consequences. If The Winter Soldier could feel, it would feel for itself. Asset 01 and Asset 02 would decimate the universe for each other, over and over again, just to look into each other’s eyes one last time. Hydra, and the Russians, never could rid them of that.)

They reach the meeting point, melting out of the shadows behind their Handlers that were waiting idly outside of the van and jumpscaring them as a result. If robots could feel smug satisfaction, that is exactly what the Winter Soldier would feel at the sight of seeing their Handlers so afraid for that split second before the two men composed themselves.

Sometimes, Asset 01 wanted to crush every throat in sight while it and Asset 02 walked through the bases Hydra kept them in. Sometimes, it was not enough for Asset 02 to sink its fists into Asset 01’s face and make it bleed. Sometimes, all Asset 01 wanted, more than anything, was to paint the halls red with the blood of every single human being that existed within the Winter Soldier’s vicinity.

Sometimes, Asset 01 wished to fill these bases with oceans of Hydra agent lifeblood, drowning itself in it until all the Asset 01 knew was a thick, viscous warmth that chased away the chill deep within the Asset’s bones that never leaves.

And sometimes, Asset 01 is blankly thinking as it and Asset 02 climb into the van and they drive off back to base, the city they had infiltrated like a poison seeping into someone’s veins fading away the further they drive, the base they are occupying for now coming into focus as the van rolls to a stop, the Winter Soldier climbing out and being led in by their Handlers and a group of agents armed to the teeth just in case the Assets need to be contained, the world slowly narrowing down as they’re led into the deep sub-levels of the base and to the Chair where they will be reset-

Sometimes, Asset 01 looks into Asset 02’s eyes, holding its gaze with a dizzying intensity, and Asset 01 could see that Asset 02 thought the exact same. Asset 01 could spy the oceans of red crashing and forming tsunamis behind Asset 02’s pupils, and Asset 01 knows, without a doubt, that Asset 02 would follow Asset 01 to Hell, where they would both drown in everyone’s blood.

As the Winter Soldier is placed into the two identical Chairs that Hydra had made just for them at the exact same time, the halos lowering over their eyes and the rubber bits being shoved into their mouths, their super-strengthened hands gripping the arms of the Chair to the point that the metal begins to bend and mold to their grip, the electricity charging and the programming readying as they initialize the sequence, Asset 01 looks over at Asset 02, the both of them facing each other as they occupy the middle of the room, and Asset 01 knows that no amount of wipes from the Chair could ever erase Asset 02 from where it is permanently carved into Asset 01’s body and soul, where it belongs.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Stevie,” a voice echoes distantly, in the back of Asset 01’s mind, and faintly, as the world melts into white and its brain is wiped out by an agony unknowable to mortal minds, Asset 01 wonders is this the end of the line? and does not know what it means.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stevebucky #steve x bucky #writing #my fic #and it tastes something like blood in the snow while a train speeds off on its tracks as sam wilson #natasha romanoff #clint barton #and tony stark are staring into the blank #tortured eyes of the winter soldiers #and wondering #what the hell did they do to you?

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medakakurokami · 2 years ago

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I finished over 100 visual novels, here’s a long post with some recommendations

Last month I hit 100 Finished VN’s over on the VNDB and I thought I’d shoot out some recommendations while the Steam Summer Sale is going on (even though some of these aren’t going to be on Steam)

I already have finished up some stragglers and caught some shorter titles so it’s up to 104 Finished, but all the better. I have been reading some VN’s since 2015, but it really became a hobby and a genre I was invested in during Covid lockdown in 2020. I had trouble getting into some of the popular titles, but a couple of games that were lesser known at that time really blew me away that year and I started digging more into the medium. I still have a lot to try out and other classics I’m still interested in trying, but here’s a top 10 I’m confident in recommending to most people, at least the kinda people that would follow this blog. A few of these recommendations are actually multi-part series, but hopefully accessible all around.

Planetarian ($10 on Steam and Switch, ~$5 on sale)

This is a very late entry onto this list but I think it’s an easy recommendation. This is a very short 2-4 hour visual novel that got a well received 2 hour movie adaptation in 2016, but it was strong enough that even while knowing the plot everything still hit hard. It is a story set 30 years after an apocalyptic event destroys most of the world, as a human junk-trader comes across a planetarium with a somehow-still-functional robot named Hoshino still performing her daily duties after 30 years without customers or coworkers. It can come across as a bit saccharine, but it is a quick, well made, and effective tearjerker.

Narcissu 1st & 2nd (Free on Steam)

Narcissu’s first two parts are pretty compelling stories to do with suicidal ideation within the scope of the terminally ill. Which is to say they’re also real tear jerkers, and pretty open about some harsh self-reflective emotions. They both have stellar endings, and can be quite immersive despite the very limited artwork (if the screencap looks weird, the game’s art exists within a narrow strip on the screen, with a sentence or two reading out the story underneath it). Maybe the least accessible on this list, but a $0 price tag makes it easier in some sense to get into.

Umineko no Naku Koro ni / When The Seagulls Cry (~$50 on Steam, $30 on sale)

Umineko you’ve probably already heard of, and here’s me recommending it. Umineko comes in two parts, on Steam referred to as the Questions Arc and the Answers Arc. Despite the split, the overall story follows the events of a certain day on Rokkenjima Island in 1986 as a family meets to discuss their inheritance and their family’s mysteries. Unbeknownst to them they are soon haunted, over and over again, by the revenant of the Golden Witch said to live in the woods of their family’s island.

I’m in the minority of preferring the Questions Arc, where well written and deeply human characters find themselves in deeply inhumane and nonsensical scenarios. The Answers Arc back seats some of that to start delving into an esoteric explosion of clues and backstories, and was still very entertaining even if I was more invested in the episodic stories than the overarching mystery. This may also be seen as inaccessible, $30-50 for a slightly older title and over 140 hours long on average playthroughs, but it is deeply absorbing.

Witch on the Holy Night a.k.a. Mahoyo ($40 on PS4 and Switch)

Mahoyo is me and Nasu’s marriage counselor, it really made me see the good in him. It follows a young witch co-habitating with her magic colleague and the puppy-like boy that unwittingly steps into their world at risk to his own life, just as unexplained apparent murders are witnessed in their town.

This could possibly be a higher level recommendation, though it was apparently intended to have sequels and you can somewhat feel that in the isolated feeling of its main conflict. Despite this, the game is definitely worth experiencing for its classy charm and extremely well made action sequences that at times make you forget you’re not watching a full anime film. It’s also a showcase of Nasu’s strengths in writing character interactions and comedy, and he finally lets Show take over and stops Telling you piles of mage society worldbuilding quite so often. It is also has some of the highest quality production value I’ve ever seen, second maybe to...

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon ($20 on Steam/Switch, less than $10 on sale)

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon is an explosive opera of art, energy, color, and of course music. It follows the orphaned Marco and her dragon compatriot Arco as they hunt for treasure across the cosmos, finding their way to Earth on the hunt for Marco’s mother.

If Umineko’s 140 hours seems steep, Marco has you covered with a quick 6 hour rundown of a rebellious orphan fighting back against her space alien menace to find her own sense of place and identity in the universe, along with ALL the friends she made along the way. If Mahoyo feels like an anime film sometimes, Marco actually just has fully animated FMV cutscenes that are fun as hell and have their own unique artstyle to the VN itself. Thousands of pieces of artwork and a 52-track OST fill the game’s short runtime with no cut corners and and overflow of passion from the devs. Honestly even if you don’t want to read it go buy it, it’s cheap and they earned it.

White Album 2 (You’ll have to be creative to find this one)

This is the only recommendation that’s currently only available in an adults only 18+ Rating for the English translation. That being said, it’s one of the few erotic VN’s that felt justified in its pornographic scenes. The story is split into two releases: Opening Chapter and Closing Chapter.

Opening is a short and powerfully delivered love triangle narrative following Haruki, Setsuna, and Touma as their hastily formed 3-man light music band falls into itself with feelings. It’s charming but gut wrenching and sweeps you into its drama very effectively before kicking you on your ass in the end.

Closing Chapter is a long and drawn out disassembling of their lives as they fail to heal from the wounds of the relationships seen in Opening. It, to great effect, takes the readers own experience with how fun and passionate the Opening Chapter was, and shows how trying to cling to halcyon days can make us so dispassionate about our present lives. Painful stuff! Good music, too.

The Princess, The Stray Cat, and Matters of the Heart 1 & 2

a.k.a. Noratoto ($40 on Steam for both, ~$15 for both on sale)

This is a very personal recommendation, and maybe one more easy to make on this blog where many of my followers might be receptive to sincere but slapstick ecchi comedy as art. Every route is highly different however and to me, some are pretty average for galge, while others stand out as amazing. The comedy writing as well feels like it was written by someone with actual comic writing experience, and not just regurgitating the usual ecchi manga jokes.

The general premise of Noratoto is the protagonist Nora, being transformed into a cat by Patricia the princess of the Netherworld, and he must reverse this curse via a kiss before it becomes permanent. A benign fairy tale premise, but one that somehow gives way to underlying stories about existence and finding purpose in families and where that leaves those without families or with abusive or divided families (it is from the same developers as Marco and the Galaxy Dragon, and the themes of finding identity without family match up very closely). Uniquely it is a visual novel written somewhat in 3rd person, narrated by a motherly voice as if the VN was being read to you as a bedtime story.

Like I said, it is dependent on route and some come across as your usual ecchi gal-game schtick, but some stick out, and if every route was as high quality as Nobuchina’s in the 2nd game, it would probably be my favorite visual novel.

The Original Ace Attorney Trilogy ($30 on most platforms, $10 on sale)

You’ve almost certainly heard of Ace Attorney already and have most likely played it. This is me telling any Ace Attorney fans reading that the original trilogy still reigns supreme (regardless of Turnabout Big Top). This is also me telling anyone who has held out on trying Ace Attorney to try it, and to start with the original trilogy.

Obviously this trilogy follows the Meme Man Himself, Phoenix Wright, as he defends the innocent and brings the guilty to justice acting as both lawyer and his own main investigator. While each case presents a unique mystery, the original trilogy has an underlying arc that reaches from beginning to end with a massive conspiracy that Phoenix has to breach to bring justice to the perpetrators and resolve the memory and regrets of his beloved mentor.

These games have some speedbumps as you may be banging your head against the wall trying to find the right evidence, but the experience that breaks through does so with gusto, succeeding on what it sets out to be: games that make you feel like you’ve brought justice to the world.

Utawarerumono Trilogy ($40/60 each on Steam, trilogy bundle $62 on sale)

Utawarerumono was my first proper visual novel, and it set the standards pretty high. I’ve posted about it several times in the last few years, and it remains one of my favorites. It is a labor of love on the part of the developers (the same developers as White Album 2), who developed the latter two games over the course of several years and have made this the spearhead of their company for the time being. Which makes sense, since it is about war.

The first game follows a masked man who is given the name Hakuoro waking up in a rural village with amnesia, confused about the strange population of beast-men living there. Despite not understanding his situation, his ingenuity brings the village prosperity. When the local lords try to put the village under their thumb, Hakuoro and the villagers are able to turn the tides against them. Their village grows into a kingdom as Hakuoro seeks the mysteries of himself and the world around him.

The latter two games pick up some twenty years after the conclusion of the first, and follow a man who is given the name Haku, waking up in the woods with amnesia confused about the... you get it. He is met by Kuon, a young girl on her way traveling to the capital of their nation of Yamato. Haku graciously accepts her help getting out of the cold woods, and decides to join her to the capital. As events play out, Haku finds himself under the direct command of the nation’s leader the Mikado, and carries out missions on his behalf as the nation continues to drag itself into war and conflict and Haku also seeks the truth of his identity.

These games are expansive in scope while still putting a large focus on the day-to-day lives of its characters. Around 100 hours across all three games it is impressive how much story it manages to fit in, but the pacing does bounce around between sweeping conflict and sleepy conversations. It is also in part, a strategy RPG game with the battles in the war being controlled by the player. These are decently made, especially well in the third game, but don’t ask too much of the player and the story remains the main focus and biggest portion of the runtime.

The House In Fata Morgana a.k.a. Fatamoru

($40 complete version on PS4/Switch, ~$40 main game + expansion on Steam)

I’ve gushed about this enough on this tumblr, I’ll keep it brief.

You are a formless soul who is led by the hand of a mysterious maid through the doors of a mansion on an unknown plane of existence. Through each door lies a story of the house in a different era, all following people bound together in ways that leave them cruelly and violently undone by the end of their stories. The connection between these stories, the mystery of the house and the supposed witch that resides within, and the mystery of You the wandering soul all slowly unravel in a bloody show of catharsis and soul. The game is dripping with traumatic poetic text, grating beautiful music, and all of its atmosphere geared toward being oppressive yet enticing. One of the best things I’ve read.

Honorable mentions:

Va-11 Hall-A and Endless Mondays get shout outs as some of the best Original English Language VN’s I’ve read, with cool artstyles and a mature cast they manage to be fun and relatable. Va-11 Hall-A delivers a great arc for its protagonist and Endless Mondays has great dialogue on the threat of automation of creative industries.

Grisaia Trilogy and Hatsumira are both absolutely raucous trilogies that are a lot of fun. Not wholly recommendable to all, Grisaia has some strong moments and a hilarious unique cast but is a mess overall (but we love Michiru). Hatsumira is a bit more consistent, a more stable and fantasy-oriented Grisaia.

A.I. The Somnium Files duology are detective games with highly divisive endings, but great comedy and characters that make them very easy to get through and enjoy the whole way to the end. It’s just a toss-up whether you’ll like that ending.

Sakura Wars games are finally being translated, and they are a great showing for anyone who wants to try some classic dating sim stuff but with some pizazz thrown in with the setting and mecha combat.

The Tears to Tiara duology by the same developers of Utawarerumono and White Album is also one to keep an eye out for. The first game's definitive version isn't available in English and the second game is stuck on the PS3 and no longer available digitally, but if they ever come out on Steam they are worth your time.

Nanairo Reincarnation and Kinkoi: Golden Loveriche are also two solid ecchi comedy galge. Both have surprisingly deep and genuinely heartbreaking underlying mysteries and conclusions.

I still have a lot I wanna read, Planetarian is the only Key novel I’ve read. On the docket are Labyrinth of Galleria, Little Busters, the 9 -nine- series, and Kara no Shoujo and White Album 1 releasing on Steam this year. Some classics I didn’t mention are Fate/Stay Night, Muv Luv, Steins Gate. Muv Luv I read Extra and enjoyed it, but never pulled the trigger on reading the rest, I may at some point on a whim. Steins;Gate I played through half of on PS3 and now my PS3 is in the closet, the VN is really good and has a unique atmosphere to the anime, buuuuuuut knowing the plot has made it hard to want to restart on PC or another console. Steins;Gate is good, if anyone is reading this far and hasn’t seen the anime or read the VN, do it.

#long post #i'll only tag the main ones #planetarian #narcissu #umineko #witch on the holy night #marco and the galaxy dragon #white album 2 #the princess the stray cat and matters of the heart #noratoto #ace attorney #utawarerumono #the house in fata morgana

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zoeykallus · 1 month ago

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In His Crosshairs

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Masterlist Warnings: "Minor" Violence and injury _______________ AC:

In Case anybody is wondering about the song beeing sung in this chapter, it's this one: Good Things Go ________________

Chapter 3. No Second Shot

The comm tower was quiet now.

The bodies had been dealt with. Your arm was bandaged, stinging under fresh synth-skin, and your blaster sat in your lap like a weight you weren’t sure you could carry again.

Crosshair stood by the door, gear packed, rifle slung across his back. He hadn’t spoken since the last bounty hunter dropped. But you could feel something heavy in the air between you. Not quite anger. Not quite closure.

Just unfinished business.

You broke the silence first. “So what now?”

His back remained to you for a long second. Then he turned, slow, deliberate, and walked over, stopping just a few feet away.

“You’re lucky I'm not a good soldier,” he said. His voice was calm. Too calm.

You looked up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?”

He mutters, "Good soldiers follow orders" You blink, not sure what he was on about, “Was that supposed to be comforting?

“No.” A pause. “It’s supposed to make you think.”

You rose to your feet, wincing slightly. “I told you. I didn’t know what I was carrying.”

“And now you do.”

He was close enough that you could see every line in his face. The set of his jaw. The way his eyes pinned you down, same as they had when he was aiming down a scope.

“You’re not turning me in,” you said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

“No.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. Just a flicker. But it was there.

Then, his gaze sharpened.

“Because I think you’re smart enough not to be this stupid again.”

You almost laughed. “And if I’m not?”

He stepped forward. Just enough to make your breath catch.

“Then next time,” he said, voice like steel, “I won’t miss.”

The crosshair tattoo over his eye pulsed with that quiet threat. You didn’t doubt him. Not for a second.

“You’re letting me go,” you said. “But this isn’t over.”

His mouth twitched. “Not even close.”

You nodded slowly. “Fine.”

He stared at you a moment longer. Then turned.

Walked to the door.

Paused.

“One warning shot,” he said without looking back. “That’s all you get.”

And then he was gone.

You stood alone in the silence of the tower, the cold wind seeping in through the cracks in the walls.

You should have felt relieved. Safe.

Instead, your heart was racing.

Weeks later:

You didn’t recognize the distress signal when it first lit up on your console. Just another encrypted ping bouncing off an abandoned relay station.

But the coordinates? They weren’t far.

Too close to ignore.

You debated it for a solid minute, hands hovering over the controls, foot tapping against the floor of your mostly functional ship. Then, with a muttered curse and a shove of the throttle, you changed course.

You told yourself it was just curiosity.

You were lying.

The canyon was steep, narrow, and littered with smoke. You kept the ship low and quiet, sensors pinging every few seconds as you zeroed in on the signal. It took a second to see him, black armor half-covered in dust, rifle beside him, his leg pinned under a collapsed outcropping of rock.

And worse: three hostiles circling above. Blasters out. Not bounty hunter, mercs, maybe. Trained, armed, and absolutely out for blood.

You landed hard enough to rattle the panels.

Doors opened before the landing ramp touched ground.

“Hey,” you shouted as you stepped out, weapon raised, voice smug and far louder than necessary. “Funny seeing you in the dirt.”

Three heads turned. Too late.

You fired twice. Clean hits.

The third one ducked, fast, but not fast enough. You didn’t get him, but your shot knocked him off balance long enough for Crosshair to recover his rifle.

One shot. One breath. Gone.

Silence returned.

The wind kicked up dust, blood and tension.

You lowered your blaster and strolled forward, chin tilted up just enough to make your grin feel like a weapon.

“Look how the tables have turned.”

Crosshair didn’t respond right away. He was breathing hard, propped against a boulder, his armor scraped and blood streaking down one thigh.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, because of course he did.

You crouched next to him anyway.

“Sure,” you said. “You look great. Real intimidating... if I squint.”

He gave you a look that could have frozen fire. “Are you here to mock me or get me out?”

You made a show of thinking. “I mean… I could leave you. Wait around for the next group to finish the job.”

He didn’t flinch. “You won’t.”

You clicked your tongue. “Why not?”

He looked at you. Really looked. That tattoo drawing your eye like a magnet. His voice dropped just enough to hit somewhere deep in your chest.

“Because I let you walk away.”

That shouldn’t have made your heart do what it did. You stood abruptly. “Yeah, well. Call it even.”

You helped him up, awkward, heavy, but steady. He hissed once when the weight hit his leg, and you caught his arm before he stumbled.

The contact was too warm.

Too familiar.

You guided him toward your ship, trying to ignore the way his fingers tightened around yours, just for a moment, before he let go.

“You’re limping,” you said, a little too smug again.

He shot you a sideways glance. “You talk too much.”

“Must be the concussion from watching me save your ass.”

He didn’t respond. But you saw it, the twitch at the edge of his mouth. Almost a smile.

Almost.

The hum of the ship's engine thrummed low beneath your feet as the planet shrank behind you. In the cockpit, the nav was locked in. Smooth jump to hyperspace in less than a minute.

In the back?

Crosshair sat on the edge of the bench in your medbay alcove, one leg stretched out, jaw tight, eyes sharper than ever, even while bleeding.

You crouched in front of him with a med kit and a scowl.

“Stop glaring at me,” you muttered.

He didn’t respond. His gaze was somewhere else, not on your hands, but over your shoulder. Scanning.

You knew the look. He was cataloguing everything.

And there was a lot to catalog.

Your ship wasn’t standard. No cold chrome. No Imperial precision. Instead:

Music playing low over the comm system, a rough, steady rhythm.

A dog-eared book, half-opened, wedged into a compartment above the seat.

Trinkets on the shelf. Old flight pins. A dented flask. A ragged scarf tied around a pipe that served no function.

A painted panel on one wall — something someone once called art.

He didn’t ask about any of it. He just saw it.

But you could feel the shift. Like he was starting to understand something about you he couldn’t quite articulate yet. Something that unsettled him more than a firefight.

You finished cleaning the wound. “You’ll live,” you said, gently pressing a bandage over the gash.

“Obviously.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, for someone who almost died today, you’re in a remarkably shitty mood.”

“I don’t like being shot.”

“I don’t like being hunted,” you shot back, voice quiet now. “Yet here we are.”

That made him pause.

The music shifted. Something angrier. You weren’t sure which track. It had bled into the playlist naturally, but now the lyrics felt too raw.

I tried so hard and got so far...

He looked at the speaker. Just for a second.

“You listen to this on purpose?”

You gave a half-smirk. “It helps drown out too loud thoughts.”

He looked at you again, longer this time. Like he didn’t expect the honesty. Like it did something to him he didn’t want you to see.

Then his gaze dropped to your hands, still stained from the fight, still shaking a little.

“I flinched.”

“But you didn’t run.”

You shrugged. “You were bleeding. I didn’t have time to run.”

Another pause. Then, so soft you almost missed it: “You could’ve let me die.”

You looked up. Met his eyes. That damn tattoo again. Always watching. Always targeting.

“I could’ve,” you said. “But I didn’t.”

The silence stretched again, broken only by the music.

Then:

“You should change your codes.”

You blinked. “What?”

He nodded toward the panel. “Your ID tag. Your registration’s still flagged from the last planet. If you’re going to keep flying with that name, someone’s going to find you.”

You stared. “You… checked my tags?”

“I had time.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. So you leaned back, set the med kit aside, and looked at him.

“You still gonna turn me in?”

“No.”

“But you said...”

“I said no second chances,” he said. Then added, almost like it hurt, “This wasn’t a chance. This was a… complication.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m a complication now?”

He looked at you like you’d said something obvious. “You always were.”

You stood before he could say anything else, moving toward the cockpit.

Behind you, the music changed again. Low and intense.

And as you slid into the pilot seat, you realized something:

For the first time since he walked into your life, Crosshair wasn’t just watching you like a target. He was watching you like a person. And that scared you more than the bounty hunters ever did.

The hum of the ship had faded into the background hours ago. Now it was just you, the faint ache in your shoulder, and the quiet pull of the engine coils that needed organizing, or maybe just touching, just something to keep your hands moving.

The playlist kept running. A track drifted in, one you usually skipped when someone else was around.

You didn’t skip it this time.

“Good Things Go.” You weren’t really thinking. You were somewhere else. Half-remembered regrets, sharp edges dulled by fatigue.

And your voice, soft, low, almost a hum, joined the melody.

Say I hate you when I don't... Push you when you get too close... It's hard to laugh when I'm the joke... But I can't do this on my own...

You didn’t notice him shift in the cot.

Only you can save me from my lack of self-control... And I won't make excuses for the pain I caused us both... So thank you for always standing by me even though... Sometimes bad things take the place where good things go...

The last note faded.

You blinked, suddenly aware of the room again. Of him still behind you. You turned your head halfway, not meeting his gaze, not needing to.

He hadn’t moved.

Not much.

But you knew he’d been listening.

Maybe not to the words. Maybe just to the sound of you. The way your voice had softened. The way your guard had slipped.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t react. Didn’t ask.

Just kept his gaze steady, unreadable, cool, but not unkind. And maybe a little longer than necessary, he didn’t look away.

You cleared your throat, turned back to the compartment. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

He didn’t respond.

But his voice came a few moments later, low and distant:

“…Didn’t sleep.”

That was all.

But somehow, it was enough. Maybe it was somehting in his voice, in that moment, that told you, he wasn't as cold as he was acting.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@thecoffeelorian @littlemissbshine

#star wars #tbb #x reader #bad batch crosshair #crosshair #crosshair tbb #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair the bad batch

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superectojazzmage · 2 years ago

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Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

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herotome · 11 months ago

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Devlog #147

Hi-ho, Wudge here. Early devlog because I postponed last week!

Here's a wip of Myster's hero outfit:

I haven't quite narrowed down a color scheme yet, and his helmet tassel should probably billow out a bit more...

..... I'm really doing everything in my power to delay a proper face reveal as long as possible l o l, since he takes a while before he shows up in-person in-game.

Because the first time you meet him, you might see something like--!

DUNDUN!!!

I coded my first chatroom scene using Nighten's renpy phone asset!

It's technically a placeholder, because the end result should look and function more like this concept art -

But having the chat conversation be functional and on screen, even if it doesn't encapsulate the full scope of what I envisioned, helped me make some progress in small areas such as...

Drawing custom emotes for Griffin (and only Griffin):

(... I wanna draw more emotes for the other characters but I dont have any good ideas yet lol)

And character profile pictures!!!

I'm gonna take an extra moment to talk about how I DREW GRIFFIN IN A PICREW STYLE... I didn't just make an avatar on picrew, okay?!! I drew it by hand!!!!! Behold:

All the layers! You can see where I took some shortcuts like, not fully drawing out the cup bc most of it was gonna be covered by the hand haha.

I also coded in a function to resize and crop the MC's picture in-engine so -

I don't have to waste time manually making lil pfps for the base MC set (or for any future MC designs)

YOUR custom uploaded MC image will be automatically resized for you!!! (Though you might have to reposition your image if it's not centered... Or maybe it wont make a difference bc you used a picture of fried chicken or potatoes for your MC.)

It's been a blast to work on this, I really enjoyed making images for it. Each icon is about 100x100 pixels or smaller, so it feels really low pressure, fast, and fun.

... Oh, right.

I also did some writing and editing!

And I got to a point where MC can see Gemini, the former leader/Ms Hiatus herself, in an online video.

... I've gotta put her in a square and customize the textbox to make it clearer, though, that she hasn't shown up in person or anything. Haha.

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

#herotome update #interactive fiction #oelvn #visual novel #otome #otome game #english otome #indie game #ro: myster

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smallgodseries · 1 year ago

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There is some debate, among extremely inconsequential theological circles, as to whether he is a small god in the traditional sense—a divinity risen out of the ether in response to a perceived gap in the functionality of the universe—or a small god in the ascended sense, a person who became so associated with one of those perceived gaps that the universe, rather than making something entirely new to fill the hole, simply made due with what was already there.

Either Ambrose was a general in the American Civil War, fighting against the Confederacy on the side of the United States against the horrors of slavery, a man of infinite complexity, of unrecorded thoughts, dreams, and ideals, capable of change and growth, or he wasn’t. And if he was, it must be asked what kind of sins he committed in his life, to deserve this eternity. Yes, he has a god’s abilities, but limited to such a narrow scope, such a narrow slice of all he was, than in his case, godhood seems a punishment.

He will make your sideburns glorious and thick. Your facial hair will be the envy of all who look upon you, even those who would, under normal circumstances, find it unattractive. Your moustache will, as they say, bring all the boys to the yard, and they’ll be like, it’s better than ours.

Damn right, it’s better than theirs. You could teach them, but you’d have to charge.

And all the while, the small god of sideburns weeps unnoticed.

#small gods #seanan mcguire #lee moyer #smallgodseries #icons and stories

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majorasnightmare · 7 months ago

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also because im still thinking of it

like they arent FULLY people, are they? being a person is incidental to what they are, because what they ARE is a tool

people come into the world, and maybe have a destiny, maybe fate has something in store, but above all else they are free actors able to determine their lives for themselves, caught in a web of circumstances and social inertia but not beholden to it

dirge though? aylin? they have PURPOSE. built into them from the beginning, divine will etched deeper than dna, potent and compelling and powerful and utterly magnetic. theyre tools meant to interface with people, to be beholden and worshipped, to enact divine will where the gods cannot walk, to interpret the voices of the gods and communicate that vision to the masses

selune doesnt MIND that aylins a person, but it isnt a built in functionality, and isobel even points out theres times aylin isnt even particularly good at it! she doesnt understand time the same way mortals do and leaves on walks that last over a month. she copes with trauma by falling back into her role as selunes sword of retribution. the difference therein is just that aylin isnt punished for trying. when she reacts to lorroakan the same way she reacts to ketheric, it isnt satisfying, it isnt emboldening or empowering, shes traumatized, like a person would be, and not only does selunes retribution have no place punishing an upstart wizard whos main crime at that time is being an asshole, theres no place in that healing process to just. fall back on old habits. aylin was hurt like a person and can only heal like a person, but it isnt intuitive, less so than for other traumatized people, because aylin is a person by choice rather than by intrinsic nature

dirges trauma ive already dedicated a lot of word space to but essentially just. like hes a knife meant to bloodlet the world. hes a dagger shaped like a tiefling. if he has thoughts or schemes, its because a tool meant to kill people has to understand them to be able to competently execute its function. a Thing meant to mimic personhood to get close enough to maul and slaughter, clever enough to slink away unnoticed to go about it all again. divinity cloaked in flesh, limited in scope but narrow and focused in purpose and intent, like the narrowing sights of a railgun about to fire

and divinity is fueled by, tethered by, faith and worship and recognition, so it must be that, when cloaked in flesh and sensation, this amorphous conceptual power develops a tangible detectable presence, the way a snake can taste temperature. a core deep hunger for something that cant be swallowed, but a need that can be fed nonetheless. a spark that needs kindling, and every fervrent prayer and binding oath sets the embers to blazing.

theres the slayer form, of course, murder incarnate, but its a gift crafted by bhaals hands and bestowed upon whomsoever he finds worthy. its bhaals power, bhaals will, it doesnt reflect you or what you are in any capacity. but i think that each fragmented spark housed in godflesh warps and adapts to its casing, becoming something like but unlike its creator, something personal and intimate. a godspawn is not theyre creator, after all, a crafted tool but distinct unto themselves

tapping into that wellspring of divinity, shedding the shell meant to Talk and Evangelize and Guide, disconnecting that innate spark from the barriers that shield and shroud and smother it, to stop playacting at personhood and just Be, oh it must feel absolutely delicious. no doubts, no restraints, just Purpose and Doing, a sword unsheathed from its scabbard at last, all glorious Zeal and Horror and Beauty, nothing between you and the fire now, just Being and what you are is a tool, a weapon, and there is nothing but the faith and the certainty of it, and that being the proof more than anything just how much you are Not Like Them

a person loses their Self and its a nightmare, its horror and violation, because a person is Autonomy and Will and Choice and Desire, and to lose that is to lose the core of you, to become Something Else. but for them, for dirge and aylin and godspawn, its a bone deep satisfaction and rightness, its shedding everything unnecessary and irrelevant and existing fully, completely, nothing but Divine Aspect, haloed like the saints of olde, a holy messenger of Sacred Will incapable of being understood by mortals, for what mortal could understand having such a purpose etched into their very being? what mortal could truly understand the pleasure in being nothing more than what you are, a perfectly crafted tool that desires above all else to be used? a chisel craves a keen edge and a surface to bite into, to do its job and know it has done it well, to know without any shred of doubt (for what tool was ever crafted that could doubt itself?) what it was made for.

to be a person is a luxuriating indulgence, one only made possibly by their function necessitating an understanding of, a mimicry of, people. its an indulgence the gods crave and one that selune will never deny her daughter, and one that bhaal seeks to destroy, and its an indulgence both of them gleefully participate in with varying amounts of success, but its so easy to forget that underneath the veneer of flesh is something that was sculpted and made, not truly born. but there is nothing quite like them in all the world, not until you peel the layers of history back and back until you arrive at the era of myth, and even then mortalkind did not walk the land like they did now so even those lofty figures do not quite understand the urge, the desire, to trade certain purpose for ambiguity and choice.

just. ugh. dame aylin fully letting loose and her face becoming a blank canvas of holy vengeance, haloed by the symbol of her mother thats always, always, illuminating her from behind no matter what angle you view her from, a disc of light defying sense and physics, eyes a flat gold lit by burning silver, an incarnation of holy fire manifest, justice made flesh. no rage or anguish, just perfect inhuman composure, a vessel of mind boggling power that exists upon this plane but for the briefest of cosmic moments.

no slayer form, no oath to bhaal, just dirge finally shedding those final obstacles between him and what he is, finally wholly in tune with his own nature now that it is no longer cast as chains to bind him to anothers will. murder and slaughter incarnated. a disinherited bhaalspawn is still one made of godflesh, a chisel cast aside still carves stone. a halo of red, cracked through, ringed by the tears of bhaal. face blank and utterly devoid of expression even as bloodied tears stream down his cheeks. a prince of gore in a world of red. death, death, death in droves, death in numbers, death dancing upon a knifes edge, no gleeful indulgence or maddened joy, just sweet holy perfection, satisfaction all the way through his core, delicious and certain, blessed bliss

these things are not people, save for love. for the love of being a person, for the love of love, for the love of partnership and comaraderie and romance, an indulgence of the highest caliber and endlessly rewarding even as it brings pain and suffering and indecision and confusion, because who else could appreciate the wonders of it than one for whom it IS a choice?

#dirgecore #dirgeposting #bg3 #bg3 durge #bg3 dark urge #bg3 the dark urge #dame aylin #bg3 dame aylin #bg3 headcanons #okay thats all the important shit #but PLEAAAAASE imagine aylin doing malenias phase 2 valkyrie attack but with the optional silver tears she summons

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loopy777 · 11 months ago

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So I've read 'The Reckoning of Roku'

This isn't a real review, just my impressions and reactions. No spoilers.

I'll start by admitting that to me, Randy Ribay is no F.C. Yee. I vibe perfectly with Yee's stuff, to the point where he's on my "Read Anything They Write" list; I vibe with his genre choices, his dialogue, his characters, his scope, his storytelling, etc. By contrast, Ribay's writing is functional for me, but nothing more, and feels bit more narrow. There are a few instances, even, where I think he made some amateurish wording choices, but most people probably wouldn't be bothered by it and that's likely me just being snobbish. What I'm leading up to is that I think the story is Fine, and I don't have the enthusiasm for it that I do for the earlier Avatar novels, but neither do I think it's bad.

Part of that ambivalence is our familiarity with Roku. Compared to Kyoshi and Yanchen, we know a lot more about him. We have an entire episode of AtLA devoted to his life story. This book finds a slot we haven't explored before, but I think I could summarize the feel of the story by describing the prologue: the book opens after Roku has learned he's the Avatar but before he says goodbye to Sozin, then skips the scene where said goodbye is said (since we saw it the cartoon and I guess there was no desire to novelize it), then resumes the next morning for their final public formal goodbye, all while trying to achieve the same feel and impact of the actual goodbye scene from the cartoon. Similarly, my impression is that the book covers a character arc for Roku which feels very much like what was covered in 'The Avatar & The Fire Lord,' presented as a kind of microcosm of that lifelong story, via events set shortly after he begins his Airbending training.

For all that, though, it fits poorly considering what we already know about Roku. These novels have been very free with retcons, especially when it comes to Avatar Kuruk, but I've been pretty tolerant of that since so little was known about those characters previously and they obviously weren't constructed to be protagonists of their own stories, just props to Aang's. But Roku was a bit more developed and got a whole episode devoted to his life story, so I feel like some things are revealed about him in this book that should definitely have been mentioned in 'The Avatar & The Fire Lord.' Likewise, what we see of Roku's Airbending training in the cartoon doesn't really fit with this story, and I feel like a hint about Sozin's father in the cartoon is interpreted in an awkward way here. None of it "breaks canon" or anything, but it sticks out as a poor fit.

But I'm sounding pretty negative so far. Let's talk about what I like in the book.

Young Gyatso is wonderful. 10/10 no notes, as the kids say.

Sozin is a real piece of work, as he should be.

Ta Min is a lot more interesting than I expected.

As I've noted in a lot of my talk of the AtLA comics and the other Avatar novels, I'm usually very down on forced references to random stuff in AtLA/Lok, and especially needless explanations for elements of those stories which would be better just as something random. However, there's something in this novel that's both a forced reference and a needless explanation, and I thought it was hilarious and wonderful. So good on Ribay for making that work for me. I'm still grinning about it.

The plot is more straightforward than the previous novels, but still creates tension and mystery. It also has a few beats that feel rather mythical, which I always enjoy. And I think it does a great job creating a balanced set of stakes, where things feel urgent and important without leaning on the old Fate Of The World too much.

The story feels complete while also having some very clear paths for the sequel to follow.

So, overall, I think the Avatar novels continue to outshine the comics, even if I don't want to kiss this book.

#reckoning of roku

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