#death battle can suck my metaphorical dick

[draculx]

GOOD LUCK ON FIGHTING DIO TOMORROW

...

                                 who tf is dio

[need-a-fugue]

And Barista Makes Three

Summary: It was suppose to be fun… something new and exciting that you and Bucky could do together. But there is such a thing as too many cooks in one kitchen…

Author’s Note: Written for Ayesha’s 1K Writing Challenge with the dialogue prompt, Screw you. Thanks @browngirlmagic​ for letting me play with this prompt!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: References to sexy times, no actual smut, though (sorry).

Word Count: 2,500ish

The bickering has officially gotten out of control, snotty remarks and vicious glares now giving way to an out-and-out shouting match in the common room.

Not cool. Off-days at the compound are typically pretty chill… death-defying missions, intensive training sessions, and hours-long debriefs being enough to suck the life out of all of you until your only remaining desire is for peace and quiet. Especially at breakfast time… especially pre-coffee.

But calm is simply not on the menu today. Not when Bucky waltzes in – still gross and sweaty from his morning run – and declares – with the petulant air of a spoiled-rotten child – that he doesn’t want any of the eggs you’ve so kindly prepared for him.

Your face twists, lips pinch. That smoldering fire in your gut blazing back to life yet again as you shriek, “Why the hell did I bother making them, then?!” before tossing the half-full pan into the sink.

Sam bristles at the sheer decibel of your voice, his own a mere whisper in comparison when he sets down his coffee and announces, “I would’ve eaten them.”

Gradually, other teammates filter into the common room – as Bucky growls out a bitter retort and you angrily grab the pan and repeatedly slam it into the sink – just to see what all the fuss is about.

Steve lingers in the doorway and lets out giant huff, fisted hands falling to his hips as he shakes his head in disappointment. “What the hell has gotten into you two?” he asks, a hint of concern bleeding through the frustration. “One minute you’re all…” He makes an awkward, waving motion with his hands, almost wincing when he says, “can’t keep your hands off each other…”

“It’s really pretty gross,” Natasha interjects as she rounds the counter in search of coffee.

Steve’s brows shoot high as if to say, uh, yeah, before he finishes with, “Now it’s like you’re leading separate forces into World War III.”

You roll your eyes dramatically. Leave it to the Captain to turn your little lovers’ quarrel into a battle metaphor. “He’s being a dick,” you announce with a sharp lilt, dropping the pan for a final time and spinning to stare Bucky down. You fold your arms tightly across your chest, lean your hip into the side of the sink, and glower at the man. “That’s what’s gotten into us.”

Bucky’s face cracks into a smug sneer. And he laughs – a short, sardonic chuckle that makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “That is not what got into us, sweetheart.”

You shoot him an icy glare, voice low and dangerous as you emit through tightly gritted teeth, “You can’t keep making out like this is all my fault. You agreed to it.”

His steely countenance shifts, eyes widening and jaw falling slack, expression cloaked in utter disbelief. “Because you said you wanted to. You fucking told me it would count as your birthday present.”

Steve takes two large strides into the room, impatience sloughing off of him in waves. “What is going on?” he laments thickly. “Seriously!”

You turn to him, tense hands falling to your hips in an agitated posture that mirrors his own. And you spill. “We had a three-way with the girl from the coffee shop and now he’s all…” You wave a dismissive hand in Bucky’s general direction, “pissed about it.”

Silence. Pure, deep, penetrating silence rings throughout the room.

Steve blinks – once, twice – as he tries to process your words. “I’m sorry,” he stutters out finally. “What?”

Bucky sighs, long and languid, before twisting towards you, his face an odd mix of solemn reproach and barely contained amusement. “Who’s the one person I said could never know about this?”

You snort out a laugh – a quick, inadvertent sputter of absolute delight – and keep Steve’s gaping expression in your line of sight as you lean into Bucky and ask, “Is he having a stroke?”

Sam jumps up then, shoving his stool away from the breakfast bar with a piercing scrape along the hardwood floor. He waves a hand distractedly through the air, waits for you to turn, and then – brow deeply furrowed – he mutters simply, “Wait. You had a threesome?”

In tandem, you and Bucky both offer matching slow nods.

Natasha slinks forward, sly smile on her face barely hidden by the mug of hot coffee that she delicately brings to her lips. A slow sip as she stands by your side, staring you down assessingly. “The blonde?” she inquires with a lilt.

You turn to face her, give another nod. “Yeah… the blonde. Sarah… something.”

One corner of her lips quirk higher, pure amusement lighting her eyes. “The one who’s always coming on to you,” she mutters, raising a single brow high. There’s no question in her voice. Doesn’t need to be.

Before you can say a word, Bucky barks from behind, “Exactly,” and lets out an irritated huff. “I don’t even know why I was there.”

You spin round on a heel, your face mere inches from his as you hiss out, “Oh, screw you.”

“That’s all I was hoping for, sweetheart,” he says with a too calm affectation. He reaches around you to grab a mug of coffee for himself, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours. “But you went and made it weird.”

“Weird?” Sam scoffs, brow still furrowed, eyes now narrowed. “Man, I’ve see that chick. She is hot. You were in bed – naked – with two damn hot women. And it was weird?”

He shakes his head, nose crinkled in something akin to disgust. His gaze veers pensively away as he takes a sip of coffee, words flowing languidly out of him as though prudently narrating the memory playing in his mind’s eye. “It was a just a bunch of… arms and legs…”

Natasha gnaws at the corner of her lip, voice barely above a whisper when she bites out from over your shoulder, “Don’t think you were doing it right.”

His gaze ices over as he turns on her, glaring daggers. But she simply wiggles her eyebrows in response, her attention only returning to the rest of the group when Sam lets out a low whistle and a rather wistful, “Hot arms and legs.”

“You don’t get it,” Bucky snarls, jaw ticking as he drops his mug to the counter with a thunk and leans forward heatedly. “It’s not hot to watch your girlfriend get… get… plowed by someone else.”

An annoyed groan bubbles out of you. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “She was totally into you.”

“She didn’t even know I was there,” he responds, tone low and subdued as he turns back to face you, the heat from his still-sweating body pooling in the small space between the two of you.

“How could she not know you were there?” you ask, raising a teasing brow, hoping to crack his sour expression. “Your penis was inside of her.”

Steve lets out an audible gasp, air pulling in between his tightly gritted teeth with a horrified whistle.

“I was never inside of her,” Bucky announces, ignoring his friend’s reaction and keeping his stare trained on you.

“Well, why the hell not?!” you ask, voice rising in both volume and pitch. You give him a little shove back, a mostly playful pop to his chest with the heel of your hand. “I picked her because you obviously have a thing for her.”

His brows twist in absolute confoundment as he stares unblinkingly at you. “What?”

“You’re always staring at her when we go get coffee… watching her,” you try, shoulders rising in a short, baffled shrug.

“I’m always keeping one eye on her because it’s obvious she’s after my girl.”

The fire in your core flares, burning up your neck and heating your cheeks in an angry flush. “If you really think that, then… then… why did you agree to do it?!”

He pulls away, taking a single large step back to widen the distance between you. “Because you wanted to,” he spits out, face twisting into an incredulous snarl. “You said it’d be fun. You… you…”

You stare at him, both brows raised, waiting for him to stop sputtering and finish his thought.

But all you get is, “You know what? Screw you.”

“Very mature,” you snipe, rolling your eyes yet again.

“Mature?!” His hands fly up into the air, exasperation peppering the wild movement. “You just… cheated on me. In my own bed. With me in it!”

“Wait a minute,” Sam says suddenly, tone painfully serious. “This happened here? In this compound? With hot coffee blonde? When? Where was I?”

You ignore his vapid inquiries, the heat between you and Bucky too consuming to allow your attention to be pulled away from the argument at hand. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.” You watch as his angry expression cracks, just a bit. “I did this for you,” you say, tone almost pleading. “Because I thought you’d like it. Because you were so… bored.”

He pulls back, face pinching tightly. “Bored? What the hell are you talking about?”

A short breath catches in your chest, candid – aching – words spilling out like stinging bile the moment you release it. “You used to be all over me… every minute of the day.” You pause just long enough to choke back a thick swell of emotion, the earnest depths of his gentle, too-blue eyes drowning you in all the care and concern swimming within them. “When… when was the last time we fucked in a supply closet?” you ask, tone tender and imploring. “Or on the elevator?”

“Whoa,” Steve blurts out. “What?!”

Natasha merely shakes her head dolefully as she continues to loom over your shoulder, idly sipping her coffee. “I really need to get into the security footage around here.”

But you couldn’t care less about the others in the room, nor their reactions. Not when Bucky steps close and pulls your hands into his grip. His head gives a small, hesitant shake and he locks onto your eyes. “Baby, I’m not bored. I just… we don’t need to do that shit anymore. We’re not still sneaking around.”

You drop your gaze, glance down at the large hands – one warm flesh, one cool metal – tenderly encasing yours. “I just… I don’t want you to get tired of me.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up into a cocky, crooked grin. “And you thought that you could prevent that by bringing in someone else for me to fuck?”

You shrug, still not looking up. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Man,” Sam breathes out from behind. “Where are you two getting your tips on how to spice up a relationship? Penthouse?”

You roll your eyes, tossing the Falcon a quick glare before – finally – looking back up at Bucky. “Fine. It was a bad idea. And an… awkward night.” You let out a sigh and slip from his grip, leaning heavily back into the counter before grumbling, “And, yes, there were too many… limbs and… appendages in the bed. And… and…” You shake your head absently, throwing your hands flippantly into the air. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t really know what I was grabbing… or who. I’m pretty sure I spent five minutes cupping my own boob.”

“No, that was me,” Bucky corrects quickly, just before a look of confusion washes over his face. “Unless that wasn’t your boob…”

You pull in a deep, settling breath, release it as an almost nervous chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Bad idea.”

“We only have a queen-sized bed,” he mutters, brows pitching high as his gaze trails off into space. “I don’t know what made you think there’d even be enough room for the three of us. I spent half the night with one foot on the floor.”

“She kept pulling my hair,” you lament lamely as you reach up to idly rub your still-sore scalp.

“No, that was me too,” he says with a shake of his head. “Didn’t mean to, but I was falling off the damn bed and you were the closest thing to grab hold of.”

“And there was so much… sweat,” you mutter with a disgusted lilt, looking up and connecting with Bucky’s far-off gaze, the two of you sharing a wholly commiserate slow nod. “Like a whole ‘nother body’s worth of sweat.”

“Yeah, why do you think I kept slipping.” He shrugs. “That, and I kept catching elbows from the barista any time I got too close.”

You snort out a laugh and curl into yourself – into him – an errant apology brewing in your chest, choking out of you in a pitiful grunt that only Bucky could possibly comprehend. “She said she was into it… into you.”

He lays his metal hand atop yours as it sits on the counter, twines your fingers together and gives a subtle squeeze. “Baby, that girl only had eyes for you.” Another shrug. “Not that I can blame her.”

“Okay, enough,” Steve says finally, his rather appalled demeanor giving way to an irritated expression and an utterly exasperated tone. “I’m sorry I ever asked. I didn’t want to know about… any of this. So why don’t you two just… go away, finish… making up… and let the rest of us figure out a way to scrub our brains clean?”

Just then Tony glides into the common room, “Scrub our brains clean of what?” falling casually from his lips as he heads for the kitchenette. He sidesteps Steve and reaches out to grab an apple from the counter, taking a giant bite before asking, mouth full and juicy, “What are we all talking about?”

Natasha sighs lightly, taking a final drink of coffee before setting her mug into the sink without so much as a clink. “The two love birds here had a three-way with the cute blonde from the coffee shop around the corner,” she recounts. “Only it turned out to be more of a… two-way with Barnes left on the outside looking in.”

Tony spins around towards Bucky, face an oddly expressionless mask. “Still worth the view, though?”

He shakes his head. “Not really, no.”

“Hm.” He takes another bite of apple before glancing over at Steve, swallows thickly and inquires, with a single brow raised high, “Take it the old man is none too pleased about your sexual escapades?”

Bucky shrugs and distractedly gives your hand another small squeeze. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“So I shouldn’t pull the footage from the south elevator to show at this year’s Christmas party?”

“Not if you want to make it to New Year’s.”

“Cute. Threats. Real nice.” Tony snickers under his breath, grabs another apple for the road, and turns to leave. “Don’t worry, Cap,” he says, stopping to pat Steve on the shoulder on his way out. “I’ve had all the communal spaces they’ve communed on thoroughly sanitized.” He tosses a quick glance back at you and Bucky, mutters, “Repeatedly,” with a raised brow, and sashays away.

Sam shakes his head impassively, beguiling twinkle bursting in his eye as he watches Steve recoil with a thick, disturbed sigh before he too turns and flees the room. “We’re living in a den of depravity,” the delighted Falcon breathes out, looking to you and offering a sly wink. “And, damn it… I like it.”

[tessatechaitea]

Review of The Twilight Zone, Season 1, Episode 19: "War Sucks"

When I write a review of a The Twilight Zone episode, I always change the title. Some of you may have noticed that because you're perceptive lads and laddies (are "laddies" women or just small lads? I guess I should have said "lads and ladies" but then I couldn't have made a parenthetical reference (which are my favorite kinds of references)). My title might be a little bit on the nose although I could have made it more on the noserer by calling it "Death Sucks." But the original title was "The Purple Testament" and if you're wondering what the fuck that has to do with anything, keep fucking wondering because I'm not going to be able to explain it. I mean, sure, Rod Serling explains it in his narration although that dumb ass says it's a quote from William Shakespeare's Richard III when it's actually from Richard II. The quote is "He is come to open the purple testament of bleeding war." So you can see why Rod Serling uses the phrase "The Purple Testament" as his title. Because the story is about war. But why the fuck did William Shakespeare use it?! How should I know? Do I look like a Shakespeare scholar? The one thing anybody would rationally think after reading just a few of my comic book or The Twilight Zone reviews is, "This idiot definitely isn't a Shakespeare scholar." What I know about Shakespeare could fit in a small book of dick jokes. Because that's what he was famous for, right? Dick jokes? I used to be able to quote the entire end speech by Othello where he's talking about not loving not enough but too much but I've gotten old enough to realize some things aren't important enough to keep taking up brain space. Now the only quote I remember from Shakespeare is "Out vile jelly!" from King Lear. It's my favorite quote to use when some other smart ass person at the party starts going on and on with things like "Life is like a box of chocolates, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing" or "What is this dagger I see perchance sleeping before me" or "Alas, Poor Yorick! I knew him. Notice how I didn't say 'well' at the end of the quote because that's not actually part of the quote and also did you know the next part of this quote is where David Foster Wallace got his title for the book Infinite Jest?" So after they're looking smug and smart showing off their Shakespeare knowledge, I'll say, "Out vile jelly!" Then I make a grinding motion with my foot like I'm putting out Gloucester's eyes! Then I like to follow it up with "Did you know King Lear's daughters were all named after sexually transmitted diseases?" They weren't but a good percentage of the time, I can convince some of the people I'm talking to that Cordelia was actually named Chlamydia. So the story is a war story and Serling calls it "The Purple Testament" because that's a phrase that's used in a Shakespeare quote that mentions "bleeding war." That's as good as an explanation as you're going to get because I doubt there's anybody in the entire academic world that can tell me what the fuck opening a purple testament has to do with war. The best I can come up with (as an amateur Shakespeare scholar which I suppose I can call myself. You can call yourself anything you want if you just stick "amateur" in front of it!) is that it's either a meta-purple prose comment about Bolingbroke declaring war or it's a dick joke. Either way, it's King Richard saying Bolingbroke has a huge erection for bloody war. The good thing is that you don't need to know anything about Shakespeare to understand this The Twilight Zone episode. Serling only mentions it because he knows everybody is going to be thinking, "What the fuck does a purple testament have to do with this fucking story?!" The premise of the episode is that a soldier suddenly develops the power to predict which soldiers are about to die. It doesn't help to save them so it's not a power that really matters. At all. Which is kind of both the point and besides the point. See, this guy is fighting a war. Everybody around him could die at any moment. So seeing death in the faces of your fellow soldiers is just a thing you begin to live with. Actually having the power to see the light of death in their faces is just a metaphor for how much war sucks and a bunch of y'all are going to die. At one point, one of the characters actually says, "War sucks." And that's pretty much the only part of the script that matters. War fucking sucks, dude. Which one of these guys is going to die today? It's a mystery but you know it's going to be some of them! Does knowing which ones help? Nope! They're still going to die! So just suck it up and cross your fingers it's not you, even though it probably will be! War sucks! From the moment the soldier reveals his power to Darrin Stephens, the astute The Twilight Zone viewer knows that he's eventually going to look in a mirror and see his own death. It's the only twist available to the story at that point. The question becomes, "How will the soldier react?" Will he rage against the dying of the light which isn't Shakespeare at all? Unless that Dylan guy stole it from a Shakespeare play (which Shakespeare would have stolen from some other now unknown play anyway!). Or will he just take it in stride and go to his death like a man was supposed to in 1959. Quietly, staunchly, and without tears or complaints. Well, this guy just takes it. Just sucks it up like never you mind. He sees the light in his face. He sees the light in the face of the man driving the Jeep taking him away from battle. And he hears about how there are loads and loads of landmines on the road ahead. And he just sits down, shuts the fuck up, and acts like a 1959 man. What a fucking fool. It might not be dignified but I would have raised a bit of a fuss. I would have screamed, "I'm not going down that road! We're going to blow up! This guy driving is going to die! I'm going to die! I don't want to die!" But then I'd think, "What if not getting away from the front lines is why I die? Maybe forcing this guy to stay in camp with me is how we both die!? How can I be sure?!" Which is probably what the soldier in the episode already thought in his head. That whole mental struggle about how he's probably powerless to stop his own death symbolically took place when he smashed the mirror after seeing the death light on his face. That was the only time he allowed himself to not act like a 1959 man. Smashing the mirror was a bit hysterical and womanly of him and he quickly composes himself and goes off to die like a fucking idiot. I mean a fucking man. That bit where I called him "hysterical and womanly" wasn't me believing that, you stupid fucking people who can't comprehend anything you read because you just want to be angry at other people. It was satire about the way people thought in the mid-20th century about gender roles. Try to keep up, asshole. The most poignant part of the episode is when we learn Darrin Stephens believes the soldier when he leaves behind his family pictures and wedding ring as he goes off to die. He, too, takes all this shit in manly stride. I'm so glad I was raised in the 70s, the only decade when we all believed a human was a human was a human, no matter their gender, race, sexual identity, or ethnicity. Some younger generations today might not believe me when I say that decade existed but that's because they live in a world post-Reagan. He and his conservative asshat brigade were the huge pendulum shift away from a path where we were all beginning to get along with each other and into a world where we were all told to hate each other because everybody else was taking our jobs or giving us AIDS or stealing our VCRs or complaining to HR about how often we touch their bottoms in the workplace. Did I say a more on the noserer title than "War Sucks" would have been "Death Sucks"? Because I just came up with the on the nosiest title of all: "Life Sucks."

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 47 - 48

My therapy bills have been steadily rising ever since I took on the challenge of reading this book.

If you recall correctly, last time we left off where some Ilkens attacked their ship and revealed the big baddie Erawan knows of her Wyrdkey. Chapter 47 picks up immediately after that reveal.

What, were you expecting an angry rant from me? Sadly, this book has crushed my very soul, and the quicker I stop criticizing SJM’s glaring flaws, the quicker I am freed from this demon.

Rowan hauled ass back to their ship, his magic near-flinging him through the air.

Man, I see why everyone says SJM’s writing is amazing. Love it when epic fantasy medieval Fae characters describe themselves as hauling their asses around, and getting all pissy at one another. Love it!

But Aelin wasn’t moving. Gavriel and Aedion, bloodied and limping, were barely moving. Fenrys, his chest a bloody mess with greenish slime —poison …

I’m sure these very painful injuries will never be brought up after this chapter. Rowboat decides to be the hero of the day and picks up a bow to shoot down the Ilken.

“A gold coin says he misses,” Fenrys rasped. “Save your breath for healing,” Aelin snapped. “Make it two,” Aedion said behind him. “I say he hits.” “You can all go to hell,” Aelin snarled. But then added, “Make it five. Ten says he downs it with the first shot.”

If these characters weren’t assholes, maybe I’d enjoy this banter. Also Fenrys, your chest is ripped open and soaked with poison, you should be knocking on death’s door by now, not making witty remarks.

Rowboat gets a clean headshot because of course he does, then tells Assdion and Fenrys to pay up, pricks. His words, not mine. The scene ends. Oh, I can totally see why a cliffhanger was necessary, so much happened after the last chapter ended.

Assdion is thinking about the battle and how he and his father fought side by side. Oh, fuck you SJM, give me that father son content!!!! I want Gav being a good dad damnit show me, don’t tell me!

[Aelin] still knelt over Fenrys, offering Rowan nothing more than a pat on his thigh as he stormed past to help with the other wounded. A pat on the thigh— for making a shot that Aedion was fairly certain most of his Bane would have judged to be impossible.

Another reason I hate Assdion’s POVs: they’re 95% him splooging over Rowboat and Alien. Like ungh we get it, Rowboat is the best warrior ever you don’t need to beat us over the head with it.

Aedion set down the pail of water [Aelin]’d asked him to get for Fenrys, trying not to wince as she wiped away the green poison that oozed out. A few feet away, his father was tending to a blubbering pirate—who had barely more than a tear to the thigh.

Hey man, not everyone can deal with pain the same way, especially not someone’s who mortal. Have you ever considered the pirate might be horrified and shaken up after witnessing his friends being eaten alive, that he might be in shock right now? Also, Gav is such a sweetheart for helping to comfort him. Lowkey shipping nameless pirate and Gav right now.

Fenrys tries to get Alien to tend to the others, which admittedly is rather noble and selfless of him, but dude, you got poison leaking out of your chest. Alien asks Fenrys how his magic works under the excuse of keeping him awake, but it’s actually so SJM can info dump at us.

“No one knows where it comes from—what it is,” Fenrys said between shallow breaths, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. “But it lets me slip between folds in the world. Only short distances, and only a few times before I’m drained, but … it’s useful on a killing field.”

Oh, of fucking course nobody knows where it comes from. This is SJM on her knees begging you and I not to think about how her world works or why her magic is so inconsistent. She just slaps abilities onto her ocs and gives no thought as to how it all works in the big picture.

“What’s your shield made of, then?” Fenrys tried and failed to shrug. But Gavriel muttered from where he worked on the still-whimpering pirate, “Arrogance.” Aelin snorted, but didn’t dare take her eyes off Fenrys’s injury as she said, “So you do have a sense of humor, Gavriel.” The Lion of Doranelle gave a wary smile over his shoulder.

I love Gavriel..... I’m stanning him..... Wait every time I want to stan someone in this novel, SJM ruins them. Shit. Never mind.

“Lorcan was a bastard in Maeve’s palace, don’t worry,” Fenrys smirked, his bronze face wan.

Unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bronze

“Your parents?” Aedion pressed when Aelin herself seemed to be straining for words. He’d seen her heal little cuts, and slowly repair Manon’s wound over days, but …

Fenrys is almost dying because of the massive wound on his chest but we really out here focusing on Alien getting exhausted, huh.... that’s the level you’ve stooped to, SJM............

Rasping, laboring breaths from both of [Fenrys and Aelin]. Aedion shifted so that Aelin could lean wholly against him, biting down on the weight it put on his already-swollen knee.

OH MY GOD WE REALLY ARE. I don’t give a fuck if Alien is a “”little tired :((”” from using her magic, FENRYS IS GODDAMN DYING. SJM STOP METAPHORICALLY SUCKING ALIEN’S DICK FOR ONE GODDAMN SECOND PLEASE.

Fenrys says that serving Maeve fufills the male Fae need to serve and blehhh its gross. But I don’t care, Gav decides to finally spill the beans on his backstory and HOLY SHIT I AM READY. GIVE ME THE CONTEXT.

Gav was a soldier who came from a noble family. Being the youngest of three brothers, he wouldn’t inherit or rule ever, so he became a soldier. That’s why Maeve took interest in him, and why he joined her.

[Gavriel] rolled his shoulders. Fidgeting. “I only hated [serving Maeve] once. Only wanted to leave once.” He didn’t continue. And Aedion knew what the unspoken words were. Aelin brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “You loved [Aedion’s mom] that much?”

I-I CAN’T BELIEVE... IN A SJM NOVEL... I’M FEELING EMPATHY AND SORROW FOR A MAIN CHARACTER....

So Gav fell in love with Assdion’s mom and was willing to attempt to break the oath to Maeve to run off with her. That’s just... so sad but so good for his character hhhhh Gav deserves the world........

Honor is my code,” Gavriel said. “But if Maeve had tried to harm either you or her, Aedion, I would have done everything in my power to get you out.

Shit, I’m such a sucker for this kind of parent/child relationship. Assdion also feels bad for being a dick to his father, so that felt amazing to read. Overall, this was a good scene. A lot is left unsaid and not jammed down our throats, but it clearly shows Gav was a selfless and as good a father as he could’ve been. Did someone break into the editing room just to patch up the scenes with Gav? Nameless editor, you are my hero.

Aelin pushed off Aedion at last, trying and failing to get to her feet. Aedion reached for her as the focus went out of her now-dull eyes, but Rowan was already there, smoothly sweeping her up before she kissed the planks. Too fast—she must have drained her reserves too fast, and without any food in her system.

Normally I’d bitch about poor wittle Alien’s feefees getting all the attention while there are men dying on the ship but whatever, that last scene put me in a good mood so we’re not complaining today, folks.

The chapter ends with Assdion keeping watch during the night with Lysandra. I can’t believe that chapter was actually decent and made me choked up... how will SJM ruin it? Let’s find out in chapter 48.

A low, rumbling growl sounded, and Dorian looked across the deck, to the prow. The witch was still there. Still tending to Abraxos’s wounds, as she had been all night.

P-PURE....WHOLESOME......Manon and Abraxos are truly a treasure in this dumpster fire of a novel....

Manon had not let anyone near him. Aelin had tried once, and when Manon snarled at her, Aelin had cursed enough to make everyone else halt, saying she’d rutting deserve it if the beast died. Manon had threatened to rip out her spine, Aelin had given her a vulgar gesture, and Lysandra had been forced to monitor the space between them for an hour, perched in the rigging of the mainmast in ghost leopard form, tail swaying in the breeze.

Manon: Hey so I have no reason to really trust any of you and you’ve made threats to me before, so don’t get near my only friend on this ship.

Alien: what a slutty bitch!! you deserve to have your only friend die!!! fuck you you bitch!!!!

Words cannot describe how much I hate Alien is there a scene where someone finally kicks her ass? Please I need it.

Dorito and Manon ““banter”“ for a while and I’m already falling asleep zzzz

[Manon] met [Dorian’s] gaze, as if willing him to see a century of all that she’d done. “I am not mortal. I do not play by your rules. I have killed and hunted men for sport. Do not mistake me for a human woman, princeling.” “I have no interest in human women,” he purred. “Too breakable.”

W.....what.....

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AM I READING

Is this a reference to Sorscha???? The healer who died rebelling against the evil king??

YOU CONSIDER THAT BREAKABLE. YOU CONSIDER HUMAN WOMEN WEAK AND BENEATH YOUR FEET NOW. SJM. YOU FUCKING, TYOU DHAHKFGDJFGS DHFAGJFD HDSFGJD

I AM SO FUCKING FURIOUS LIKE HOW, HOW IS THIS IN A YA SERIES. THIS IS GOING TO TELL YOUNG GIRLS THEY’RE WEAK FOR FALLING IN LOVE AND NOT HAVING SPECIAL POWERS LIKE MANON. WHAT THE EVER LIVING HOLY FUCK SHIT IS THIS.

FUCK YOU, SJM. FUCK. YOU.

“So you miscalculated,” Manon said. “So [the ilken] tracked you. Don’t get distracted with the minor defeats. This is war. Cities will be lost, people slaughtered. And if I were you, I would be more concerned about why they sent so few of the ilken.”

Manon is absolutely right, of course, but Alien shuts her down and everyone pats her on the ass for it. God I am fucking sick of the narrative bending over backwards to praise Alien for breathing.

Manon said a bit numbly, as if it was the first time she’d even spoken it to herself, “I am the last Crochan Queen—the last direct descendant of Rhiannon Crochan herself.”

Because literally nobody can not be royalty in this series. Average people from normal backgrounds rising up to do extraordinary deeds? Pfffft, nobody will read or like that. I am going to proceed to cling to my copies of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and cry now.

Two queens—there were two queens among them, Dorian realized.

And two princes - Rowboat and Assdion were described as princes for whatever the fuck reason - and a king, which is Dorito’s crusty ass. No wonder my favorite character, Gav, isn’t royalty, everyone who is is an asshole.

“Maybe [Maeve] told Erawan [that Aelin is alive],” Aedion said. Fenrys whipped his head to the general. “She’s never had any contact with Erawan, or Adarlan.” “As far as you know,” Aedion mused. “Unless she’s a talker in the bedroom.”

Great, so now we can add Assdion slut shaming Fenrys to the list of his sins. Oh, but since Fenrys is a guy, it’s played off as a joke because of course men can’t be slut shamed, tee hee! I fucking hate you, SJM.

Fenrys says something that makes Alien think of Baba Yellowlegs, a character in the carnival in Cr0wn of Midnight. Turns out she was a fortune teller who is now connected to this plot because SJM totally didn’t pull the Fae shit out her ass for H0F, nope!

Rowan knocked on the door of their private bathing room. [Aelin]’d locked it. Walked into their room, then into the bathing room, and locked him out. And now she was puking her guts up.

Indoor plumbing.....private bathrooms...... on a medieval ship..... they have functioning toilets......in the medieval century......

THIS GODDAMN WORLDBUILDING. So what goddamn time period is this in? Clearly its like medieval Britain, they have monarchies and castles, and use swords/arrows but then they have shit like toilets?? You have to pick a time period and stick to it, gdi, you can’t pick and choose!

Rowboat flips because she locked him out. Maybe she’s sick and wants to be left alone, fuck face??? Seriously he’s being so possessive and controlling this is not healthy!!!

Ten seconds. Ten more seconds seemed like a fair enough amount of time before [Rowan] crunched down on the handle and splintered the lock.

Holy fucking possessiveness. Batman! I fucking hate this asshole.

Rowan looked at the bucket [Aelin]’d half filled, then at her bloodless lips. At the sweat beaded on her brow.

Oh, so this means no toilets? Well, I suppose I’ll have to apologize a bit for my rant, but having private bathrooms is still dumb. later Rowboat sees that everyone has gone to shit on the nearby islands.

Eyllwe. Eyllwe was burning.

Greaaaaaaaat can’t wait to see how these people’s suffering is reduced to nothing but angst for Alien’s feefees......

[mutemwija]

Pridecember Day 2: Enemy

(I hope you don’t find this too boring and enjoy reading it^^)

“I got some snacks.” Seto called over his shoulder and Atem watched his every move as he made his way back to the couch.

It didn’t happen very often that they got to spend an afternoon together and he smiled brightly at Seto when he handed him a small bowl and a teacup. “What’s this?”

“The label said Tutankhamen-Tea.” Seto said and sat down next to him with a shrug. “I thought you might like it. And I wanted something fresh, so I bought some lettuce.”

Atem looked between the bowl and Seto, before chuckling softly. “Lettuce, huh?”

Seto squinted and took a sip of his own tea. “What’s so funny about lettuce?”

Still chuckling, Atem took the small bowl in his hands and leaned against Seto. He liked it pretty much, sitting with him on the couch and cuddling like that. It didn’t happen very often unfortunately but he savored every minute he got to spent with Seto in this way. “You really want to know?”

Draping an arm over Atem’s shoulders as casually as possible, Seto shrugged. “I asked, didn’t I?”

“Okay. But you have to promise to listen to the end.”

That got Seto’s attention and his resentment was palpable in his voice. “It’s one of your ancient fairytales, isn’t it?”

“It’s an essential Myth that told the story of Horus and Seth and their battle for the throne of Egypt. It defined that the Pharaoh’s oldest son was to be the next king.”

“Really? You set your nation’s foundation on a fairytale?” Seto shook his head. “Some great culture you were.”

“We were indeed.” Atem decided to ignore the obvious insult to his country and people, since he knew that telling Seto the story would be enough punishment for him. “Anyway…” He cleared his throat in a dramatic manner. “It came to pass in those days that…”

“Are you kidding me?”

Atem snickered at Seto’s unnerved tone of voice. “You asked. Now listen.” He didn’t need to look at him to know that Seto was rolling his eyes. This was already a good start. “It’s actually a quite fascinating story. Horus and Seth both wanted to be Pharaoh after Osiris, but they couldn’t decide of course… You know who they were, right?”

“...”

“They were gods, of course.” He patted Seto’s leg, but his hand was slapped away almost immediately, when Seto groaned and threw his head back. “Osiris is God of the afterlife, of life and death and resurrection. That’s why his skin is green, you know. Green is the color of plants and therefore a symbol for life. Horus, the falcon god, is Osiris’ son and god of the sky and – spoiler alert – kingship. And Seth, well… he is god of the desert, of chaos and war and evil. In short, he is a real bad guy. They might have been nephew and uncle, but they were each other’s biggest enemy.”

“Get to the damn point!”

“Yeah…” Atem cleared his throat softly. Sure we wanted to tease Seto, but he got carried away himself when he spoke of these old stories he once believed in. He wondered sometimes how he was able to forget all this and how he could now only look onto them or retell them like something he’d once read and not something he grew up to believe as truths. “Seth had killed Osiris because he wanted to be pharaoh himself, but Horus claimed the throne, too, since he was Osiris’ son. They both brought their right to the throne before the Gods, but they couldn’t decide. So Isis, Horus’ mother, used a ruse on Seth and he kinda… removed himself from the game.”

“A game metaphor? Really?”

Atem nodded in mock pride, still ignoring Seto’s exasperated tone. “But like I said, Seth was the god of evil and therefore wouldn’t give up so fast.”

“That has nothing to do with being evil but with being ambitious.” Seto tossed in and sipped at his tea.

Taking a deep breath, Atem continued. “Anyway, he suggested that they both transform themselves into hippos and submerge in the Nile for three months. The one who’d come up first, would lose.”

“He’s quite a gamer your god of evil.”

Atem suppressed a sigh and went on without paying attention to him. “But again, Isis intervened and shot a harpoon down the Nile, but she hit Horus instead of Seth. So she threw another one and hit the right target this time, but Horus was so angry with his mother that he came up and beheaded her.”

“Understandable.”

“Horus fled from the scene, but Seth followed him, gouged his eyes out and told the gods that Horus was dead. Bad for him, Horus had been found in the meantime and his aunt sprinkled his eyes with milk to give him his eyes back.”

“She gave him his eyes back with milk?” Seto laughed that maniacal laugh of his. “What kind of drugs did your people consume exactly?”

Atem shrugged. “Blue lotuses most of the time, but that’s another story. The thing is…”

“Blue lotuses?”

“You’re awfully interested today.”

“I’m just trying to figure out where the lettuce comes in.”

“Patience.”

“You’re talking with me, you know that, right?”

“You wanted me to get to the point, now let me get to the point!”

“You’re delaying the conclusion, not me.”

“Because you keep interrupting me.” Atem groaned heavily. He hadn’t realized when the tables had turned, but he needed to win the upper hand again. “The fight for the throne actually continued for over eighty years, until the gods stopped it and invited Seth and Horus to a large feast. Seth thought this to be his last chance and he wanted to prove that he dominated Horus. So he raped him…”

Seto choked on his tea a little, but didn’t say a word so Atem continued. “But Horus was able to catch Seth’s semen and threw it into the river. Horus knew it was his turn now so he mixed his semen with – here is your point – lettuce!” Atem made a triumphant gesture and Seto chuckled softly. “It was Seth’s favorite food and when he ate it and the other gods found Horus’ semen within him…”

“That was prove that Horus was stronger than Seth and they made him pharaoh.” Seto completed.

Atem nodded, poking at the lettuce in his bowl. “Excactly.”

“He cheated.”

“What?”

“Horus cheated. Seth should have won.”

“Didn’t you listen? Seth was the god of evil.”

“That shouldn’t be a reason for him not to claim the throne.”

Atem just groaned and put his bowl of lettuce back on the table, before he slumped into the couch again, exhausted. This was so typical for Seto. “Whatever.”

“But still…” Seto placed his teacup back on the table and turned to look at Atem again, leaning over him slightly. “You didn’t have to tell me all about your stupid fairytales.”

“You asked me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Seto smirked at him and Atem found himself attracted by the predatory gleam in his eyes. “If you want to suck my dick, you can just ask.”

And just like that Atem’s expression changed from that of a prey to that of a predator and he grabbed Seto’s face to pull him closer to him. “It’s funnier that way.”

“For you, yes.” Atem shuddered at the excitement he felt when Seto’s lips touched his with every word he spoke. “Don’t you dare throw my semen in the river.”

“No.” He smirked and bit Seto’s lower lip hard. „I’ll swallow it all.“

“So you admit that I’m dominating you?”

“I am the pharaoh.”

“You were the pharaoh.”

“Well...” Atem grinned and pushed Seto back into the couch climbing on his lap. “It doesn’t matter then, does it?”

“We’ll see about that.”

[yakumtsaki]

We don't like to do too much explaining, story stayed the same through the money and the fame, cause we... STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM NOW WE’RE HERE ♪

As loyal readers may or may not remember, my original plan was to faithfully follow legacy rules and slowly build a greek house for the kids, using w/e money we had in junior year. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions! Which doesn’t really apply here but i like saying it. I’m actually not sure I even get what it means. Point is the nll update came in the meantime and despite my lawful intentions I was too done to build a house, so we commandeered the sorority house, banished DJ and co in the sim bin, added a gorilla statue and our proud letters (U-U-U) and here we are! I gave the house an extensive 10 minute makeover, bringing our funds to an impressive:

NOICE. We’re gonna starve but at least we’ll do it next to our bowling alley. Joining us in this glorious endeavor are Brit Brit, Melody and Frances J, while Wyatt and Ti-Ning have pledged and are expected to move in shortly. I doubt the sim world has ever seen such a bunch of assholes under the same roof.

Our first night is off to an incredible start, as everyone is starving, no one knows how to cook, we’ve ordered both pizza and chinese food and are thus completely broke, and megabitch Brit Brit has been hitting poor Fran with a baseball for 3 hours:

-Ooops, I did it again >:)

Idk but I have a feeling me and Brit are gonna get along great!

Finally, it looks like Fran is concussed enough to make a move on Jojo, which marks the start of the 3-man race for his tiny, vicious heart. Place your bets and take some dramamine cause it’s gonna be a wild ride. 

Case in point, it’s a new day in a new kitchen and Jojo’s mind is occupied by thoughts of everyone’s fav french-arabian prince, Wyatt Monif. Since Wyatt is a pledge and there are term papers that need writing we invite him over..

..and things are heating up. You know, if heating up means Jojo continues to be a pain in the ass and still doesn’t have a crush on Wyatt even though they’ve made out a hundred times. Jojo WHAT IS YOUR DEAL

-It’s called being a stone-cold motherfucker, you should give it a try. Now Wyatt, just because we’re best friends and semi-lovers doesn’t mean you’re still not a lowly pleb pledge completely at my mercy, so don’t get any ideas.

-Of course not, I’d rather die than disappoint my dear Jojό!

-Well let’s see which happens first.

-Oh, don’t worry, Gunthèr, it is I who will win Jojό’s heart!

-Yeah, I’m the complete opposite of worried.. whatever that is.

-Calm?

-WHATEVER THAT IS

-..Are you sure college is the right trajectoire for you?

Finally. THE TIME IS NEIGH. Hope you’re all ready for Ti-Nings personality panel........................

.............................................LMAO. Perfect Jojo match!

RICH BITCH CONVENTION. Seriously these 3 have a combined of what? 7 nice points? Put them all together and you make one bearable person.

-Aw, Jojό, is that a hunting knife in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

-I’m happy to see you!

-Ok I lied it was a hunting knife.

-Oui, I can tell :(

Small dick jokes aside, Wyatt is now not only officially in love with Jojo but apparently ready to commit his life to this monstrosity. Which you know, Jojo is a Union and I’m under contractual obligation to love him but Wyatt, seriously. You’re still young, a lot of fish in the pond, normal, nice, non-serial-killing fish..

-LOCK.THE.WANT.

Fine, can’t beat young love I guess! I mean if Romeo and Juliette teaches us anything...

...it’s that only death can.

For whom the bell tolls..

Oh Max........... the pleasure will be all mine.

One last kiss for the road... The road which leads to me never seeing Max’s fug clone ass on Jojo’s panel again.

Oh you’re a crafty one aren’t you!! Trying to charm your way out before I lock you in!! Thankfully Jojo has your number.

-Absolutely not, Max, I already have 3 people pursuing me, this is just excessive! Now get in there and die!

-Ugh fine, but my heart’s not gonna be in it.

Meanwhile, disaster has struck our house in the form of that stupid fucking coach, resulting in me facing the sight of Gunther doing lunges in this indescribable outfit. I don’t know how long it will be before I can look at him with the same eyes again.

-I suffer now but Mel is gonna thank me later ;)

Remember when you were an innocent weird little kid and not a sex demon??? Those were the fucking days.

Back in the yard and while the world awaits Max’s demise with bated breath, Frances has resorted to pulling dirty tricks. For shame, what did Wyatt ever to do to you, he’s a sweetheart!

-Well I’m not. And that’s why I deserve Jojo, unlike that family-aspiration-6-nice-points flop.

Yea you definitely deserve each other, no arguments here.

OH MAN, Wyatt is not playing around, he’s in it to win it. 

-Your move, Frannie. 

-Name your price, you french harlot. 

-Forget about it, mon ami, can’t buy me love.. Though I’m sure you’ve tried with that mug.

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG FINALLY

-Ohoho suck it, Fran, I’m going napoleonic wars on your pasty british behind!

-Yes, that’s an apt metaphor considering the FRENCH LOST. Don’t get comfortable, pal, you won the battle but I’ll win the war.

-EXCUSE MOI, CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF JOJO FALLING IN LOVE WITH ME

I don’t mean to interrupt this thrilling conversation...

....BUT WILL MAX EVER EAT THE FUCKING CAKE

-Please bitch, the cake is a lie. 

God, fuck you, Portal, you overrated piece of shit.

Seriously guys, Wyatt is diabetes-inducing-sweet. He doesn’t even get mad when the cow does that pillow fight thing on him, instead he actually starts playing with him? What an angelic creature. I’m really starting to feel the urge to protect him from Jojo. If that plan goes as well as my plan to kill Max, WHO IS NOW BIRDWATCHING, you can count on them getting married by the end of this shitshow.

This rando ass prof comes to visit us and Ti-Ning has been mercilessly bullying him for the better part of the day. Ti-Ning, as much as I appreciate your relentless evilness, maybe you should focus your energy on something else, like perhaps going after Jojo aka THE REASON I MOVED YOU IN?

-Lol whatever, I have Jojo in the bag, he wants the one he cannot have...

Yea he also has 2 hotter guys than your bird ass after him, so time to step up! I mean look at this shit:

Wyatt has the relationship advantage, Fran the chemistry one, and you have shit even though you’re the biggest freak of the 3 and the closer one to Jo’s terrifying personality points! Take what is yours boo!

NOOOOO #REJECTED. Man that was some bad advice. Sorry Ti!

-UGH can’t believe I listened to you, ‘express my feelings’, what am I, 12?

Yea yea I’m sorry, let’s go back to your strategy of being a massive bitch.

The day is coming to an end. Jojo is eating pizza while his suitors work out..

 Gunther is back to doing ballet while Brit has picked up the mantle of torturing the prof..

AND MAX HAS YET TO DIE. JFC. At this rate he’s gonna die of hunger before he gets eaten which is not how I roll, I wanted something quick, painless and fun for his murder but WE CANT HAVE NICE THINGS CAN WE. Even in death you decide to be a fucking pain in the ass GOD. YOU ARE THE WORST. While I’m contemplating ways to solve my little Komei clone problem a little window pops up and my first thought is ‘someone died of hunger’ but then I look and what do I see....

A PLOT FUCKING TWIST, THAT’S WHAT. Our good Jojo here waited until Wyatt and Fran were conveniently both at class to go for it! And now the real race for the crown begins. In the game of thrones, you win or you die birdwatch next to a cowplant, apparently. JUST DIE ALREADY MAX. Be a pal.

[libralita]

Title: The Scrivener’s Bones

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Illustrations: Hayley Lazo

Summary: In this second Alcatraz adventure, Alcatraz finds himself on a mission to meet Grandpa Smedry when he gets swept up by a flying glass dragon filled with his unusual and mouthy Smedry cohorts.

Their mission? A dangerous, library-filled one, of course!

They are on their way to the ancient and mysterious Library of Alexandria (which some silly people think was long ago destroyed!) where they must find Grandpa Smedry, look for clues leading to Alcatraz's potentially undead dead father, and battle the creepy, dangerous soul-sucking curators who await them.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

This book we got new characters and go to the Library of Alexandria to try and find Grandpa Smedry and maybe someone else…It wasn’t as…batshit crazy as the first one. Perhaps because I’m used to the weirdness or Sanderson toned to down for…y’know plot. However, I still enjoyed it!

“Dangerous, but unseen. (Kind of like those troublemakers who read fantasy novels.)”—Page 16

Yeah…Hey wait a minute!

“There was a pause. A dreadful, terrible, long annoying, frustrating, deadly, nerve-racking, incredibly wordy pause.”—Page 27

We get it!

“It’s because of people like you that we authors have to clog our second books with all kinds of explanations. We have to, essentially, invent the wheel again—or at least renew our patent.”—Page 35

Recaps are annoying.

“That was intended to teach you something: that I’m completely trustworthy and would never dare lie to you. At least not more than, oh, half a dozen times per chapter.”—Page 35

Ah, I love you, Alcatraz.

Sing has a sister named Australia and she looked like Katara. She was an okay character, she reminded me of the girl we meet in the Reckoners book. Mizzy, I think. She didn’t really do much but her talent is hilarious.

“‘Of course I will,’ Draulin said. ‘As the oldest child of Attica Smedry, you are the heir to the pure Smedry line. You outrank both your cousin and your uncle, which means you are in command of this vessel.’”—Page 57

Why, Draulin? Why on earth would you say that to a stupid, thirteen-year-old? This is really your own fault. I don’t know how to feel about Draulin. While she was did some really freaking badass things…she was kind of just stereotypical military mom. Maybe she’ll get more development later.

“Don’t even get my started on the economic value of belly button lint.”—Page 65

Oh my god.

“‘She’s…standing on top of Dragonaut,’ I said as I watched through the glass. ‘Yes,’ Bastille said. ‘We appear to be going several hundred miles an hour.’ ‘About that.’ ‘She’s blocking laser beams fired by a jet airplane.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Using nothing but her sword.’”—Page 75

This was truly amazing and laws of physics be damned.

“‘What if you feel like you’re dead?’ Bastille asked, pulling herself free from her jacket. ‘Raise a finger, then,’ Kaz said, walking down the beach towards us. I won’t say which one she raised.”—Page 96

How rude.

“You have to remember, however, that this is not fiction, but a real-life account. I can’t help it if all of my friends were too selfish to do the narratively proper thing and get themselves killed off to hike up the tension of my memoirs. I’ve spoken to them at length about this. If it makes you feel better, Bastille dies by the end of this book. Oh, you didn’t want to hear that? I’m sorry. You’ll simply have to forget that I wrote it. There are several convenient ways to do that. I hear hitting yourself on the head with a blunt object can be very effective. You should try using one of Brandon Sanderson’s fantasy novels. They’re big enough, and goodness knows that’s really the only useful thing to do with them.”—Page 101

Oh, I’m sure Bastille will die in book two of a Middle Grade series. Alcatraz also has a bridge on the moon to sell you. Also the crack at Brandon’s own books is perfection.

“Adults are not idiots. Often, in books such as this one, the opposite impression is given. Adults in those stories will either (a) get captured, (b) disappear conspicuously when there is trouble, or (c) refuse to help. (I’m not sure what authors have against adults, but everyone seems to hate them to extent usually reserved for dogs and mothers. Why else make them out to be such idiots? ‘Ah look, the dark lord of evil has come to attack the castle! Annnnnd there’s my lunch break. Have fun saving the world on your own, kids!’)”—Page 106

THANK YOU! I hate this trope so much.

I feel like as a tall person, I should be offended by Kaz’s list.

“I am a fish. No, really. I am. I have fins, a tail, scales. I swim about, doing fishy things. This isn’t a metaphor or a joke, but a real and honest fact. I am a fish. More on this later.”—Page 119

I…okay.

So you can sacrifice an Oculator and anyone can use the Lenses. Sounds like Mistborn.

“So that’s why I’m writing my autobiography. I want to teach you to ignore the fish and pay attention to the shoes. Fish and shoes. Remember that.”—Page 137

Okay, then.

“P.S. If that crazy son of mine Kazan is there, smack him on the head for me.”—Page 145

I miss Grandpa Smedry. Speaking of Kaz, I think he was my favorite of the new characters. His powers were super cool and he delivered a message about being different which was nice.

“I shivered, realizing it probably wasn’t a good idea to sass the soul-sucking monsters with a burning skull for a head.”—Page 159

Probably not.

If the Library of Alexandria has future books then I’m totally selling my soul in order to read the entire Cosmere. It’d be totally worth it.

“People don’t read anymore. And when they do, they don’t read books like this one, but instead read books that depress them, because those books are seen as important.”—Page 172

Who would ever read a book that would depress them?

“Your father and I have very similar Talents—I can get lost and Attica can loose things—and both are flexible.”—Page 178

Fletcher lost her keys.

“‘From this day on,’ he whispered, raising the bazooka, ‘I shall be known as Hambo.’”—Page 186

Brandon. Corner. Now.

Ah, so that’s why Fletcher lost her keys. Wait so if two people with Talents got married would they get each other’s Talents, now having two Talents? Or would they just their own Talents?

“Given the chance, and I’d probably cut my wedding cake with one.”—Page 210

*Does a quick Google search* Brandon, did in fact cut his wedding cake with a sword. Also I found this amazing page. Seriously click it. Like holy shit he has a bunch of swords at his wedding. That’s beautiful.

“Or you could be a serial killer who specializes in reading books, then seeking out the authors and murdering them in horrible ways. (If you happen to fall into that last category, you should know that my name isn’t really Alcatraz Smedry, not is it Brandon Sanderson. My name is in fact Garth Nix, and you can find me in Australia. Oh, and I insulted your mother once. What’re you going to do about it, huh?)”—Page 214

What did Garth Nix ever to do to Brandon?

I love that Alcatraz is just stealing gold. It’s always the trope that you can’t ever take the riches but Alcatraz does it. I love how Brandon subverts tropes.

“Rocky Mountain oysters!”—Kaz, Page 256

Do you know what’s those are? They’re not oysters…

“You remember the secret ‘thing’ I claimed to have done in this book? The shameful, clever trick? Did you go looking for it? Well, whatever you found, that wasn’t what I was intending—because there is no trick. No hidden message. No clever twist I put into the first fourteen chapters.”—Page 258

I HATE YOU AND LOVE YOU SANDERSON!

“(Hey, kids? Want a taste of Dickens? It’s awesome, man. Come on. First chapters of Hard Times are free. I know you’ll be back for A Tale of Two Cities later.)”—Page 264

Why did you have to pick Dickens and Hard Times? I can’t tell if that was a dick joke or not.

I can’t believe it, Attica actually sold his soul for information…but wait, there’s still that writing on the wall. Go back to the writing on the wall.

“‘Oh, dear,’ Grandpa Smedry said, smiling. ‘We’ll never shut him up now. He’s gone and come back from the dead.’”—Page 322

My mouth literally dropped open. First because I couldn’t believe that it only took us two books to get Alcatraz’s dad back. Great subversion of the tropes. Also he pulled a Kelsier. Oh my God Attica and Kelsier need to meet. I WANT A CROSSOVER NOW.

Oh, man Bastille’s death scene was really a tear-jerk.

[archonreviews]

The Archon’s Review of Dominions 5: Warriors of the Faith

Dominions 5: Warriors of the Faith is a fantasy turn-based strategy game created by indie developers Illwinter Games. The world was once well-ordered and prosperous under the auspices of the supreme god, the Pantokrator. However, the Pantokrator has vanished from the world, and many divine or infernal beings have risen up to take the supreme god’s place. Now, as one of these Pretenders, you must guide your nation in their wars against all the other nations, and thus claim the Thrones of Ascension, thereby achieving godhood!

So, fair warning beforehand: this review is basically just me sucking this game’s dick for a few paragraphs on end. So if you don’t want to witness hardcore human-on-videogame fellatio, maybe don’t read this one. Sorry lads/lasses/non-binary basses.

So, Dom5 has the whole “God’s gone away” background story, but there’s no overarching campaign. Instead, it’s more like a game of Civilization; you play each game as its own instance, and when you win, you can boot up another one, assuming it’s not 4 am. Or assuming it is 4 am. Either way. This helps the player create their own narrative about their Pretender character, and while the Dominions roleplaying communities aren’t very robust, that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to create and really play as a god. Basically, because the scope is epic, you get invested, but because each game is insular, you can decide how your character and how their nation operate, in very much a freeform manner.

The thing that I like most about this game is that it may be one of the deepest games I’ve ever played. It’s got strategic depth aplenty, and despite the lack of a story campaign, there’s depth of lore as well.

In Dom5 the one thing that may stick out is how many options and how many choices the player has to make. First they’ve got to pick a technological era to play in, which may alter, remove, or add nations for the player to choose. Then, they’ve got to pick a nation to play as, of which there are asstons. Then, they’ve got to pick the terrestrial form of their Pretender, the choices for which are more-or-less unique to each nation, and they’ve got to define what sort of dominion that god holds and what magic they know and what blessings they can bestow on their sacred soldiers.

(This many unit choices for like, 25-30 playable factions for three different technological eras. And this isn’t even taking into account the magic choices. It’s a lot.)

This allows for plenty of strategic possibilities, and you have to take into account your chosen nation’s qualities, and your opponents’, so as to choose the best Pretender options and the best army compositions. You should also take into account your choice of magic spells as well as your opponents’, because global enchantments can be simply game-changing.

Speaking of magic, it may be one of the most fun magic systems in a strategy game. There are two types of spells: combat and ritual, and both feel awesome. Watching fireballs streak across the battlefield is always fun, especially if you’ve got a large cadre of wizards all flinging spells one after the other. Ritual spells, on the other hand, are another matter entirely. This is where having a high-level wizard, or a powerful god can come in handy. Ritual spells include the ability to summon entire armies, create a second sun, engulf the world in darkness, or, if you happen to be feeling particularly sadistic, you can even accelerate the aging of all living beings in the world so that they die faster. The magic in this game feels all powerful and utterly amazing.

Now, my all-time favorite aspect of this game is the depth of lore. Literally every nation has oodles of flavor text over all its generational iterations, and each unit and each spell has it’s own flavor text. One could spend literally hours reading the flavor text on each thing in the game. The flavor itself borrows heavily from real-world mythologies, all doused with a heavy helping of what the sages call “Rule of Cool”. Some of it gets pretty explicit, with many civilizations named directly after their real-world counterparts, such as Tír na nÓg, or Rus. Some are slightly more oblique, such as Mictlan, which is an analogue for the Aztec empire, and Ermor, which you can figure out if you remove the first R and flip the resultant word. There’s even an R’yleh civilization, which only gets more and more fucked up as it progresses through its iterations.

(See all that text in the topmost paragraph? Yeah, it’s not at all unusual for units to have that much flavor text, sometimes even more. This game’s got a lot of reading for those interested.)

One detail I dig is that there’s a sort of amorality coursing through the narrative, the mechanics, and even the cosmology of the game. You are expected to run an efficient, powerful, and overall grandiose war machine, as your goal is nothing short of godhood; nothing else matters. You need to sacrifice those virgins to power your spellcraft? Go right ahead, no-one’s judging you. You need to pillage those provinces for money? Hey, they’re your own citizens! You need to force the world’s population to age rapidly until they’re all nothing but dust? Awesome, fuck the haters!

You see, I once played a game called Total War: Empire. It takes place in the age of empires, when men were calculated as mere numbers. They were not flesh and blood people, but guns, horses, and cannons. That game did a great job getting me into that mindset, wherein each casualty was merely another bullet-shooter to be replaced in pursuit of my goal of the domination of Europe. Dom5, in comparison, takes this mindset to the extreme. When not engaged with the flavor and depth, I was churning out soldiers as if from an assembly line, before sending them into battle, and very likely, to their deaths; or at least, to their crippling. See, each time a soldier or creature is struck in combat, it has a chance of getting an affliction, some of which can be quite debilitating. Does this prevent me from including them in my armies? Of course not! Every body is useful. Dom5 posits that the goal of godhood comes before everything else; the thoughts and problems, and therefore, the morality of a god, are all so far removed from those of mere mortals that they cannot be judged for their atrocities, or even for their benevolence. Hell, you don’t even intervene directly in your subject’s lives; that’s determined by your dominion. Basically, Dom5 states that your goal is all that matters; you can be good to your subjects as far as the game allows, or evil to them in great measure, but no matter what, you must achieve your objective, or else all is lost.

(Do you see the ladies in white surrounding the two antler-guys in the back? Yeah, they’re probably going get sacrificed for magical powers. And it’s likely that I will feel nothing for it.)

So, after a great segue, let’s talk about the problems this game, does admittedly have (if we’re still using the fellatio metaphor, this is me admonishing the game for shooting off in my hair while absentmindedly stroking the game’s dick gently. This blog may not be for children). For one, the game’s learning curve is total crap. The tutorial is in the “tools” menu for some reason, and even after finishing it, unless you’re a series veteran, you may struggle to pick up all the concepts. And this is quite a heavy game. It’s improved considerably since Dom4, but even still, new players may be turned off by the terrible learning curve.

(The game’s UI, plus a lovely shot of a game’s map. While cluttered, the UI can be intimidating to explore for people used to Civilization or Total War.)

In addition, the graphics leave a lot to be desired. We’re talking in bits here, not polygons, and not very many of them, at that. Each sprite has only two states, “static”, and “action”. Of course, all this is to compensate for the literal hundreds of soldiers and dozens of particle effects that can appear on screen at once, and the tonnes of different entities on the overworld map and the AIs controlling them. This game’s got a lot going on.

Speaking of combat, it claims to be real-time (while the administration and map movement is turn-based), but as someone who played Dom4, which was turn-based, I don’t see much of a difference between the two. This is because the combat system is actually pretty interesting. Instead of controlling your soldiers directly, you assign them pre-programmed orders, which they execute to the best of their abilities upon meeting the enemy. This requires you to think of a strategy beforehand to suit your nation’s strengths and weaknesses and those of your opponents. After you engage in combat, you can watch the replay, which is where you can actually see what happened in real-time. It’s actually really rad to see your hordes of warriors carving a swath through your opponent, and your mages slinging spells overhead. It’s like watching Lord of the Rings, except pixellated and probably with giants and sea monsters instead of dudes and orcs.

(A scene of my Fomorian giants surrounding and obliterating a horde of summoned creatures. This will only be one battle in an uncountable series.)

One last thing before the ending wrap-up: I suppose I should make it known that I am quite self-aware, and I know that sacrificing virgins to power blood magicks, and enslaving people to fight in your wars are all horrible things in real life. In a big way, one of the things I like about this game might be one of its biggest turn-off to some people. So I suppose if you’re sensitive to the concepts of violence toward women, enslavement, and, but limited to, cannibalism, maybe don’t pick this one up. I’m not actually joking about cannibalism, that happens.

I like this game. A lot. So much that I’m actually having trouble describing why I like it. Like, I’ve described elements about it that I like, but writing this out, I realize I haven’t gushed nearly as much as I wanted to or thought I would. Maybe I’m more a melancholic person that I thought? In any event, I guess I should apologize to the game; it’s going to bed with a mild case of blue-balls. In all seriousness, I totally recommend this game to anyone, especially people who like ancient mythology and turn-based strategy. I will probably play the fuck out of this for a long time to come, assuming they don’t release Dominions 6 any time soon.

(Actaeon, Lord of the Wilds, and the Most Ironically Named. He was always one of my favorite gods to play as.)

[ambrose-watches-blog]

Justice League

I know it's an oldie but I have a fondness for DC since wonder woman (and a fondness for Gal Gadot's and Jason Momoa's faces tbh), and I actually have not watched it yet, so I borrowed it from the library.

So far Superman kinda look like a dick

oh wait i shouldn't say bad things of the dead

wtf is that thing Batman is fighting (also does he have to do the manly throaty voice? it kinda sucks)

looking forward to see what Amy Adams and Jeremy Irons are doing in this movie. it looks like there's not a single unknown name there.

the music is good so far too

no wait amy adams can't be Lois, Lois has to have dark hair... and amy adams has to be Gal Gadot's gf

the image of the neo nazis kinda rising and being more open about attacking ppl after superman's death kinda drives home the metaphor of S as a jewish icon

Wonder Woman standing on Justice is also another fucking Icon

freaking Arthur, hiding among the fishermen and pretending he's just a dude who speaks english. with that face. and those eyes.

"let me get this straight, you do really dress like a bat? like uh, like an actual bat?" I love Arthur so much

the fan service of Jason Momoa's ass...

Alfred is a fucking delight

Themisciraaaaaa

THEMISCIRAAAAAA :(

did they just... get crushed... by those gates... without a second thought from anyone else?

Diana is fucking gorgeous

and why did they put so much makeup on Amy Adams

the story behind the Mother Boxes is super interesting and also I like that they actually filmed it, not like the backstory fights in WW

"we tend to act like the doomsday clock has a snooze button" wow. accurate.

"viola, web design, fluent in sign language, gorilla sign language" bless Barry! "competitive ice dancing"

WHAT IS BRUNCH

snackhole

"what are your superpowers again?" "I'm rich"

this movie is full of gems

The wonder woman I know would not be wearing heels

I don't think the Arthur of Aquaman would've spoken of his mom that way. also I'm not gonna go back to relisten but they're still talking like she's dead.

who is the lady who looks like Amber Heard anyways. and why did the evil manage to get the box so fuckin easily

what is that thing in the middle of the Central? are they at like, tchernobyl or something?

awww Barry <3 " for transparency I've never done battle"

dude. this woman is a semi-goddess. she's killed a god before. you're overreaching.

"the old gods died." did they now? Ares sure did! let's see how it goes for you

Arthur has perfect timing

"did he just bail"

"just like a bat! I dig it!" did i mention I love Arthur

Bruce, you lil baby. Diana can kick your ass a hundred ways to sunday. don't mention steve like that

and Barry going "you know that if she kills you we'll cover for her" is just amazing

"I was running the numbers while you were being an asshole" i love cyborg too. I especially love everyone teaming up to let bruce know he's being a dick

also how did cyborg's father manage to save him with like. just his head. i thought there was more of his body left than that...

yessss talk to him with the lasso...

or not...

cannot believe superman is stronger than all the others together. Arthur and Diana should be able to kick his ass

I KNEW the big guns would be Lois!!

Arthurs armour looks way more natural in this one than in aquaman

Diana looks really nice with the sash on her shoulders

I'm really not a fan of the idea that Diana was hiding for a century until she was forced out. every comic I've read that went beyond her first few months on earth, everybody knows Diana Prince. and they know she's WW. she's a freaking embassador. I do not like this Dark Diana

the Three-is-One thing is very... catholic...

I'm not sure who ever wrote this movie understands the mechanical limitations of engines. cyborg's not supposed to be able to push them beyond what they were made for... this is not just a tech thing

love Arthur getting tangled into the lasso. love love love! and diana knowing and just biting her lips and enjoying it

how did he know that would collapse the whole barrier

Diana is leadiiiing <3

not sure what's happening with the roots but I'm glad that family got out (so far)

"we woulda left you but she did not ask for a vote" yesss this is how you manage your team

and Batman who had an ejectable seat the whole time

"bug duty" by Barry looks super efficient

idc what superman did, Barry saved that lil girl!!

"i don't even understand the physics of how my toes hurt"

"I work with children!"

welp i don't pity the guy but that was a gross way to die for a superhero movie. also found it a bit anticlimactic

it's actually super nice outside!

wonder which of his new friends got barry the job!

... what happened to the boxes anyways. did they get destroyed or?

final verdict: a good two hours of fun with a meh last 5 minutes that did not really give me the warm wanna cry feelings I got from WW and Aquaman, but still a whole lot of fun.

(also why are they being like Marvel and putting end credit scenes...)

[press-a-repeatedly]

Final Fantasy XV: A Royal Pain in the Butt

by Zul Edwards

Final Fantasy. For years this beloved series was the standard bearer for what an RPG should be. The absolute titans of creative storylines, stellar graphics, innovative battle systems and fun side quests that have been, and still are, emulated to this day. Some of my absolute favorite games of all time are in this series; FF9, FF6, FF4, and FF10, just to name a few. However, I think it’s safe to say that reputation has changed over time for the worse. For the past several years Final Fantasy has shifted in my eyes. Once a series that used to fill me with joy when I heard those two glorious F’s next to each other, to an eye rolling, groan-inducing disappointment that just makes me want to scream out one giant F instead.

I know you can hear the theme playing in your head.

Two years ago in November 2016, Square-Enix’s latest installment in the Final Fantasy series, Final Fantasy 15 was released. Now this game had one of the craziest and longest development cycles in recent gaming history. I won’t get into it fully here but trust me when I say, it sucked. Over ten years from the initial reveal of what was once called Final Fantasy Versus 13, to what ultimately came out as Final Fantasy 15. It went through so many changes and took so much time I think I always knew in the back of my mind that there was a very slim chance it could actually live up to the years of anticipation and hype surrounding it. And I hate to say, I was right. Final Fantasy 15, despite, having years of development, backed by one of the most successful companies in gaming with a pedigree of games that would make other studios blush, was an absolute letdown when it first landed in my lap.

FF15 started out promising enough, the opening scene and first few hours were rather enjoyable. Getting to know the characters, playing a seemingly simple story (for a Final Fantasy) of main character, Prince Noctis, going on a road trip with his friends and bodyguards to get married was a novel concept and initially got me engaged (heh) in the game. The combat was simple and flashy, yet satisfying, the graphics are amazing, from character models to the environment they’re all top notch, and getting to hear classic FF songs as you drive around your royal cruiser, taking in the breathless countryside was truly delightful. However, the initial hours could only do so much and the chinks in the armor grew and spread until the metaphorical wheels came off the Regalia and slammed into the side of a mountain. As you progressed, the flashy battles became repetitive button mashing affairs, often made worse by the unruly camera, the open world gameplay became more and more linear, the story became less and less interesting, and the focus shifted from a sweet bromance between sweet bros to hours of the main character trudging through hallway after empty hallway in a giant boring factory, by himself, ultimately ending with a rushed and seemingly incomplete final area. It was baffling how this game took so long to come out and yet, it still felt unfinished and unpolished.

Stand by me.

Final Fantasy 15 became what I believe is the gravest sin in gaming; a chore. I was no longer excited after coming home from work and seeing what Noctis and the boys were up to, and what delicious 3D meals I could feast my eyes on, I was instead dreading the obligation I had gotten myself into. I felt I only had to beat the game for beating the game’s sake and not for my own enjoyment. And beat it I did. Unsurprisingly, I ultimately I felt nothing from the ending except the relief it was finally over and that I could finally go back to playing The Witcher 3 for the 100th time.

However, I was assured by people on the internet that if I only watched the movie that came alongside the release, or the anime mini-series, or the three DLC missions with your side characters, or the novel or the manga or the interactive wedding dress simulator or any other supplementary content that existed outside of the base game, I would enjoy it more. Ehhh no. Now call me crazy, but I don’t think playing games should require you to have additional homework assignments alongside them to understand who crucial characters are or even what important plot details are to have a “complete” version of the game. I think if said content wasn’t in the game, then it’s unrealistic for the developers to assume you would go out and consume all this extra stuff just to understand the basic storyline. For me, it’s safe to say out of the tin, in its original form, Final Fantasy 15 was truly an incomplete experience, and dare I say, a bummer.

So why am I writing this? I didn’t enjoy the game, it’s been two years and that’s the end of it right? Well recently, after ignoring any and all news from the game, I’ve been seeing that Final Fantasy 15 has been redeemed. That the once poor excuse for a game has been re-released and risen to his kingly status in an exceptional way. That the pauper had finally become a prince. Final Fantasy 15: Royal Edition for consoles and Final Fantasy 15: Windows Edition for PCs had come out and all was right with the universe. New features, new cutscenes, new story missions, fleshed out ending areas, trimmed down linear segments, better driving mechanics and much, much more, all fixed and ready for you to purchase for $15 if you own the base game already, or $50 fresh and sealed in plastic.

The King is dead. Long live the king.

Now, I’m a simple man. I like my beer cold, my music loud, and my vidya games to be released with all their crucial story content and critical character information in their original release. I don’t, however, like when I have to pay $60 for what is essentially a BETA version of a game, and only after a studio hears all the feedback of how the game was confusing and sub-par, change it, then re-release it to us again for a small fee. Oh, thank you, Square-Enix, how kind of you to make us pay again for a final version of your originally flawed, incomplete game. “But, Zul”, I hear you clacking at your keyboards, “Square is only trying to do the right thing! They’re going back and fixing their mistakes! They could have just left the game as it is and not done anything to make it better!” Ok. Sure. That is true. This story could have ended in November 2016 with the game being released, it sucking, and then them moving on and assuring us the next Final Fantasy would be bigger and better and coming soon in the year 2055. I, however, don’t believe this a valid argument.

It’s true that gaming has changed over the years, from popping in a cartridge and playing immediately, to popping in a Blu-Ray disc and waiting hours to download bloated patches on day one. Games can be fixed, upgraded and changed as soon as you purchase them now. Studios do this all the time, hell, even The Witcher 3 looks and feels completely different from its debut with updated menu interfaces, graphical upgrades and combat tweaks. The difference being, most studios won’t make you pay for these changes and tweaks. Most studios ADD onto their original games with new side quests, extra harmless cosmetics and/or un-crucial story missions. Most studios, won’t charge you extra to play a game you already own, for it’s “complete” edition. Now I understand development for a game costs money and time and that developers and artists should be reimbursed for their dedication to their craft and that gaming is a tough and tricky business. However, I personally don’t believe it's fair for developers to release something that they (probably) know is flawed and unfinished only to give us the enviable privilege to finally play what they originally intended for a “low, low fee” at a later date.

Now, this probably isn’t the first instance of this happening. I’m not a gaming historian and I don’t do research. I’m just a guy who likes video games. This might not even be the most egregious instance of something like this happening, however as a life-long supporter and defender of Final Fantasy and Square(Enix) this just felt like a total dick move. Final Fantasy and the company I had grown to love over the years just aren’t the same thing anymore. What happened to the Square that released FF 7, 8 and 9, all stellar games with amazing characters, stories, locations and music, seemingly back to back all within a three-year window? Instead, we get release dates for when a teaser trailer is going to drop five seconds of footage on us for a game that promises to come out sometime before the eventual heat death of the universe. Final Fantasy went from gripping tales of love and heroism, sweeping epic stories and some of the most bombastic or heartfelt music to ever grace my eyes and ears, into just… meh. Final Fantasy 13 and all its terrible spin-offs, Final Fantasy 15, and now the vaporware that is the Final Fantasy 7 Remake, are just ugly reminders of how far the mighty Square have fallen from their original top of the industry. It’s ironic, and almost poetic Final Fantasy tier writing, how Noctis’s ultimate ascent to the throne, simultaneously deposed Square Enix as the kings of RPGs for me.

Images via thefinalfantasy.com and dailydot.com

[tessatechaitea]

Supergirl #7

I hate to complain about a comic book before I've even opened it but who am I kidding? Of course I love to!

I hate to steal the homosexual slang terms because people might think I like to suck dick (don't read that sentence, Tom King's dick. You're different) but is this Supergirl throwing shade at Dr. V?

Dr. V does not stand for Doctor Vagina like you totally thought. It's Dr. Veritas, remember?! Does anybody else have a problem with the DEO standing for Department of Extra-normal Operations? Wouldn't extra-normal mean even more normal than usual which would mean totally more boring and not more exciting like DC seems to think? If I described Thanksgiving as "extra-normal," people would think, "I guess nobody sucked any turkey dick this year." That's the exact opposite of what it would mean in DC's definition of "extra-normal." I really seem to have dick sucking on my mind this commentary! Maybe it's because I'm just trying to raise awareness that there are dicks out there that need to be sucked. Go get 'em, dick suckers! I guess Dr. Veritas doesn't live in her Time Cube in the center of the Earth anymore. She probably got priced out by Hipster Moloids trying to gentrify the DC underworld. Now the Omniologist works for the DEO in their monster containment lab. Need a monster contained? Dr. Veritas is your supremely intelligent person to do it! She might even be smarter than Lex Luthor. He's not a doctor of everything!

Boom! Truth bomb dropped by Dr. V! She really does know everything!

That's a pretty controversial statement, Dr. V. According to The Bible, God made two lights in the sky. Not one light and one thing that reflects the light of the first light. Blasphemer. Also, how does Dr. V explain Eclipso being just fine under the light of the moon, hunh?! Dr. V's next question (after that panel) is "If moonlight affected Lar-on, why not the light reflected off our own planet?" Yeah! Why isn't he...um...affected by the light that hits him after it already hit him but after it hit Earth after hitting him?! Explain that, lycanthropes! My theory is that light picks up moondust when it bounces off the moon and it's that moondust that turns people into werewolves. Shouldn't the word be "wearwolves" since it's like they're wearing a wolf? But on the non-full moon days, they would be wherewolves because where are the wolves?! I just wrote a better werewolf story than Twilight. Or whatever sequel of Twilight introduced the wolves. Breaking Moon? Dr. V has some theory's about werewolves too!

The full moon just makes him angry! "Get out of here, bright light! It's night! It's supposed to be dark! Eeeeeew! I'm so mad! RAWR!"

To cure Lar-on of his Moon Anger (which is the preferred new terminology for his condition), Supergirl must venture into his mind! Why is this a technology that only exists in comic books and usually terrible movies? Why can't I enter the mind of somebody else already so that I can figure out their problems in a metaphorical world created by their personality and ideology? Probably...I started this sentence before wandering off to watch the new It trailer and now I can't remember what I was going to write. Also I need to change my underwear. Be right back! Supergirl enters Lar-on's mind where he's currently processing Daddy Issues.

No one plans for Lar-on's mother's death? That seems...reasonable?

I've got it! The man in the moon looks like Lar-on's dad which is why he gets so angry he transforms into a wolf! Boom! I'm smarter than Dr. V! Supergirl finds some other clues as well. She notices Red Kryptonite seems to be behind Lar-on becoming a werewolf. Oh yeah! That's so much the most obvious excuse that I totally forgot about it. Who uses Red Kryptonite in modern comic books? Basically it's only real use was to turn Superman into a stereotype! Or a cabbage. And nobody approves of either of those things anymore, except maybe the awful, terrible monsters who eat fish tacos.

You know what would help make things go as planned? By first making a plan, dum-dum!

After battling the werewolves of Lar-on's hopes and dreams, Supergirl follows mini-werewolf Lar-on into his father's Greenhouse Observatory. I know his greenhouse is red but you wouldn't know what I meant if I had called it a redhouse, would you? You would have been all, "Wait. His observatory is a barn?" Lar-on had dreams of exploring the moons of Krypton even though nobody on Krypton could leave Krypton because its gravity was so strong. Unless that isn't a thing in Rebirth? I don't remember. Maybe people have always been able to leave Krypton and I'm remembering one imaginary tale I read when I was twelve. Anyway, Lar-on's dad is all, "You suck, Lar-on. You're not smart enough to do anything. Although based on these super duper Daddy Issues I'm heaping on you, you'll someday be a DC Superhero! So take heart in that, you moronic twat."

Stop it, Supergirl! By curing his Daddy Issues, you're relegating him to an extra-normal life! OH! I finally get the DEO's name!

Lar-on's dream was to travel to Krypton's moons but his father was all, "That's a stupid dream." So I was as close I as I could come to the truth with the limited knowledge I had after reading three pages of this comic book! But then again, you could guess the answer to every mystery in a DC book was "Daddy Issues" and you'd be right one hundred and ten percent of the time. I never said I was good at math. I think I even once said I was terrible at math! Also, I might have said I was actually good at math. Which is truth? Dr. V might know! Supergirl flies Lar-on to the moons of Krypton in his mind. That should cure him of his Daddyissuesthropy! Now he can become Kara's faithful sidekick, Superwolfboy. The issue ends with Superman paying a visit to Supergirl. Join us next time when Superman tells Supergirl how she's doing the job all wrong! The Ranking! +1! It earns that change in rank just for not being a Cyborg Superman story!