#instead one of the only cons in a sea of pros is just that

[rinzler-smoocher]

Ok but like. What if I'm a little obsessed imagining Rinz initiating the first kiss with Flint & NOT the other way around.

With Rinz carefully covering his hand over Flint's eyes, so he can remove his own helmet without fear of judgment, & with Flint trusting Rinz's intentions are good, not shying away as the program's sickle claws trace lightly over his cheek.

Claws Flint's personally seen maim & mangle, now shockingly nimble for such dangerous impliments...

Flint isn't sure where this is going, but his heartbeat surely spikes as Rinz takes another step toward him, his other hand gently - so gently, it's like it's not even there - hovering at Flint's back, only ever so slightly grasping onto Flint's cape as he forces himself forward to close the distance between user & program.

Flint nearly yelps out at the unexpected movement - having anticipated /something/ was coming, but not a KISS over anything else - but it comes out more like a /moan/, surprising himself even more by just how much he didn't even realize he NEEDED this from Rinz alone.

Claws & hands grasping tightly at one another, a stray jolt of electricity between the two sends Rinz's hand covering Flint's closed eyes curling, cutting a small knick over the swell of Flint's reddened cheek.

It takes just a glance at his user to notice the red liquid gathering along the thin line his claw created that forces Rinz to animalistically act on his impulse, his hunger, his desire, without another thought.

Mind completely empty, just repeating the command of /more more MORE/, Rinz breathlessly pulls away from Flint before immediately delves closer to the user and carefully runs his tongue over the fresh red blood bubbling to the surface of the small incision. In Rinz's desperate hunger for affection, he accidentally lets off a small spark as he repeats the motion, swiping his tongue over Flint's flesh, at once sending chills up & down the user's body & his dyed hair standing sharply on edge.

& all Flint can do is let out a soft "wow" as Rinz's surprisingly gentle lips find his way back to the user's, & willingly allowing himself to be drawn into the monster's hold. All while that electronic purring from deep inside Rinz's core rumbles through both of them, their entire existences shifting in that moment, changing their code & very reason for being. Moving together from survival mode to something so much more...

[wailing-bunny]

Appetizer

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Dark Content Warning!

Contains: Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, x fem Reader

Warnings: yandere, forced marriage, dub-con, vague NSFW, abuse

WARNING! Some tags are not added for surprise factor, please read accordingly!

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“Qǐng màn yòng, my lady.”

The sweet smell of peppers dancing in an appetizing sea of delicious vegetables, the aroma that makes you salivate and sigh in desire, the boiling hot pot that is steaming, making your cheeks red from the heat.

A series of fine meat, still steaming soups, carefully chopped and mixed vegetables, deliciously spiced rice, and many drinks, to accompany the unimaginable feast in front of you.

One of the only pros you saw in this forced marriage, a very skilled healer was chosen to take care of you.

A healer he calls himself, but medicine cannot be made without food, and remedies cannot be found without some spice, he says.

You do not complain, why would you? All these delicious meals lined in front of you, they were something different every day. So many options, but he never repeated his meals.

Every day, a different medicine.

Every day, a different sensation.

The sly fox simply chuckled with a hand on his mouth, as he watched you devour the food like a starved animal.

A starved animal, you were. Considering your husband’s choice of keeping you locked in his room when he had things to attend to.

And being a general, he had a lot of duties to attend to, naturally.

So you could only have a proper meal only once in five days, or maybe three, if you’re lucky enough.

Of course he didn’t keep you unfed outside of those days you were pampered with many dishes. There would be a loaf of bread and a bowl filled with milk on your nightstand every week. You just have to spend it carefully.

It will teach you strategy, and patience, he said. And maybe it will teach you enough to win your freedom one day too.

But for now, the only thing that mattered was the feast in front of you. There was so much, you had already felt full, but you knew you would be starving these next days, so you continued to eat regardless.

The general had always said he liked you more chubby, anyway. A sweet thing for him to say.

You just wished he would be sweet enough to let you save some of the meals for later, though. But unfortunately, once Jiaoqiu was gone, they were too.

And being the good wife you are, you were expected to return to your shared bedroom after you were done receiving a physical examination.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this suddenly, though. Immediately jumping into the general’s arms, and looking at him so prettily, with a blush tinting your cheeks.

You didn’t know why you clung to him so tightly, begging him to touch you.

You didn’t know why you were suddenly on top of him, riding him as he stared at you with a lazy smile, appreciating your pitiful, small efforts.

And you didn’t know, why, no matter what you did, no matter how much you chased for that pleasure, the fog in your head wouldn’t clear, and the tight knot inside your stomach wouldn’t come undone.

You begged and begged the general, to help you, to do something. You told him this wasn’t normal, and you needed to be checked for a disease of sorts. And when he didn’t take you seriously, you begged him to bring you to that pleasure instead.

Which he simply replied with a,

“Ah ah ah, you must work for what you want, young lady. I taught you manners, didn’t I? “

So you did. You worked for it hard, and even when you exhausted yourself to the brink of passing out, the feeling didn’t subside.

You laid at the bed, whimpering like a kicked puppy from the feeling as you felt the general get up from the bed. A hum accompanied by a chuckle.

“A check up, you requested, correct?”

You raised your head in confusion, the door to your bedroom was opened.

You heard another chuckle, from a familiar voice, but not your husband’s.

“Ah, and here I was worried that I wouldn’t get my payment… Fortunately, the general of the Luofu is true to his words.”

Horror, and confusion, as you felt your body slowly succumbing to the prior exhaustion.

But a hand on your chin, and a finger being inserted inside your mouth, before you feel yourself swallowing something.

You hear a tut.

“Not so fast, dear. I haven’t gotten the chance to play with you yet, after all…”

And you feel yourself become lucid like you’ve never been before.

[ashen-char]

so unfair

ship: amber freeman (scream) x fem reader

warnings: mentions of sex and underage (at least in america, where it's 21) drinking/clubbing

summary: drunk you thinks the way amber takes care of you is unfair if she doesn't let you do the same.

word count: 1500+

notes: amber taking care of drunk fem reader, as requested here <3

Hazy. The club is a blur of neon lights and pounding bass - the smoke machine misting everything and messing up your field of vision. You can barely see in front of you. All that matters is Amber anyways. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, her perfume, and that sweet smoky haze that makes everything feel like a dream.

Each beat vibrates through the floor and into your bones. Bodies are everywhere, a sea of movement, pulsing and swaying like a single, living entity. Every sensation feels fuzzy. Everything except Amber and the way she moves with you. The way she feels as your hands slide along her body.

You've been downing shots without a second thought all night. Amber had warned you to slow down - this wasn't her house, where you two could get sloshed without any consequence except her parents scolding you about getting into the liquor cabinet again. But you were having too much fun. The liquid fire burning down your throat was sweet, and thinking of consequences seemed absurd when you were with her. With Amber, things just went right. Felt right.

Some stranger bumps against you, messing up your rhythm as you were swaying with her. No biggie, and you can barely hear their slew of apologies. A giggle pours out of you. "No, no, it's alright," you tell them.

You can barely get the words out before you hear "get your hands off my girlfriend" from behind you. Amber's arm goes around your waist and you're sure she's giving this poor club goer a death glare. She's good at that.

"Don't be like that, Ams, it's not like they shoved me," you defend.

Your cheeks are flushed, you can tell because everything feels hotter, and it's probably half the drink and half embarrassment as the stranger walks off terrified of your girlfriend. She doesn't have to do this every time. You can take care of yourself. So you tell her as much. Or try, at least, your words are all jumbled in your drunken exasperation.

Amber rolls her eyes. "Uh huh." Hands going on your hips, you feel yourself being ushered away from the crowd. And look, you don't hate having a pretty girl's hands all over you but you'd be okay if she was a little less protective. Just a bit.

"People dance. They get bumped into. It's fine. I'm fine!" To prove your point, you pull your hand back from how she's dragging you. You can walk for yourself, thank you very much, and can follow her just fine. "See, no broken bones."

The stairs down to the club's bathroom is a little tricky, so you cling to the railing, glaring when Amber wraps her arm around you instead. It's when she presses a kiss to your hair that you melt into her hold. 

When Amber closes the bathroom door behind the two of you, the music is muffled. That fuzzy feeling remains, but it's quieter too. You see her grabbing wads of the toilet paper, cussing out the club for only having 'shitty one ply'. When Amber comes back over and tells you to get up onto the sink, you gasp.

"Here?" you ask, looking over to the door. Biting your lip, you weigh up the pros and cons of a bathroom quickie. "Someone could walk in..."

But oh well. You're up for some fun, especially when it involves your Amber. Leaning forward, you dig your thumbs into Amber's waistband, ready to tug it down and have at her. Mm. The taste of her on your tongue sounds even more delicious than the shots you downed, and you hope it'll go down as smoothly.

"God, you're a mess, babygirl." Amber sounds both exasperated and affectionate, both of which make you pout. Especially when she's grabbing your hands and taking them away from your attempts to unclothe her. "Not that I'm not flattered by the offer, but that can wait until later. Probably when you're more sober." Your pout deepens. It makes Amber laugh, and she kisses it away. "I'm just gonna clean you up. So get on there, now."

"Well, that's less fun," you whisper to yourself.

Palms on the sink countertop, you hike yourself up until you can sit comfortably. Curious eyes watch as Amber methodically wets a wad of tissues, dabbing it against your side, then does the same with a dry tissue. You didn't even realise that a drink had splashed on you when you bumped into someone. Whoops.

"Hanging with me isn't fun?" Amber asks. If you were sober, you could glean her sarcastic tone a mile away. But your mind's looser right now. Thinking less and saying more.

"I'm having a great time," you correct. "You know that. I have the most fun when I'm with you. Because of you."

"Uh huh."

She's cute when she's serious. Hell, she's cute all the time. Amber's got these pretty brown eyes that go all big and sweet only when she's looking at you. You, or some particularly gorey scene in whatever horror flick she's watching, but it's sweeter when it's you. Your drunk brain tells you that you should tell her.

"You're adorable."

"Yuck." Amber's nose scrunches up in distaste, because that's certainly not a word she'd like to associate with herself, but she's focusing on cleaning you up. She throws the tissues to the nearby bin before starting the process over again. "You sure you're not talking about yourself, cutie?"

Those eyes fix on yours. You think you could melt into a pile of goo when you're looking into them. That familiar fuzz from before intensifies, concentrating in your chest rather than your brain. Loving Amber can feel like radio static, like you have no words to say except for her name over and over. Your similes aren't even making any sense.

"Positive," you say, popping the 'p'. You grin when that makes her smile.

You wish sometimes that she could take the compliment as well as she dishes them out to you. You wish she'd see herself the way you do. Not as some tough protector whose only merit is to save you, but as Amber. Pure and simple. You wish she knew how cute and sweet she is in the simple moments, that she doesn't have to try so hard to keep your eyes on her. Maybe when you were sober enough to string those words and complicated feelings together.

When she's all done with wiping you off, and satisfied that your clothes won't stain or stink of alcohol, Amber helps you off of the counter. You let her pull you flush against her front, a sigh escaping your lips at the feel of her body holding yours. She smells good. And her chest is soft against yours. With the amount of shots coursing through your body, it's tempting to rest against her. Amber is your favourite pillow, be that in the afterglow after a satisfying hook up or in the peace of her cuddles.

"I wasn't pulling you into a hug, baby," she says, "I was trying to get you to the hand dryer."

"Oh." Amber's too comfortable for her own good. You squeeze her tight before letting go, just cause you can. "Yeah, I knew that."

Standing under the heat of the hand dryer, your girlfriend supporting your weight, you wonder what this night would've been like without her. You wouldn't have been as comfortable on the dance floor, you wouldn't have let yourself drink this much. You get playfully annoyed at her for it, but Amber's protectiveness is why you let yourself get so sloppy. Amber is the reason you can let go. You trust her.

You wonder if she trusts you too. She should. You'd do anything for her.

"I get to think you're cute if you think I'm cute." And-" a hiccup, "I get to take care of you if you take care of me."

Amber laughs. She thinks this is some random drunken thought. "What are you-"

"No, shhhh." Your finger comes up and presses against those full lips that you adore kissing. "Let me love you. Let me say this."

Amber sighs. "Alright, baby. Whatever you want." Her hand goes to your hip, thumb going to rub slow circles as she waits for your words.

You want to tell her that she doesn't have to tell strangers to back off because your eyes are only ever on her. You want to say that she can let go and have fun too, because you've got her back. That you cherish her. That she doesn't have to be tough all the time, not around you at least.

The hand dryer stops. You pat the once-wet spot on your clothes, satisfied at the dry feeling after Amber's efforts. When you look up, the words that were going to escape your mouth stop. She's so close, her eyes focused on you as she tucks a wayward strand behind your ear, finger grazing your skin so lightly. Amber takes such good care of you without even needing to be asked.

So you smile, and instead you say "thank you, Ams" and "I'll take care of you too, when you need me."

"I already knew that, baby."

Amber lays a kiss on your lips and it tastes better than any alcohol.

[malum-forev]

jealousy, turning saints into the sea

*

Summary: After Bucky made you jealous with a new recruit, you decide he should get a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Bucky x Agent!reader

Part 1: jealousy, jealousy

“Your dark, angry, grr, Winter Soldier persona isn’t hitting as hard anymore.” Sam smiled as he sat down at the bar next to Bucky.

“Everything that’s happening is your fault.” Bucky hissed, not taking his eyes off of you. You were only a few feet away but the way you were actively ignoring him made Bucky feel thousands of miles away.

“Hey, you were the one who agreed.” Sam held his hands up defensively.

It started as a joke and Bucky never intended for it to become a big deal, or maybe subconsciously he did want it to become a problem. That’s the only explanation as to why he accepted his friend’s bet. 

It all started when Sam suggested Bucky’s love language is possessiveness.

“I am not.” Bucky grumbled, forcing his eyes to concentrate on the man in front of him instead of you. You were finishing up a team meeting with some ex-SHIELD agents. But proving his point about not being overprotective was becoming more and more difficult. His enhanced hearing was playing a twisted game, making Bucky clench his fists as he heard the agents talk about how you looked in your tactical suit. 

“So I assume you waiting for your girlfriend outside the conference room has nothing to do with the fact you want to metaphorically pee on her.” Sam’s smile only made Bucky’s scowl deepen. 

Sam’s words combined with the agents depraved (but accurate) description of your looks were making Bucky’s tolerance level drop down to a zero. His heartbeat rose and he felt a cold sweat start to form. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He asked himself. 

“The things I’d do to her, starting by bending her over the desk and-“ One of the agents said. That was it, he’d had enough. 

Bucky slammed his open palm on the glass barrier separating him from you. The agents jumped in their seats as they saw the Winter Soldier all but break the wall. 

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Your sweet voice calmed his racing heart, Bucky nodded with a tight-lipped smile. 

Sam clutched his stomach as his booming laughter took over the hallway. “You couldn’t even wait for her to get out of the room! You are totally marking your territory.”

“I’m not a dog!” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Then what’s the problem? What’s making your cyborg brain crash?” Sam wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Bucky ran his palm against his face and considered the pros and cons of telling Sam the truth. Pro: he would get it off his chest and it would probably make him feel better. Con: Sam would know.

“The problem is,” Bucky sighed, looking back at you. “She never gets jealous. It’s physically impossible for her to care, and it’s been driving me insane! I consider myself a good-looking guy, some women have even called me handsome! And she just carries on like it doesn’t matter. I feel like she doesn’t want me.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re telling me you want her to be jealous?”

“Maybe I do, sometimes.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just, I think about her morning, evening, and night so whenever I see someone who wants to swoop in and woo her- it makes me violent. But whenever some woman hits on me, she thinks it’s cute.”

“First of all, you need to get that checked. Go to therapy about it or something.” Sam’s reply made Bucky regret ever telling him. “And second of all, of course she gets jealous. She probably just doesn’t tell you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again. “I’m telling you, it’s impossible to make her jealous.”

“Wanna bet?” Sam’s Cheshire smile should have been a big enough red flag. 

So that’s where Bucky found himself, paying the debt for his stupid bet with Sam. He’d succeeded, Bucky made you jealous but at what cost. You’d invited the team out for drinks after a mission and dragged Bucky along just to see him wither. 

You threw your head back with laughter and patted the agent’s chest with your hand.

“No one is that funny.” Bucky grumbled. 

“Is this foreplay for you guys?” Sam wrinkled his face. 

“Of course not,” Bucky drowned the whiskey in his cup. “she’s making me pay for the stupid thing with the recruit.”

“Glad to know my plan worked.” Sam nudged the brunet. “See, this is why you should start listening to me when we’re out on the field.”

“Yeah well your genius plan is biting me in the ass.” 

The way the agent hungrily looked at you made Bucky’s jaw twitch. You were doing this on purpose, and he knew the only thing he could do was sit back and receive his punishment.  

His eyes still sternly glued on you, your every move. Bucky watched as you brought your hand behind your neck and tossed your hair to one side; exposing the side of your neck, a place he knew you loved being kissed. Next, you brought your hand to twirl around the necklace, the long metal catching the agent’s eyes. The eyes that were now traveling to your cleavage. His hungry eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse at whatever he could. 

Bucky knew that look, the look of someone trying to memorize everything their seeing so they can replicate it a few hours later when they’re alone in the shower.

But what sent him over the edge was the way the agent pulled you closer. He snaked his arm behind you, pulling your waist into him. Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, he saw red and was looking for blood. 

Bucky slipped off his leather jacket but not before taking the silencer from the breast pocket. 

“I don’t condone violence.” Sam warned. 

“You fight, knock down and kill people with metal wings.” Bucky said with a harsh tone as he screwed the silencer onto the gun hidden in his back.

Sam placed one of his hands on Bucky’s chest and extended the other one. “Give it to me.”

“You ruin everything.” Bucky groaned, placing the gun in Sam’s hand. 

“That’s more like it.” He smiled. 

“You never said anything about not being able to use my God-given skills.” Bucky said as he pushed up the sleeves on his Henley.   

“God didn’t give you that vibranium arm!” Sam yelled as Bucky pushed past everyone in the small bar.

Within a couple of seconds, Bucky had walked all the way over to the other side of the bar, pushed the agent up the wall and took his shirt in his left arm, the mechanical whir of the vibranium showed the agent just how strong he was. Bucky may no longer have the red star on his shoulder but it was tattooed in his soul, and he wasn’t above showing someone what that meant. 

“You will never again speak to her, touch her, or look at her.” Bucky’s deep voice made the young agent’s eyes widen. “Is that clear?”

The man in his grip nodded furiously. Bucky brought him up a few feet from the floor only to drop him down. Slamming the agent’s body against the wood floors. 

Bucky walked past the lump of bones on the floor. “SHEILD is making its agents weak.”

“You ready to go home, big guy?” You couldn’t contain your smile. 

Bucky left some crumpled bills on the table and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “I’ve been dying for you to say that.” 

————-

Author's Note: hi hiiii! I'm so glad you guys liked pt. 1! Sooo here's Bucky's version! Hope you guys like it! As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! &lt;3

And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[miss-musings]

"You Should Be More Careful With Your Shooting Hand": Was There a Better Way to Address Crosshair's Hand Tremors?

In the weeks since The Bad Batch series finale, I've seen a lot of discussion about how the show handled Crosshair's PTSD, hand tremors and losing his hand to CX-2. I've seen some positive and some negative, and a lot of mixed thoughts.

So, I wanted to share my thoughts on it purely from a writing perspective. There are a lot of aspects of TBB Season 3 that could've been executed better -- *cough* CX-2 *cough* -- but I just want to focus on these ideas on paper.

Before we start: I want to state for the record that I do not have PTSD, nor am I any kind of authority on mental health conditions. I am commenting on this only from a writing perspective. If I happen to come across as insensitive, I apologize because that's not my intention.

So, let's set up the general scenario and look at a few options for tackling it, analyzing the pros and cons of each option.

An Overview of Crosshair's Hand Tremors in S3

From his very first appearance in Season 3, we see that Crosshair has a tremor in his right hand. It is implied to be a symptom of PTSD — or something akin to it in the Star Wars universe — related to being imprisoned and tortured on Tantiss.

His hand tremors impact his sharpshooting abilities during the Tantiss escape in 3.03, during the Lau shootout in 3.04 and during the confrontation with the Ice Wyrm in 3.05. However, he and his allies end up "winning the day" in all three episodes.

(His hand tremors don't seem to be a factor during the Bad Batch's showdown with Asajj Ventress in 3.09. Even if Crosshair had been at 100% against her, I doubt he would've done anything.)

It isn't until 3.07 that Crosshair's hand tremors have lasting negative consequences. As a result of not killing CX-2 during their first shootout in the spire, his group is endangered, Nemec dies and Crosshair nearly dies too.

However, the group manages to escape Teth, and I'd argue that everything in 3.11 probably would've played out the same regardless because Hemlock would’ve sent a different CX operative to Pabu instead. (Although I realize the characters don't know that.)

Crosshair's hand tremors persist through the rest of the series, seemingly getting worse as CF99 prepare to infiltrate Tantiss, until CX-2 cuts it off during the hangar fight in 3.15.

Now, let's analyze a few options for how this could've played out. Again, we're just looking at each one on paper, not in execution.

Option A: The Version We Got

Let's call the canon version Option A.

In this version, Crosshair has tremors in his right hand throughout Season 3, and the only real negative consequence is that CX-2 is alive post-3.07.

In 3.11, Crosshair misses the shot to track Omega to Tantiss. However, it's not because of his hand tremors. It's because of the timing. He was about to shoot when stormtroopers found him on the Sea Wall, and by the time he took the shot — which, why was he running anyway? — it was too late. The ship pulled away at the last second and the tracker fell in the water.

Skipping ahead to 3.15, Crosshair and his brothers are infiltrating Tantiss to rescue Omega and the other prisoners.

There's a mounting sense of dread in the hangar fight: the CX operatives show up; Hunter is knocked unconscious; and Wrecker is attacked. As the dark climax/conclusion for the hangar fight and as the payoff to their one-sided rivalry, CX-2 decides to cut off Crosshair's shooting hand.

The entire hangar fight, but especially this moment of CX-2 attacking Crosshair and preparing to cut off his hand, is probably the darkest moment in the entire finale. This is underscored by the next two scenes: In a moment of morbid humor/dramatic irony, Omega notes that the blaster fire is over and leads the other kids to the hangar; and then Echo sees his defeated brothers being carted away to Hemlock's lab.

Crosshair's amputation then adds tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock, as now he's down a hand in general and his dominant hand at that.

So, let's look at the pros and cons of Option A (the version we got):

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark conclusion to the hangar fight; additional tension in the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker

(EDIT: This ScreenRant article also argues that Crosshair losing his hand severs his connection to Tantiss and "marks a turning point toward redemption and a brighter future." So, make of that what you will.)

CONS: Admittedly this is being reductive, but Option A could feel like the amputation essentially "solves" Crosshair's hand tremors and/or PTSD, which is definitely not how it works. It could also be a very careless way to tackle such a heavy subject matter, especially for those who suffer from PTSD and see themselves in Crosshair. (As I'll talk about more in a second, this is something YouTuber SheevTalks discussed in his TBB Season 3 review.)

Option B: Crosshair Keeps His Hand in the Finale

This is the version that I saw YouTuber SheevTalks and some other folks on social media champion. (Note: feel free to watch his TBB Season 3 review, but just know that I DO NOT agree with all of his takes about the season or the show in general.)

Essentially, everything with Crosshair's hand tremors plays out the same way up until 3.11. In this version, he misses the shot to track Omega's ship because of the hand tremors, not because of the timing.

This would add greater tension in the episodes leading up to the finale, because failing to track CX-2's ship would be an immediate and direct consequence of his hand tremors. With the exception of CX-2 surviving 3.07, we haven't had anything like this in Season 3.

It would also directly contribute to Crosshair feeling that he failed Omega (and his brothers) because of his hand tremors and add to his insecurity that he's not the capable sharpshooter he used to be anymore.

This version would have him keep his hand through the finale. That way, in the final confrontation with Hemlock, he has to battle against his hand tremors and self-doubt to save Omega. But, unlike in 3.11, this time he would be doing it with his family's physical and emotional support.

As SheevTalks argues, there are a lot of positives to this version:

PROS: a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs; Crosshair gets to keep his hand!

However, under Option B, there would also be some drawbacks and several things that would need to be addressed:

CONS: Without CX-2 cutting off Crosshair's hand in the hangar fight, we'd need some equally high-stakes conclusion AND have some kind of payoff for CX-2's rivalry with Crosshair.

Crosshair needs to sustain some kind of injury in the fight. It'd need to be 1) survivable 2) as severe and dark as losing his dominant hand and 3) add to the tension during the final confrontation with Hemlock.

CX-2 couldn't just knock Crosshair out, because then Crosshair would essentially be in the same physical state post-hangar fight as he would be pre-hangar fight. Yes, there would be additional tension in the confrontation with Hemlock because he'd have to overcome his hand tremors, but we still need some other way to conclude the hangar fight.

I've wracked my brain trying to think of ideas, and I can't come up with anything that would be as dark but survivable as getting his hand cut off — as terrible as that sounds.

I mean Wrecker gets shot in the leg later in the finale and Echo gets stabbed in the back/shoulder, and neither wound is ever addressed again. So, we'd need something much worse than either of those, but still survivable.

Plus, as I've discussed before, CX-2 is a petty bitch who definitely had a grudge against Crosshair. Cutting off his shooting hand kind of makes sense in a dark and twisted way.

One more con I'll mention is that, being reductive again, people could argue that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through "the power of love" or "the power of friendship" might be cliché. But, as I'll talk about more in a bit, I don't really have a problem with that.

*****

Now, looking at Options A and B, neither is perfect. Both of them have problems, even just on paper.

So, I wonder: is there a way we can combine the two so we have the best of both worlds?

Allow me to introduce:

Option C: Crosshair Has Tremors in Both Hands

In this version, we'd set up very early in Season 3 that Crosshair has tremors in BOTH hands. Maybe his tremors are more severe in his right hand, because he uses it more; or maybe because it's his dominant hand, it's more noticeable. It doesn't really matter.

Pretty much everything in Season 3 would happen the same way, up until 3.11, when — just like Option B — Crosshair misses the shot on Pabu because of his hand tremors not because of the timing.

Then, in the 3.15 hangar fight, CX-2 still cuts off his right hand so we have payoff for their one-sided rivalry and have our dark, high-stakes conclusion to the hangar fight.

So, by the time we get to the final confrontation with Hemlock, we have double the tension because Crosshair is missing his dominant hand AND he has tremors in his left hand too.

(Side note: Because S3 canon makes it clear that Crosshair's tremors are ONLY in his right hand, I wondered why he didn't start shooting his pistol leftie as a way to compensate. As we see in 3.15, his aim was fine, and we know he can shoot leftie pretty well from S1-2.)

Option C would also make it clear to the audience that Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors are not "solved" simply because he got his hand cut off, which would be a problem with Option A.

So, under this scenario, we combine most of the pros for both Options A and B:

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark climax for the hangar fight; additional tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker; a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs

CONS:

Under Option C, I really can't think of any new downsides.

The only one I can see is people complaining that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through the "power of love" is cliche. But, as I said, I don't have a problem with that.

If we're going to be reductive about PTSD and its symptoms — with hand tremors being only one of many possible symptoms — I would much rather be reductive in a positive way. He's able to briefly overcome his hand tremors in a moment of need because he has his family's physical and emotional support. That's a far cry from "His PTSD/hand tremors are now solved!"

(EDIT: You can make the case that this also happened in the canon version. While I agree that Crosshair only made that shot in 3.15 bc he had his family’s support, I still don’t think the resolution to his PTSD/hand tremors plot line was well-executed.)

As I said I'm not an authority in mental health, but what I do know is that feeling mentally and emotionally supported, having a group of family and/or friends you can trust and confide in, and generally just having a sense of community are major factors to improving one's mental health.

Throughout Season 3, we see Crosshair wanting to deal with his hand tremors (and likely his PTSD in general) by himself. But, his family help him address it and begin the healing process.

Hunter to Omega in 3.08: See if you can convince (Crosshair) to get his hand looked at. Ignoring it won't make the problem go away. Omega to Crosshair in 3.08: Just because there's nothing AZI can do, doesn't mean your hand can't get better. Maybe you're the one who has to fix it. Omega later in 3.08: It's meditation. It'll help you heal. Not just your hand, but your mind too.

So, yeah, if we're going to be reductive about something as heavy and complex as PTSD and mental health in general, I would much rather emphasize "the power of love/friendship/family" than whatever the alternative is. Even if it's cliché.

Honestly, I think Option C would've been the best option of the three I've discussed. There are a few other possibilities I've considered — like what if CX-2 knew about Crosshair's hand tremors from their time together on Tantiss and CX-2 cut off his left hand in the hangar fight??? — but I think we'd ultimately end up covering a lot of the same ground.

However, these are all my opinions. I'm interested to hear everyone's take on this. Feel free to comment/reblog with your thoughts.

[tremarctoss]

now we live beside the pool where everything is good

After the Revolution, four is Finnick’s luckiest number.

Rating: Explicit

ao3 link: HERE

Finnick Odair x Original Female Character, kinda porn with plot, idk?

Finnick is angry. No, not angry, he’s furious. Not only he has to accept another year of Hunger Games and Johanna - of all the people - will be running them together with Enobaria. No, not only that. He also has to attend the hearing of his prep team. All the members working with One and Two were executed publicly already. Those from Three were long dead.

He barely has any time to ponder if and how he can save anyone. Hardly sleeps that night, counting the pros and cons of every member of his team. Enobarbus is the closest to him, the only person working with him all the time and never sugar-coating what’s about to happen. He even tried to warn him when he was about to get sold for the first time. But with over twenty years of experience as a stylist, he is as good as dead. 

Helvina is the only annoying of them all. Always talking about wanting to paint his body sea blue and green and marking him with tattoos. The only reason why he spares her any thought is because she has several children that will end up at the orphanage for sure. He gives up thinking about her when they tell him her husband died defending Snow during the bombing of the Capitol. 

Vibiana is the oldest and the illness is claiming her already. Killing her is mercy. Making her live the remaining months of her short life while they are low on every kind of medicine is just an ill-treatment of a dying person.

Tacita is the last and he almost does not recognize her. She is younger than him, only working as the hairdresser since the star-crossed lovers won their Games. He remembers how long her blonde hair was, how she had to gather it to not sit down on it. Now it is ending just under her chin. How her skin was glowing, dusted with freckles, now it looks almost gray. How her eyes were laughing at all the dumb things he said when she was massaging his scalp, but now they do not even look in his direction. He cannot guess what kind of blue they are today, that’s how much she is focused on not looking at anyone. Someone has hit her across the face and Finnick clasps his hands into fists until he feels his short nails digging into the skin. It was completely unnecessary for sure, she cannot even talk back.

- And we found her not wanting to give up those earrings. Real pearls and diamonds, not those fake things produced at One. - The man sitting in the middle of the long table says. - She could not afford them with her hairdresser payment. So she clearly must have stolen them.

Finnick recognizes them immediately. He remembers the way she blushed when he took out her ugly glass pink earrings out and put those on her instead. How she kissed his hands after. How she wore them all the time during the Quarter Quell while trying to hide her tears. How she tried to smile the night before he got sent back to the arena. How she sobbed when he came to her and kissed her hands himself and told her to take care of herself.

- Those are from me. I thought they would keep her safer than an engagement ring. - Finnick lies. - Thought she could sell them to keep herself safe after the Games.

- Do you still want to marry her? - It’s Coin who asks him. Her voice is bored but there's also a hint of curiosity there. - You never told anyone about her, did you?

Finnick plays his most innocent face.

- You said my prep team was murdered by Snow. - he reminds her.

-----

There’s no ceremony and no fancy outfits and no extravagant dinner. A man comes to his room in the evening with papers and he signs them immediately, all four copies. Tatiana’s hair is still wet from the shower. She is so exhausted that he has to carry her from the bedroom and help her sit down in front of the man. 

- Do you want to marry Finnick Odair? - The man asks and gets irritated when she does not answer. - The contract is not valid until I hear you answer aloud.

- Then I think you should leave. - Finnick does not try to hide his own anger. - Because she cannot speak, never in her life did.

The man gets red in the face, stammers and writes the same note on all four papers saying “the woman is mute but the consent is obvious” before passing them to the girl so she can sign them herself. Leaves without a look in her direction and only shakes Finnick's hand. 

He tries to make her look at him but gives up when she flinches when he touches her chin. The mark on her face is even redder now, mocking him in the dim light.

-----

It takes him four weeks of feeding her until she can eat on her own without getting sick. He starts with creamy soups and gently brings a spoon to her lips. The first day she swallows only a few before shaking her head and covering herself with a blanket. He tries to make her eat a little bit more but she just takes his palm and kisses it on the inside. He gives up, wraps his arms around her and watches her every breath when she sleeps that night. Promises himself to feed her one spoon more every day when she wakes up.

Another four weeks until she does not look away from him. He is still watching her fall asleep and wake up and naming all the shades of the brown and gold her freckles turn now. Reads her aloud Hemingway and Tolkien and Le Guin and Tokarczuk and every book people in his District hid before Peacekeepers so they wouldn’t burn them. She usually watches him when he reads but turns away the moment he stops and looks at her. But when he says “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with that there is.” she blushes crimson and withstands his gaze. He kisses her then, a small peck to her forehead, another on the tip of her nose and two more, each for one of the corners of her mouth. He keeps doing this every morning and night. 

His nightmares stop.

Further four weeks until she takes his hand and points her finger at the door so he can take her outside and show her the Ocean. It’s cold and gray but not windy and he does not catch her when she kneels in the wet sand. Only when her body shakes with silent sobs he realizes he was so focused on having her with him and getting her to feel better he never asked about her family or other things that could be a danger for the both of them. He sits down behind her, not caring how wet his pants get, not caring how cold he is until he gets the whole story out of her. Her fingers, with her nails still raw-bitten, skin terribly dry, shake when she tells him her family died in the bombings and it’s only her now.

- Us. - Finnick tells her kissing the bitten skin around her fingernails. - You have me now. We’re facing the world together.

She kisses him then, her body trembling with nervous energy when she presses her mouth against his forehead, nose and corners of his lips like he did before. 

He takes her for a walk every day after, making sure to talk as much as he can about the Ocean and his District, about the people she may meet and what to expect. He reads the books aloud when they sit in the sand, her body always in his lap, her arms around his middle, her breath warming his throat. He starts dreaming about her naked underneath him again.

When she comes to him after the next four weeks he already knows what will happen. He does not help her undress herself, instead sits on the sofa to watch her take off her dress and takes a deep breath himself when she reveals to be wearing nothing underneath it. The earrings he gave her are the only things she has on and he marvels for a moment how stunning she looks dressed in them. Her hair is grazing her shoulders and he’s glad. He hopes she will grow them long again.

He kisses her deeply then, his hands caressing her whole body gently until she kisses one of his hands and brings it in between her legs. She is so wet he has to remind himself to take it slowly and not scare her. 

- I’m going to carry you to our bedroom now. - He tells her. - Lay on my back on the bed and put you on top of me and use my fingers to make you come. Twice I think. I want to know that it feels good for you and that you know how to make me stop when something doesn't feel right. 

He uses one of his fingers to spread her folds and move it around her clit. She stands up on her tip-toes before bringing her body back down on his finger and sliding her cunt up and down on it. Finnick kneels in front of her and licks her quickly, hoping for a small taste. Moans loudly and pushes his finger in between her folds for another second. He undresses himself and strokes his cock several times before hugging her and pressing his member against her stomach.

- I think my fingers once and my mouth twice after all. - He says holding himself even closer to her. - And this is how far my cock will end up being inside you. It may be a little bit much for the first time so I want you to tap my hand or arm twice when you want me to stop, alright? 

She blushes crimson red from her forehead to her breasts but gets on her toes again to kiss him deeply. Finnick starts wondering where his control is coming from now because pinning her against the wall and sliding inside her heat is everything he’s thinking about. He wraps his right arm under her ass, squeezing one of her buttocks, and carries her upstairs. She starts playing with his hair and he cannot stop the moan when he remembers how she was doing that back in the Capitol.

- I had to masturbate several times after you did that. - He tells her, sitting them both down, her in his lap. - The night before the Games I was thinking about coming into your room and introducing my mouth to your count.

He almost comes on the spot when she kisses him sweetly and signs to him that she would allow him to do that. She kisses him again and he groans inside her mouth when she wraps her hand around his cock.

- Like this. - He tells her and wraps his own hand around hers. - A little bit firmer is what I like. Look at me now sweetheart. I want to see your eyes.

Her blush spreads when he comes on her stomach. He almost pushes her on her back and buries his mouth in her cunt when she takes his hand and starts licking it clean. Finnick takes the closest pillow and wipes her stomach with it. He sends it flying across the room and it hits the wall. He will worry about possible stains on the paint later.

She tries to run away when he lays down and positions her cunt above his face. He has to use some of his strength to keep her in place.

- It’s easier for me to watch you like that. - He tells her. - And I want to be sure I’m not forcing you into anything you don’t like.

He starts with her left knee, leaving small pecks there. He licks his way up and bites lightly where her thigh and hips meet, does the same to her second leg before pressing his tongue to her clit. She makes a sound then, something close to whimpering so he looks up to make sure she’s not in pain. There are tears in the corners of her eyes but she has a hand on her breast and a small smile on her lips so he starts sucking on her clit until she makes those tiny sounds again and has to put her hands on the wall to keep herself up. He doesn't close his eyes and doesn't stop sucking until her hips start moving against his face. 

It's different from what he's used to, to people loudly saying what they expected him to do, but he's good at reading everyone, still has to be in order to survive. He does not stop licking her when she comes. Instead, he spreads her legs even more and brings her cunt even closer to his mouth. She does not try to run away this time, instead shyly moves herself up and down his face, shaking when she falls apart.

He rolls her over slowly, making sure her head does not hit the bed frame. He wipes his mouth with his hand but she sucks his tongue into her mouth when he kisses her. He spreads her again, making sure to inform her about his every move. He slides one finger into her cunt first and she's so wet that the second and even third come in easily. He pumps them in and out quickly while telling her how good she feels around his fingers. How wet she is, how he thought so much about doing this, how he cannot wait to bury his cock in her and make her body shake and fall apart. 

He has to put his hand on her stomach to stop her from trying to get away when she's close. Her body almost snaps in half and she lightly kicks him accidentally in his ribs. She tries to make herself smaller when she calms down and barely has strength to move her fingers in apology after.

- Don't. - he tells her, marking her body with his teeth. He starts with the skin under her left breast. - I don't mind. I enjoy watching you fall apart.

He licks and bites until he feels her cunt clutching at his fingers again. Only then he removes them and rolls the condom onto his cock. She doesn’t try to stop him but nods her consent and kisses his hands all the time while he slides slowly into her. 

- We will get mirrors. On the ceiling and every wall. - he tells her when he finally bottoms out. - so it’s easier for me to watch you and make sure I am not hurting you. 

She blushes even more, he never knew it was possible for someone to do that. But she also nods and wraps her legs around him and brings him even closer so he stops holding back and just fucks her until she scratches him a little. She tries to apologize but he just pins her hand next to her head telling her he doesn't mind.

Because he truly doesn't, he knows where he is and who he is with and that's fine.

-----

She starts cutting and styling his hair after that. It is never as short as during his time in the Capitol and he makes sure to tell her several times that he adores it longer. Loves her for never trying to make him look like the man people in the Panem lusted over. Puts his mouth on her cunt to show her just how much it means to him. Tries to make love to her at least once daily.

- I don't remember sex being so nice and fulfilling for me ever. - He says when she asks if he's not tired. - If I could I would have made love to you all the time.

She just sighs before kneeling in between his legs and unzipping his fly. She kisses his stomach when he tries to stop her and wraps her fingers around his cock before taking him into her mouth. He almost comes on the spot when she looks into his eyes.

- I love you, - He tells her and she smiles with her mouth full and brings one of her hands under her skirt. - so much.

-----

He loves adoring her body with love bites and makes sure there’s at least one visible when she goes shopping in the town so no one hits on her. There’s no point in him following her everywhere. He wants her to have her own space but also wants her to be safe. He gets her two trained dogs so she is never alone anywhere. They are taught to react to certain motions she makes with her hands and it fills him with joy when she giggles when one of them licks her face. 

Two cats come next. To keep her warm when he goes for a run in the early mornings. Those assholes try to keep him out of bed when he comes back and he has a lot of fur to remove from his clothes every day. They also grow so fat they don’t even try to come outside and lazily roll away when she buys or makes new toys to make them move. He is sure they are getting that big on purpose. Their goal is surely to suffocate him. Sometimes when he sleeps with his mouth open one of them lays on his face until he has no choice but to throw them and the dogs out of the room. Of course he uses it as an excuse to lay his own face in between his wife’s breasts after that. 

-----

It takes only four days for Coin to send him back during the first new Games because everyone is sick of him talking about his wife and how much he adores her. Should he buy that book for her? Will that necklace go with her skin tone? Will those cookies last the trip and taste great when he brings them to her? Is that silk scarf something she would wear or just a tacky present?

- You could bring her here. - Johanna tells him when he’s throwing his clothes back into his backpack. - Or to Seven. I think everyone would love to meet her.

- You can visit us and bring Annie with you. - He says back. - She is not going anywhere. Four is her home now.

She is shocked and scared when he comes back early. He needs several minutes to calm her down and explain that everything is alright. He got some more duties at his District after all.

- You will accompany me, alright? - She gives him a small nod and he cannot stop himself from pressing his mouth against her neck and marking her again. - Wear your hair up, okay? I want everyone to know you are only mine.

-----

He does not join the next war when Plutarch rises to power. He ignores all the four summons Coin sends his way and only comes with his wife to the Capitol when it's time for a new President to be sworn in. He spends all the time watching her intensely and barely paying any attention to people around them.

- I'm just thinking about all the things I could be doing to you instead. - He tells her when she raises her eyebrow at him. She just sighs and kisses his cheek quickly and squeezes his hand.

- I don't know how she puts up with you. - Johanna tells him.

- That's rich. - Finnick says stealing a strawberry from her plate. - Especially now that you even ended up having a wife.

She and Annie move from Seven to Four shortly after Finnick welcomes his first child.

[ Four is the number of anniversaries they celebrate before their first kid is born and four is the number of the children they will have. ]

[ Four is the number of breaths he will take before following his elderly wife into death. ]

[inhumanheresy]

Liyue is so vastly different than Sumeru in so many broad ways that it's overwhelming to try and take it all in with just one awed stare at the sheer enormity of differences. But Dehya wears that look for a long minute, trying to decide what to focus on first, before deciding that it would be much easier to just go into the city, start small, get some food and drink, walk the streets, look at the vendor stalls and shops. She's ready to be done walking, as most of her trip from Sumeru was done on foot, but resting can wait for later, after she's had a look around and sound her way to an inn.

And so she does, spending the day meandering without purpose, buying some snacks (and promising herself to go back for more later, because damn that's good), finding her way to the harbor and watching the sea, the ships, taking in the scent of the salty air. It's so different than the dry desert she hails from, and she can feel that same awe from esrlier beginning to fill her mind again. It's incredible.

As the sun sinks towards the horizon and paints the sky with pinks and yellows, she tears her eyes away and glances around. She still has yet to find an inn, but food and drink feels more important. She could go for some wine - or something harder, but she'll save that for when she isn't brand fucking new to the city. A man catches her eye, a mask affixed to the side of his head, the silhouette of what reminds her of a Fatui. Not unusual, there's Fatui everywhere, but he looks far more relaxed than most she's seen. With a smile, she moves towards him.

"Hey there," she says with an air to match what he exudes: casual, friendly, but still with an edge of alertness disguised behind a grin. "You know of any good places here to eat? Preferably with a decent wine to go with it."

Childe heads out of work just before the sky and clouds start turning colours, the sun not yet all the way behind Mount Tianheng. Instead of heading straight back to Baiju Guesthouse, he slips his hands into his pockets and ambles his way southward through the throngs of people on the main street, debating the pros and cons of picking up groceries versus finding a place to eat for dinner against the murmuring backdrop of the crowd.

He has yet to make a decision when a call in a distinctly non-Liyuen accent catches his attention, almost as striking as the visage that accompanies it — a lilting woman’s voice, probably a low alto, he thinks, whose consonants terminate in an unfamiliar manner. Her hair is… wow. That mane alone is extremely eye-catching with its luxurious volume and streaks of gold. The woman wears dusty travel clothes, ones mostly well suited for the heat and humidity of Liyue, but not of any style even remotely close to those worn by people in the harbor.

That leather will be miserable to get out of.

“Depends; do you know how to use chopsticks? My usual dining company is very insistent that,” he folds his hands behind his back as he draws himself up perfectly straight — thanks owed to his old foot-soldier training — and affects a deep, Liyuen-accented voice, “‘Liyuen cuisine can be properly appreciated only when one dines with the appropriate utensils, as the chef and tradition intended’. Restaurants up on Feiyun Slope share that idea, and while you can forego chopsticks there, they’ll give you judgy looks.”

Childe chuckles, his posture relaxing back into his usual lanky ease, and thumbs over his shoulder towards the less-upscale district of Chihu Rock. “But I happen to know that Wanmin Restaurant keeps forks on hand for foreigners; there’s good food there too, and they’re not far from a little hole-in-the-wall place that serves good baijiu and beer both. Chef Mao at Wanmin lets customers bring their own alcohol to the tables so long as nobody gets rowdy.”

The mysterious woman doesn’t look like she’s from Mondstadt or Fontaine, despite the immaculate eye-shade and lines of kohl that would meet the approval of even the strictest salonnière, so he doesn’t extend his hand for an introduction. Instead, he gives her a friendly little two-fingered wave. “Call me ‘Childe’.”

[magnorious]

A Titan’s Curse Retrospective, 16 Years Later

Lightning Thief and Sea of Monsters **Spoiler Alert**

When I first got my hands on this book, I looked at how thin it was and worried that each consecutive book would be shorter than the last. Titan’s Curse is the off-beat middle episode of the five, occurring around the winter solstice instead of during summer break.

It was never my favorite, but I remembered liking it because it felt darker. I remembered that, for the first time, characters we were supposed to care about were dying on the page. The gods were up close and personal now, at the heart of the quest. There were guns in this book, destiny-challenging decisions to forestall the Great Prophecy for a little while longer.

And, of course, Blackjack, the Dam Snack Bar, Fred, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and the arrival of the di Angelos.

Maybe that’s just nostalgia talking, ‘cause I’m pretty sure that when it came out, before HOO, Titan’s Curse was dead last on everyone’s tier list for one reason: Annabeth is absent for most of the plot, and Zoë is kind of irritating.

—

The Titan’s Curse

We open immediately to a much more serious tone than before, and a timeskip unlike before. The growth of Percy and Thalia’s relationship happens entirely offscreen between books, which is a bit disappointing. During the gap between TlT and SoM, the time in between books was filled with school, details unimportant to the plot. Here, though, we’ve missed some potentially juicy plot beats like Thalia’s reaction to the passage of time, her meeting Percy, another illegal demigod, her reunion with Annabeth and discovery that Luke turned traitor.

Maybe, if the Disney show makes it that far, we’ll get to see those missed opportunities on screen. But you do start the book feeling like there was a chapter left on the cutting room floor.

Doubly so, they spent at least a couple months together before chapter one, enough to build a rapport and make a confident team together, and yet Percy somehow has never seen Thalia manipulate the Mist before.

Sixteen years later and it is buckwild even seeing Nico’s name dropped for the first time nine pages in. He’s not even in the book for more than the first couple chapters and right at the end for the big reveal. He was nobody’s favorite leading all the way up to House of Hades four whole ass books from now, just an eager little kid, then a bratty little goth wannabe, then an angsty goth wannabe.

Getting flung back to lil’ wide-eyed and bushy tailed 10-year old Nico is sobering. He was such a little nerd with his Mythomagic figurines and cards and dumb, dorky 10-year-old questions.

**Side note - in my SoM I falsely recalled that the Grover empathy link never made a reappearance and I am pleasantly surprised that it does get mentions here, even if it doesn’t do much.**

—

The opening fight, while thrilling, is held back a little by Percy’s continued ignorance. He’s fourteen, he’s been at this for two years now, and he’s still the last to find things out (for the benefit of the audience). Before, it made sense, he was young and inexperienced, but if he’s out here leading raids and rescue parties, he’s got no excuses to not be doing his homework and I wish Riordan had come up with a different method of getting exposition to the audience this time around.

Immediately after, enter the Hunters’ blatant sexism and I’m left scratching my head on why I remember liking this book so much. It’s off to a rather rocky start.

It’s not so much that Artemis leads a club of eternal tweenage virgins. The Hunters are a sanctuary alternative to Camp Half-Blood and it has its pros and cons. My problem, especially as I’m older reading this, is that Artemis gets Bianca murdered promising her a break from her horrible, no good, very bad baby brother, and there’s no reckoning for that.

There’s no alternative to her statement of only being patron to girls “before they go astray” like the moment puberty hits Artemis kicks these hedonistic sinners to the curb. Thalia sure hates them and calls it stupid (before joining them in the end) and Percy makes his opinions on Bianca’s selfishness clear, but beyond a reluctant approval of Percy after he almost dies holding up the sky, there is no “yeah our club isn’t actually as awesome as us snooty girls think it is”. Artemis is still a good guy, so are the hunters, and their ideology is never challenged.

Bianca dies! She’d still be alive if Artemis hadn’t been a predatory patron, snatching her up in a moment of weakness and ripping her little brother’s only family away because, by nature of being a boy, he sucks.

In other words, she doesn’t get to be painted as a decent goddess when she’s no better than Hera and Zeus with her strawmanning. Especially when Apollo and, heck, Dionysus, show so much more humanity in this book.

Artemis is just so hard on the poor kid and thank the gods Percy didn’t die before he could save Nico from himself. Nico would have absolutely joined Luke and burned Olympus to the ground without Percy’s intervention, and it would have been Artemis’ fault. “Yes, boy. You see, Bianca di Angelo is not the only one with an annoying brother.” My good bitch, who do you think you are? He’s 10!

It is abundantly clear why the Nico di Angelo Protection Squad found such strong footing. The whole nexus of this series is the gods’ neglect and the first 70 pages of this book are a stellar example of what Luke’s been yammering about this whole time.

—

As always, the foreshadowing and subtle reminders are solid. Tyson’s throwaway line about the Princess Andromeda heading toward the Panama Canal so it can eventually reach the West Coast, the reminder of the dragon that scarred Luke’s face via souvenir claw in the Big House attic. The reminder that Percy’s sword Riptide has a tragic past and all the hints that Bianca and Nico are children out of time as they suddenly remember forgotten details from their past and Bianca’s lucky strike on the skeletons.

Oh, and this poignant little nugget from the souvenir pile in the attic, a tag attached to a broken sword hilt: “This broke and Leroy got killed, 1999.” I can picture Leroy’s surviving friends staring at that broken weapon and having nothing more to say than that, and abandoning it to collect dust in the attic.

Percy is still rife with realistic, humanizing flaws. He’s jealous of Thalia and suffering an inferiority complex, mucking up the di Angelo rescue mission thinking he can do it on his own, and then the capture the flag game, and then going off on his own during the second quest that’s not about him. His rivalry with Thalia, the only demigod that can go toe-to-toe with him in terms of abilities, is something fresh for this book. Thalia’s like a less obnoxious Annabeth because she doesn’t suffer that Athenian hubris making her a know-it-all.

—

Bianca fits right in with the Hunters, not missing her little brother one bit (stone cold, girl. Stone. Cold.) Acting like a sudden expert at the Ping Pong table counselor meeting. I know she’s been groomed by a selfish misandrist but she’s not long for this book and it has done nothing to endear audiences to her.

She gets worse when she has her first minute alone with Percy and he reassures her that abandoning her baby brother is perfectly fine so long as she’s happy when… no? Percy took like, two weeks to come to terms with being a demigod and an entire quest. Bianca takes two days and she’s rearing up to go on a quest to save her cult leader.

She explains that she’s raised Nico all her life and wanted to experience something outside of caring for him, even though she knows it’s selfish of her to just up and abandon him, his feelings be damned. Thing is, it is selfish. I feel zero sympathy for this girl and I doubt she fully understands what she signed up for. She will be twelve forever and Nico will, theoretically, grow up, grow old, and see her only a handful of times in their lives before he’s dead. All because he’s a bit irritating at his age and she wants a vacation.

When she dies not long after, the point of her character even existing beyond being Nico’s motivation gets a bit muddied. Artemis and the Hunters aren’t punished by the narrative for getting her killed, she doesn’t die doing anything spectacular and she wakes the very monster that kills her trying to get a trinket for Nico, then she’s dead.

Trying to be independent set her on the path to dying young, feeling guilty about abandoning the only family she had left is what sealed the deal.

—

The original cover art! The ‘07 American version with Percy and Blackjack in indigo. TLT’s art didn’t pull from any one specific scene and SoM was more inspired by the rope bridge with Polyphemus on the sheep island, but TTC’s art is ripped straight from the page and I love how it has both nothing to do with the title of the book and is totally out of left field concerning Dionysus (and I think the best moment of the book).

The scene in question is Dionysus interrupting Percy and Blackjack’s pursuit of the questers in Manhattan, showing more agency in that moment than he had in the past two books. He tells Percy about Ariadne and why he hates heroes (because they’re selfish) alluding to why Zoë hates heroes. Percy has been quite self-important in this book, but he's no Theseus, not even close.

The settings in this book aren’t nearly as colorful as the previous two, and the same goes for the monsters along the way. It’s winter and it feels like it, in more ways than one. There’s human mercenaries, the grey skeletal soldiers, the Nemean lion that doesn’t talk, Talos that doesn’t talk, and a few other oddballs.

The junkyard of the gods where they fight Talos has wonderfully creepy and foreboding vibes. Things that get thrown away there are abandoned for a reason.

All the quirky sense of adventure that existed before is gone this time around and while I enjoy the tonal shift personally, I don’t know that it was the best choice to make for the series as a whole. The lack of “color” is made worse by all the other irritating and frustrating elements.

The best elements remain the most off-beat ones, like Apollo in incognito mode, the Dam snack bar, everything I remembered from reading this as a kid, along with Dionysus’ moments and Dr. Chase.

TTC’s prophecy is solid, and since we get it at the beginning this time, we get to wrack our brains trying to solve it along with the cast. It’s not as ambiguous as TLT’s prophecy, but I like the cadence, how long it is, and how ominous it is – right off the bat, you know two people are dead this book.

Five shall go west to the goddess in chains,

One shall be lost in the land without rain,

The bane of Olympus shows the trail,

Campers and Hunters combined prevail,

The Titan’s Curse must one withstand,

And one shall perish by a parent’s hand.

—

Zoë is… frustrating. I hate to go all “not all men” but jeez, girl, not all men. She even says those exact words herself as she’s dying. So much bitterness and resentment in her long life. Why couldn’t Artemis be a good patron of immortal tweenagers and find them a decent therapist? I’m lumping her in with Artemis for their antiquated and frankly ridiculous pontificating. I get that’s Artemis’ schtick; doesn’t make it fun or interesting to read.

Zoë is a victim of godly propaganda and her death is as tragic as Bianca’s, the fate of heroes little more than divine chess pieces tossed aside at a whim. Her memorial as the new constellation is poignant, it just unfortunately was given to a character more frustrating than endearing. Her whole arc in this book is appreciating that not all heroes are awful thanks to Percy, but she struts around like her sh*t doesn’t smell.

Zoë hates heroes because Hercules did her dirty, Thalia hinted that Annabeh considered joining the Hunters because of Percy, and Dionysus told Percy he’d never stop being selfish and self-centered and the thing is he’s… not?

Yes he messes up at the start of this book but they’re kind of strawmanning him, like by nature of being a boy and being a Greek demigod he’s doomed to be exactly like his predecessors when he’s shown no indication so far of using and abusing people. His fatal flaw is loyalty. Annabeth was never going to be his Ariadne.

—

The villains plan here is solid, Riordan has a good track record of walking the line between complex and contrived. They needed Artemis to hold the sky to get her away from the Solstice meeting so the gods wouldn’t be productive. To get Artemis, they made do with using Annabeth as bait. Then they needed Bessie and an illegal prophecy child (Thalia, the oldest) to trigger the prophecy two books early. It almost works, until Thalia dips out of turning 16 by becoming an immortal fifteen-year-old at the last possible second.

The villains also use mortals this time, and mortal weaponry – guns and helicopters and mortal mercenaries. They don’t do much, none of them even get named, but they exist and they help make this book a little grittier.

—

Despite all the above complaints, the book doesn’t fall to middle-chapter syndrome. The story is fast paced and gritter than the two before it, the battles are all well written and unique. It’s not a bad story by any means, it just has some frustrating elements that dampen the enjoyment. The slower beats aren’t between Percy and Annabeth this time and Grover spends a lot of the book mooney-eyed over the moon goddess so he and Percy don’t get a lot of solid moments either. Thalia is too prickly to let her guard down long enough for a deep conversation but she almost gets there.

Major characters die this time and the approaching war feels that much closer, delayed for now but still looming ever over our heroes. I do like the characterization of the gods this time around being much more involved in the story. When Percy and Annabeth do finally reunite, matching grey streaks in their hair, it's cute and fluffy and a great way to wrap up the story before the Nico reveal, and what a reveal it is. It's not Thalia, unambiguously older, it's Nico, definitively younger leaving you antsy that, still, Percy might not be the prophecy kid after all.

[jueying]

celesticlnstcrs / random act prompts / not accepting

☠️ ( jy probs protecting dg from ren ) ☠️ protect my muse

His timely exile from the Xianzhou Luofu had presented with a vast array of pros and cons - his freedom from the depth of the Shackling Prison most certainly stood above most inconveniences that came from being cast out into the universe with little else besides the clothes on his person, a spear that felt at home in his hand, and knowledge of his own name. That being said, one of the aforementioned cons seemed to follow him as persistently as a shadow - from planet to train to space shuttle and as undying like the unending cycle of day to night. No matter the number of times he managed to cut him down, he would surely rise again in pursuit of the hunt.

It wasn't until boarding the Astral Express was there a momentary escape from those encounters. The reassurances from the members of the Express were kind to offer and he truly wish that he could wholeheartedly believe them but experience sat on his shoulders like a cloak - weighing down on his back whenever he thought about letting himself sink into unawareness. The longer his stay with them, the more he found his vigilance growing, the more he wanted to protect them from his own past.

It hadn't been a surprise then when everything came to a head when the Express graced the shores of the Luofu; this was where everything had begun so many years ago, after all. A past fragmented in the cobwebs of memory, a form he sought to conceal for the sake of safety, and an ally who stood strong through the test of time - all cumulating in the sins that the primordial sea should have washed away. This life was his own, but he couldn't help feeling sympathetic towards those without the respite he had obtained.

That being said, years of relative peace hadn't meant that he had forgotten about the relentless nature of the other's pursuit - looming shadow the only warning received before the too familiar swing of a fragmented blade whistled through the air.

It was fine, this conflict was one he had encountered time and time again - was the mantra he spoke to himself as his grip tightened over Cloud Piercer's handle once more, encounters melding together in his memory to prepare himself for the other's next strike.

Except the next strike never struck his spear, metallic twang cutting into his eardrums not coming from the clash of sword against spear but instead sword against glaive - flutter of white and crimson coming into view after.

"Why are you here?" The question left him before he could think, gaze fixated on the general's back when he stood in front of him like a fortress wall. To many, this sight must be a reassuring one - to know that their general would willingly put himself on the front lines in order to defend others whenever he could and Dan Heng couldn't deny that there was there was some relief at the basin of his soul from just Jing Yuan's presence.

The other part of him remembered how Jing Yuan's back had looked back at Scalegorge Waterscape, when weariness seemed to weigh down on his taller frame in a way that threatened to sink him down past the surface of waters surrounding the gorge. Obligations meant there were tasks that needed to be done despite what the heart or mind might plead; there were few who understood the meaning of words like that more than Jing Yuan did.

For this then, to interject in a fight between new souls of his old friends lost to the ravages of time, was it really a necessary pain for the other?

"You don't need to involve yourself in this." Wounds would scab over and scar with time, but wounds that were picked at would only fester and deepen.

[resiotcage]

Prompt answer originally posted on Twitter Aug 20, 2022.

Recipient: @khunviolegrace

Summary: Bam finds great comfort in Khun's scent.

Bam shut the door and covered his mouth when he yawned despite no one else being in the room. He started getting ready for bed with only the sound of his breathing and clothes ruffling.

Usually, Khun would be here with him, but he was away for a meeting on the other side of the floor and had told Bam he would probably return in the morning so he shouldn't wait up.

It was fine, it was just one night anyway. He'd dealt with lonelier nights than this.

With a forlorn sigh, Bam shuffled across the room and dropped his day's clothes in the hamper. As the clothes his the bottom, a gust of Khun's scent slammed into Bam, and it stunned him for a moment.

Bam stood there dumbly, his tired mind trying to draw the pros and cons for what he wanted to on sand being lapped at by a sea of sleepiness. It was a fruitless endeavor, so against his better judgment, he reached in, pushed his clothes aside, and pulled out one of Khun's shirts.

He brought it to his face, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply through his nose. There light traces of Khun's cologne; notes of wood, citrus, and spice.

He pulled it away, turned it around, and buried his face in it again. The scent of Khun's natural musk and sweat was much stronger on the back. Bam couldn't help letting out a pleased groan that rumbled deep in his chest after taking in another big whiff.

The tension sloughed off his shoulders and limbs as he felt wrapped in that familiar scent of safety. It warmed his insides to a pleasant tingle and made his heart feel full to the brim.

With his mind perfectly blank of everything unnecessary, he ambled to the bed and flopped over. His body curled up around the shirt and clung to its comfort. He fell asleep in minutes.

In the morning, Khun gave a tentative tug on the sleeve of his wrinkled shirt and was sure heard Bam growl in response.

"Bam," he whispered as he leaned closer. "Wake up, Bam."

Slowly, Bam unraveled from his protective ball, stretching his legs out and then his arms with a loud yawn. Khun took advantage of that moment to pull his shirt free.

"G'morning, Khun-ssi." Bam languidly smiled, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep.

Khun chuckled at him. "Good morning, sleeping beauty. Sleep well?" He slung the shirt over his shoulder and cocked his head.

Bam nodded slowly as stifled another yawn until he suddenly shot upright on the bed with a gasp. "Oh! I'm sorry! I, uhh—your shirt—I was just—"

"It's fine, Bam," laughed Khun. "I'm sorry you had to use a replacement instead of the real thing last night."

Bam's face was hot with embarrassment and his brows creased his forehead with worry anyway.

Khun dropped his hand on Bam's head, ruffling gently before stroking his thumb across his cheek and cupping his chin to meet his eyes. He leaned in close enough to feel the heat of Bam's exhale.

"Whatever you need from me, Bam, you can take whenever you want." Khun leaned in to touch their foreheads together, barely a second and much too short, before he let go and moved away.

Blank blinked, stupefied by what just happened.

"I'm gonna go shower. See you downstairs for breakfast?" Khun paused on the doorway as he stared at Bam, waiting for an answer.

A grin slowly spread on Bam's face as he felt the familiar warmth of Khun's precense sink back into him. "Okay!"

[elequinoa-world]

Saw The LA Little Mermaid tonight and here are my thoughts:

non spoilery tldr; scenes under the sea bad, above the sea really great, halle bailey is freaking amazing and relationship with prince eric top tier chef’s kiss

overall had a fun time especially in second half when she’s human

Full uncohesive thoughts under the cut:

Cons

the underwater scenes were so dark and lacked severe colors, fun, life. all the underwater world looked too realistic and bare compared to the cartoon version, especially showed during the under the sea segment, it was so lackluster compared to the original... they could have made a real world with lots of colors and fun patterns but no, they went realistic and it’s very meh i hated all of it

the original songs are so much better than the LA ones BUT i saw the movie in french dub because my mom doesnt speak english so i’m pretty sure the english versions are at least better than that (but in french they lacked so much soul and RYTHM omg sebastian where is your groove?? and ariel’s VA was so bad i didnt like it, and Eric’s new song was so freaking weird because Jonah was out here pouring his soul into the acting and the french VA did not match that energy lol it was very cringe, same for the eureka rap son wtf was that)(i wanna point out that french dubs are usually very good so im very disapointed with this one, they did not get the right tones accross)

ursula’s introduction. W.T.F. you know how the basic of writing is show don’t tell? well they went the exact opposite direction with her and she gets not one but TWO monologues where she explains her villainous thoughts so you know exactly why she’s the vilain and how she’s gonna villain in her next course of villainous actions BRRR so bad

ariel’s sisters were underused they barely had like one line each, why even put them in the movie?? simone ashley you were robbed she didn’t even get one closeup in the final scene smh they should have done more with at least ONE of them (indira cough cough) so we could explore more of ariel’s connection to the underwater world? one of the sister could have helped instead of sebstian/eureka? idk the sisters are important characters in the original tale, they could have done something with that...

Vanessa was also less of an impact compared to the cartoon but I don’t know if that’s bad or good... It makes the ending a bit rushed imo, less heart-breaking than I remember, but it also removed the dumb idea that Eric would genuinely marry her lol so idk

Ariel only got ONE dress i’m so mad (no, the last one doesnt count it’s just a RECOLOR im so pissed)  THEY DIDNT EVEN SHOW THE SCENE WHERE SHE WALKS OUT OF THE WATER WITH HER REAL LEGS I WAS SO WAITING FOR IT i need to calm down but i’m definitely mourning the silver dress, the pink dress, the blue dress, the pajamas, the wedding dress.... GIVE ME BETTER COSTUMING FFS

they cut the cook’s song to add others and i’m not sure i agree with that decision. You know which scene would have used a song? The one where Ariel and Eric dance in the market. This should have been a fun song. *shrugs*

they need to stop with the bad CGI. they could have gone with practical effects on so many things and it would have improved the movie so much more. Ariel’s hair was the worst, it moved so unnaturally at times it really took me off. (while when she’s on land it’s so cute)

Pros

Halle Bailey.

She’s amazing and even if the french VA didn’t do so good Halle’s performance still shone and she was really really great i really mean it. She’s gorgeous, has the right emotions, she made Ariel much more likeable. I always thought of cartoon Ariel as a bit of an unlikeable brat with teenage angst, but Halle turned her into a real character and it felt more genuine that Ariel really wanted to be part of that world (wink wink) She felt more in power, with an actual personality, like the movie was really hers. They did change the final scene and have Ariel kill Ursula alone which makes more sense and satisfying BUT i’ve always liked about the cartoon that Eric and Ariel defeated her together so I would have liked him to be a bit more present during the final fight, making it longer and have more impact too. Cause it was really short. Plus they have amazing chemsitry so it would have been good.

Eric. Their relationship. They fleshed him out more and they did it well. I love that they’re kindred spirits, the way they talked all night was so good, you really felt the connection and it was so cute. Really well done. I was really sold on their relationship. All their scenes together, I wanted more more more <3

The kiss the girl scene was so so nice, the way she made him find out her name??? the cutest shit ever, felt so genuine and cute, and you could feel the tension and L O V E blooming YESSSS

Ariel’s new song when she’s on land was a nice addition (better in english i’m guessing)

Eric’s kingdom, all the land scenes, the colorful market, it felt so alive and fleshed out compared to the underwater!! I loved the castle, the palm trees, Eric’s room, loved it.

The Queen was a nice addition to balance Eric. Grimsby was the best wingman. Good doggo Max, loved that Ariel saved him too.

I don’t care much for Triton, he was as he was in the cartoon I guess. Not less, not more. I don’t understand why they made Ursula his sister if they did nothing with it. Meh. Also they did not use the weird worm thingy transformation so when he “died” and came back it was a bit lackluster too. With the “soul corruption” of the wormies we had a better visual outlet for what was happening I believe. Here it felt too hollywoodian to have him come back like that. Or at least have Ariel bring him back if you’re gonna use the trident to do so??

Ursula, once her BAD introduction scenes passed was nice, her song was the best I thought... (remember, in french) good performance if not as good as the cartoon one that is immaculate so hard to top that

Ursula’s lair was MUCH better than the rest of the underwater. They had moe fun with it and it showed. Lights, danger, spooky, some creativeness finnally!!!

I liked the use of a scale from her fishtail to seal the deal, a nice change. Made more sense. Liked also how they emphasized why she stole her voice (siren’s powers, but also metaphorically, a nice touch)

Flounder was cute don’t listen to the haters

Eureka was also fun and less annoying than cartoon version

Sebastian was... Sebastian but without the original flair. (rip Henri Salvador) though i’ll admit he’s probably the one that made me laugh the most

overall, when they tried to replicate the original cartoons scenes it felt lackluster compared to it, but when they went off-book with the new land scenes it was amazing, they should have gone more off-script, this movie would have benefitted from it, they had the right actors to do so. (and i really wanted more scenes on land, and i want to know the lore of this kingdom and who are Eric’s parents??, more of the queen, the king, how is the relationship between the two worlds going to evolve?? this is a huge freaking deal, expand on it please!!)

so long story short, right actors, wrong creative decisions, fun movie overall, adds more character, but could have done. SO. MUCH. more. Disney has the budget for it, be bold ffs and bring back the COSTUMES o m g they gave their all with cinderella and gave up after that smh i blame you emma watson we could have it all

[mellonhead58]

Spoilers for Batman: Caped Crusader

I feel like half the time this show does something cool and creative and interesting it insists upon shooting itself in the foot. Usually only shooting itself in the foot with a paintball gun so the pros still outweigh the cons but enough that I have to ask "why did you do that? Why are you still doing that?"

The Penguin is now the matriarch of an adoptive crime family who is also the lounge singer for her own nightclub: Fresh! Intriguing! Opportunity for fun villain dynamics!

The penguin murders her two "children" before the climax of the episode. Also GCPDHQ is destroyed and nobody acknowledges it for the rest of the show.

Clayface is a phantom of the opera type slasher instead of just a big shapeshifting bastard: Mysterious! Theatrical!

Montoya has a well-lit wall of 57 sharp implements behind her and she insists on untying the actress by hand when time is of the essence.

Harley Quinn is a commie (who inexplicably lives in a mansion with her own butler but let's suspend our disbelief for forty five seconds) who seeks rich men as clients, abducts them, psychologically tortures them, and forces them to give up their wealth. Also she has a hyperfixation on Batman who she's trying to capture and psychoanalyze. Psychiatry is fun! She's more than a side piece!

She captures Batman and inexplicably decides that her next course of action will be to set off the goddamn high explosives she has planted all over the property to sink it into the sea.

Flass and Bullock become a dynamic duo of police brutality, sticking by each other at every turn as long as they get to murder people they set up and look good doing it. Exciting! Topical!

Bullock is removed from his position of being an asshole who doesn't like batman but still gives a shit about the law to just being a normal crooked cop

This is what happens when you let JJ Abrams produce your show.

Additional good things the show did that I don't think had good corresponding dumb things:

Catwoman in a cocktail dress and cat themed car is 11/10

pulling a THE Suicide Squad and pulling up old villains to breathe new meaning into them is always appreciated, especially when it involves reenacting the building fire scene from Batman Year One

Generally just the whole art deco retro setting of the world

Also generally just the fact that Batman is Batman but Bruce Wayne is the horniest drunkest least responsible most impulsive himbo scumfuck on the planet and also insists on wearing eyeliner on a daily basis

I suppose that last one has the dumb addition of Harvey Dent being outright crooked and the fact the people routinely call Alfred "Pennyworth" which is just plain rude.

[selfmadebd]

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[noparg]

Fractalis - Review

Fractalis is a surprisingly entertaining game in the sea of shovelware that is Steam. Despite not being a charmer due to its looks, it has some really good ideas that could work once polished. At the moment, definitely more love has been put into it than into many other games and shows great promise.

There really isn’t much of a story in Fractalis; a group named the Order of Shadows is attempting to summon demons from the shadow realm and it’s the player’s task to prevent it, though nobody will actually say it, only the loading screen. After defeating the monster summoned by the Order, the objective switches instead to cutting the link between the shadow world and the normal one.

The graphics in Fractalis are also curious to say the least. Everything featured in it looks aged, with characters that could’ve come out of an Atari game. The areas also have strange colors and shading, which change depending on the condition of the world. Despite that, its graphics are surprisingly charming and nostalgic, obviously on purpose. There is also a huge enemy variety, more than would be expected from such a game. Even inside a single type of enemy, differences can be found.

Another surprise to come out of this game is the quite good soundtrack. It features several tracks that play in succession but without feeling out of place. The SFX are also good and interestingly enough, all open source.

Even Fractalis’ gameplay is strange; as a turn based RPG it includes all the expected mechanics of the genre, with some especially reminiscent of the mystery dungeon series. Despite these usual characteristics, Fractalis is really innovative, attempting to implement several unique mechanics.

For example, as the player uses a weapon more and more, they become more proficient with it, dealing more damage. While this means a single weapon can be used during the whole game, it also discourages trying out new weapons. Later on this actually locks the player out of other types of weapon, due to them requiring levels of proficiency in that branch to use them effectively. The system is interesting and could really work, but is very rough at the moment, with bigger cons than pros.

Another unique mechanic is the inventory management. Due to the space limit, players must consider what to or not to carry, but it can be worked around thanks to the ability to stack items. This can be done whenever an item has the same name as another, regardless of its stats. By doing this, players obtain an inventory inside the inventory, allowing for more storage.

A problem that can be found with how equipment is handled in Fractalis, besides the previously mentioned specialization, is how everything has several numbers that appear meaningless. This also happens with the stats that can be selected upon level up. On every item there are two numbers, which most likely symbolize a range of possible stats, but these make no sense or are ever explained. Most of the characters-building boils down to equipping anything with bigger numbers than the previous item.

Directly related to what has already been mentioned, the combat is pretty simple. While it can be made more complex by using magic or ranged weapons, it is not necessary at all; sticking with a type of weapon through the whole game is just as effective. If the player chooses to do so while still leveling up by slaying monsters, they will easily be able to kill anything in a few hits.

Fractalis includes several difficulty modes, which definitely live up to their name, at least at the start of the game. Once the player has leveled up a weapon and themselves enough, most difficulty is gone, though this doesn’t mean the game loses all fun. Thanks to the effort required to obtain power, it is quite satisfying to use it, unlike many other games where the player stays at the same power level all along.

Conclusion

Fractalis is a really good game despite what it may look like. At the moment it offers about 3 or 4 hours of gameplay, with updates coming at a steady pace adding more content. Even with what is already in the game, it stands out over other games of its price range and is definitely recommendable.

Personal Opinion

“I went into Fractalis without expecting much out of it and was surprised when I found a neat little game. It has a really good base which I hope to see expanded, hopefully with even more content added. The time I spent playing Fractalis didn’t feel like a drag at all, quite the opposite, as mentioned in the preview, it just feels good to play it.”

[spookman404]

The Last First Day NaNoWriMo C2 11/5/22

When I pulled into the parking lot for my first day of senior year, I didn’t get out, not immediately. I didn’t want to jump the gun like everyone else and get stuck cramming myself through the front doors. Instead, I parked my car at the back of the lot and let the engine run, warming my hands with the heat leaking from my truck’s less than impressive AC vents. I tried to sink as low as I could in my seat so I could people-watch in peace, only poking my eyes up high enough to see just over the top of my steering wheel.

I had a clear view of the front of the school. It was nothing special, but my peers would disagree. Droves of students stood out in the snow. They talked, joked, and shivered together, slowly filtering through the double doors and into the old brick building we called home, some more reluctantly than others. Eventually, when the crowd got thin and the clock ticked dangerously close to eight am, I finally decided to bite the bullet and start my last first day at Autrain High.

The crowd’s didn’t go away, they just filtered into the halls. As I weaved my way through the sea of claustrophobic bodies I couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was so worried about making a good first impression, especially when it came to the other seniors. It wasn’t like it mattered, it was our last year, it was a little late to be making a first impression. With our town being as small as it was, everyone knew everyone already, a new haircut, new clothes, or a new personality, wasn’t going to fool anyone. 

Rodney was still a raging alcoholic just like his dad was, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had a drop since sophomore year, Madison was still the overweight kid the other girls would rag on to make themselves feel better, they didn’t care that she’d dropped fifty pounds over the summer by obsessively skipping meals, and despite how hard he tried to get everyone to forget, Brandon was still a creep for going after other people in his youth group.

I could go on but I won’t. I don’t want to make it sound like my hometown was nothing but a bunch of depressing cases. It wasn’t. There were a lot of good people, it’s just that most of them don’t stay that way. It’s only natural. People eat eachother alive whenever there’s nothing else to do. Everyone wants a turn at being the big fish in the small pond.

The point is, people change, for better or for worse, and over the years I’ve learned the best way to avoid getting caught up in the drama that comes with it, is to not get involved. I kept my head down, and kept my friends close. Unfortunately that meant I had become a bit of a ghost myself. No one ever really looked my way or went out of their way to talk to me. Nobody really saw me when I sat at the back of the class or clung to the walls. I didn’t even eat lunch in the cafeteria. By all intents and purposes, I was invisible. 

It had its pros and cons. On one hand people didn’t hate me, they had no reason to. I’ve managed to dodge every bullet that came my way over the years and make it all the way through highschool without so much as a rumor to my name. I never did any extracurriculars, never tried to branch out further than my comfort zone would allow, and the closest I’ve had to hanging out with my classmates were during group projects.

On the other hand though, I’m the guy people forget. The guy most people will jump at when they see my picture in the yearbook twenty five years from now. It really isn’t so bad until you realize you’re standing alone, holding a tray of shitty food from the lunchline, and have no one to gag over it with. That’s when it gets you, when you realize you're in a room crowded with people you’ve known since they were eight, and none of them know your name.

Some people though, a few, did remember me. I just wish it could’ve been anyone other than Jeremy Ringer.

He greeted me with a shoulder check and that wicked smile he flashes at everyone else. He said something too, something along the lines of a half hearted ‘oops’ or ‘sorry’. I can’t really remember. I’m used to ignoring him. I did catch one thing though as my milk splattered to the ground. 

“Watch where you’re going.” He jeered, cutting the lunch line with his band of brothers.

“Wasn’t going anywhere.” I mumbled to myself.

By the time I picked up my milk it had already emptied out onto the tile, but it was nothing to cry over. Despite what the words said on the side of the carton, I doubted whatever it claimed was inside actually came from a cow. Regardless, I was left with a handful of soggy cardboard and not a trashcan in sight. The janitor must’ve been new because I couldn’t find one anywhere. Since I wasn’t planning on sitting in the lunchroom anyway though, I took the liberty of roaming around the halls until I found one. It took a while, but eventually I spotted a lone overflowing trash can sitting by the school's side doors at the other end of the corridor.

I crumpled the carton in my hand, instantly regretting my actions as milk dribbled from my palm, and walked my way over to it, glancing down the halls as I passed them by.

Empty. Empty. Band kid’s being weird. A couple breeding in the hallway. Empty.

Then I stopped.

Oh shit.

I ducked back behind the wall. Down the last hallway, sat on the floor in a bundle of faded flannel and shredded jeans, was Mason Graves. 

I felt a little more milk dribble down my arm and swore under my breath. I’d squeezed the carton again in my panic, but I wasn’t worried about that. I was much more concerned with whether or not Mason had seen me.

Mason was the type of kid no one wanted to mess with. People have tried and failed over the years, but most of them regretted it. Once a particularly cocky kid, Patrick I think his name was, tried to trip him down a flight of stairs. People pointed and laughed as Mason quietly picked himself off the ground. He didn’t push back, he didn’t fight, he waited. That same kid missed school for a couple days, and came back with three missing teeth and a black eye. He never looked Mason's way again.

Mason was an enigma, someone that defied every law that governed this town and the people in it. He didn’t care if people talked about him, he preferred it. The more they talked the less they bothered him. He was the kid with the dead dad that people knew to stay clear of, but building up that kind of reputation over the years came with a few consequences. 

Over the years he became the school’s scapegoat. Someone's car got keyed during the hockey game? Mason. Someone tagged the gym in the middle of the night? Mason. One of the shitty old cabins in the woods burned down over the weekend? Probably Mason. 

The problem was, nobody could prove anything. You’d think someone like him would’ve had a rap sheet as long as his arm and a room reserved at the nearest juvenile detention center, but he didn’t. He was clean; Squeaky fucking clean. That’s why people were scared of him. Everyone knew he did all those things. Who else would it be? But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t prove it.

I don’t really blame him. If anything I almost sympathized. After all that he’s been through, growing up the majority of his life without a dad, if he really was the one lashing out, I could see why. We were a lot alike now that I mention it. We both kept to ourselves, albeit for very different reasons. We were still fundamentally different though. If I was the school's ghost, Mason was its monster.

I wiped my arm on my pants. I would’ve used my coat but I wore my favorite today. Once I was dry and I realized I had been hiding for well over a minute or two, I gathered up enough courage to peek around the corner.

When I did I nearly backed out again. He was standing up, and for a second I even thought he spotted me, but he didn’t. He was looking for someone. I watched him from the end of the hall as he looked up and down the corridor, making myself small any time his eyes came my way. Then, a knock echoed out through the empty hall and I realized something. He wasn’t looking for someone, he was looking out for someone.

Turns out, that someone just so happened to be my library buddy Ginger Prescott.

As the door creaked open, Mason gave his surroundings one last glance, and nodded when he decided the coast was clear. When she stepped out, he greeted Ginger with a smile and open arms. I couldn’t decide what was stranger, the fact that those two were friends, or that I was seeing them together at all.

Ginger pulled away and got right down to business. They exchanged a few hushed words, but try as I might, I only caught a few of the more passionate parts. Words like ‘when’, ‘where’, and ‘who’ were tossed around, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of anything, not until their conversation came to a close and I heard Mason ask, “So, did you get it?”

Ginger didn’t respond. Not verbally at least. With a grin she slung her bag off one of her shoulders and unzipped it, burying her arm inside in search of something. I ducked a little as Mason one final cursory look, but relaxed when his attention settled back on Ginger.

“Here it is.”

She handed him the copy of Moby Dick, the one she picked out from the library, and Mason stuffed it in his drawstring. He patted her on the shoulder and said something that sounded like a goodbye, so I took the hint. As I heard the two of them come walking down the hall, I did the same, trying not to look their way as I made my way over to the trash can. I could hear the clack of Ginger’s heels drawing further and further behind me as I tossed the milk carton, but the second I reached to open the side door, they stopped. 

I froze in place, my eyes locking on the snow falling just outside. All I had to do was walk out without a second thought. Sure, I looked a little suspicious living in weather like this, but If Ginger knows anything, and she knows everything, she’d know that I do that all the time. I didn’t move though, I couldn’t, because all I could focus on was her reflection in the glass of the door, staring daggers at me from down the hall.

I don’t know if it was the fear or the adrenaline that snapped me out of it but something did, and I pushed my way through the doors, taking my first few steps out into the snow. I tried to get out of the line of sight from the doors as soon as possible, so I held my tray with both hands and made my way down the short flight of icy stairs. When I miraculously made it to the landing without falling to my death, I felt my heart warm a little as I saw the picnic table. My picnic table.

It was a depressing looking thing, held together by loose nails and gnarled wood. It sat under a small metal roof that managed only to shield half of it from the snow. It was old, it was ratty, and it was defaced by decades of students with nothing better to do, but it was still there. I was sure it wasn’t going to be. Over the week leading up to school starting I managed to convince myself they’d thrown it out over the summer. I figured the years of being left out in the snow would’ve finally caught up with it, but it hadn’t. Thank god, at least one good thing came out of my first day. I don’t know why I let myself get so worked up about it. I walked through the same routine every year. It was almost like a tradition. On the first day of classes, I’d come out here and expect my table to be gone, but it never left. It was my second favorite part of the first day of classes. I spotted my favorite, stepping out of the snow dusted woods in nothing more than a hoodie and jeans.

“Kate!” I exclaimed, feeling my leftover nerves melt away.

“Hey!” She replied, sounding just about as excited as I was.

I set my tray down on the table, I didn’t care about it going cold, it probably already was anyway. I trudged out into the snow and met her half way through the clearing. I pulled her into a bear hug and immediately regretted it. She sucked the heat out of me and I swore, “Jesus, you’re freezing.”

She pulled away and apologized, “Sorry. The walk took a little longer than usual.”

As I walked her over to the table I asked, “Do you wanna head inside? Maybe warm up a little over lunch before you have to walk back.”

“Nope, I’m good. I’m used to the cold.”

She sat down at the table across from my tray in the same spot she always sat in, right at the end of the bench at the driest corner of the table.

“Are you sure?” I asked, sitting across from her, “It’s really no big deal. I’m sure nobody would care if I snuck you in.”

“No, I’m good, really. Thank you though.”

We go through that same little routine every time we meet for lunch. Every day I meet her in the middle, I freeze up when I hug her, I try to bring her inside, and she turns me down. Every time. She never told me why she didn’t want to set foot inside, but I didn’t really blame her, most days I didn’t want to either. It could’ve been a number of things, but I think most of what’s keeping her away is the possibility of running into anyone who remembered her, or worse crossing paths with Ginger. Regardless, I knew she was never going to take me up on my offer, but still, I asked her every day. I’d feel rude if I didn’t.

When we both settled into our seats, Kate didn’t linger any longer on pleasantries. She got right to the point.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

I did my best, but there wasn’t really much to tell. She arrived halfway through the first day, not much of anything happens until at least the end of the first week. She knew that, but she didn’t care. I think it was just an excuse to get me to talk, so I did. I told her about how I missed my first two alarms and had to skip breakfast. She wasn’t surprised. I mentioned that my Truck’s AC was dying again. She expected as much. I told her about how everyone was dressed to the nines and I cracked a joke that I settled for a decent seven. She laughed. I didn’t deserve it. Good times. Kate’s the kind of friend you can bump into after not seeing her for years and she’ll pick up right where you left off. The kind of friend you never want to lose.

We talked back and forth like that for a while, catching each other up on our summers. Her’s was much more entertaining than mine. When she isn’t homeschooling, her family takes her roadtripping. They all pile into an RV and drive around the country from may to august. She’s been from coast to coast more times than I’ve been out of state. Now, don’t get me wrong, it sounds amazing, and I am happy for her, but I kinda wish she skipped a year. She was my only real friend, which meant for about as long as I can remember, summer was just one long buffer between saying goodbye and seeing her again. Nothing really happened in between. It’s a brutal double edged sword, but I guess it does make our lunches just a little more special.

As the lunch period came to a close and I started to freeze to my seat, Kate asked the question I knew she’d been working up to for the past half hour.

“So, are you gonna go?”

“Go where?” I asked, taking the last bite of my PB&J.

“The senior bonfire. It’s this Friday.”

I knew she only brought it up because she liked living vicariously through me. She was always more into that sort of stuff than I was, school spirit and all that. For the short time she did spend in highschool she loved it, diving into anything that so much as remotely caught her interest. She somehow managed to balance debate club, writing for the school paper, and playing for the soccer team, all with a full course load. She was the most talented person I knew, and the only person who was just as interested in hearing me ramble on about the town’s ghost stories as I was, which is why when I shot down going to bonfire night, I knew exactly what she was going to say next.

“You know it’s being held in Hunt Woods right? Like the Hunt Woods.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware.” I replied, “The Hunt Woods.”

“So why aren’t you going?”

“Well, for one, I’ve been there before. Multiple times.”

“So?”

“So it’s not like I’d be missing anything.”

“You absolutely will be missing something. It’s your senior year. You don’t get another one. It’s missing stuff like this that you're gonna regret later on in life.”

“What? A bunch of drunken idiots standing around a fire for a couple hours? Maybe some douchebag with a guitar if I’m lucky? I don’t think I’ll be too hung up over it.”

“Come on.” She urged, “It’s one of your favorite spots. You used to go there all the time to try to catch the Hermit.”

It was a cheap shot, but I figured she’d take it. She knew I was a sucker for those woods. The Hermit of Hunt Woods was one of the few stories that I couldn’t debunk with the papers. There were just too many holes, inconsistencies in the details like the fact that while the murders happened only minutes apart, the bodies were found miles away from each other. Or the little detail that the murder weapon was never found, even thought the murderer himself confessed to where he hid it in his suicide note. Oh yeah, and the smoking gun. You can still hear the distant sound of a rope swaying in the wind somewhere off in the woods late at night, I know that for sure. I’ve heard it myself.

Still, I wasn’t sold.

“The Hermit isn’t just going to show up with that many kids around. I would’ve seen him already if he was that brave.”

“Who knows, maybe that's exactly what he needs?” She suggested, “He was a mass murderer after all.”

“Yeah barely.” I scoffed, “It was four people.”

“Chicken.” She teased.

“You make it sound like I actually believe in ghosts.” I argued.

“Yeah, it’s because you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Yes. You do.”

In an attempt to stop myself from arguing in circles, I reminded her, “I’ve never seen anything. Nothing big enough to convince me otherwise at least. Neither of us have. Until that changes I will continue to firmly label myself as a skeptic.”

She smirked, “But you still believe enough to try, don’t you?”

I sucked in another cold breath to argue, but I let it back out. She got me.

“You were always the one who believed in ghosts, Kate, not me.” I concluded.

I didn’t intend for what I said to come off as mean or cold, but I think that’s what she interpreted it as. Her eyes drooped and started to run her fingers across the back of her hand. She always did that when something bothered her.

I checked my phone and saw that we barely had a minute left.

“So you’re really not going?” She asked one last time.

“I guess not.” I mumbled.

The bell rang, cutting our conversation short, but neither of us got up. We weren’t finished yet. As kids began to flood through the halls inside, I admitted, “It’d be different if you were there.”

I could tell she didn’t like the idea, but before she could shoot it down, I followed up, “I don’t particularly like the idea of standing around and watching everyone else have fun. If you showed up though, it doesn’t sound that bad. I can’t remember the last time we’ve sat around a campfire.”

Slowly I saw her start to warm up to the idea. She still didn’t give me a direct answer, but I didn’t need one.

She shrugged, “If that’s what it takes, who knows, maybe I’ll stop by.”

I caught the smallest hint of a smirk on her face, and just like that, she had me.

“Then I’ll be there.”

[deandrejackson]

Sea freight from Hong Kong

What is Sea freight ?

If you want to ship something from Hong Kong, you can use sea freight, also called ocean freight. Here, we'll explain what it means to ship goods by sea.

Ocean freight, also called "sea freight," is the shipping of goods from one country to another by sea. By far, the most common way to ship goods around the world is by ocean freight. About 90% of the things that move around the world do so by sea. But just because something is popular doesn't mean it's the only or best choice.

Freight forwarders help move things by sea. As a third party, they pick up, sort, and deliver your goods. It's important to remember a few things about this whole process. One of the most important things to do is to read the shipping contract.

For ocean freight shipping, goods are put into shipping containers, and the freight forwarder makes a reservation for the container or space with the shipping agent. The shipment moves to the port and goes through customs where it started. Goods are put on the cargo ship in either full containers or shared containers, depending on how much there is.

Advantages of Sea freight from Hong Kong

The most cost-effective way to ship from Hong Kong is by sea cargo. Sea freight is a way to move large amounts of goods using carrier ships. Goods are put into containers, which are then put on a ship. A typical cargo ship can carry about 18,000 containers. This means that sea freight is a cost-effective way to move large amounts of goods over long distances. Every day, a lot of customers ask us whether they should ship from China by sea freight or by air freight. We tell them that sea freight is the best choice if they want to send a large shipment and are looking for the cheapest way to ship. Compared to other methods, this one is cheap. It’s easy to move heavy or big things around. On long distances, it’s cheap, Most Carbon-efficient solution, Fewer regulations, so after reading this article, you can really decide whether to use air freight or sea freight.

Why would you ship from Hong Kong by Sea freight?

If you want to ship a package from Hong Kong to any other country in the world by sea, you should first ask yourself why. Some people think air freight is better than sea freight. But it depends on your situation. Both have their own pros and cons, so it can be hard to figure out which one is best for your business.

Sea freight VS Air freight

When you buy something from Hong Kong or want to ship something from this country to any other country, the first thing you need to think about is how to get it to your door. You can choose between air freight and sea freight. but most customers will be confused about which one to choose. Which one you choose will depend on your needs. If you want service as quickly as possible, air freight is the best choice. If you are trying to keep your costs low, you might not want to use air freight. How you figure out how much sea freight will cost depends on whether you’re shipping LCL (less-than-container load) or FCL (full container load) (full container load).

Unless the actual weight is higher, LCL shipments are usually charged by volumetric weight. As we said above, if your order is bigger than 2 cbm, you will save money by using sea freight instead of air freight.

For FCL shipments, you rent the whole container, and the cost is usually the same no matter how much space is in it. Above a certain size and weight, it’s not cost-effective to pay for a large LCL shipment. Instead, an FCL shipment will save you more money per unit of volume shipped. Freight rates tend to change, and if you work with a shipping partner, they will tell you if your shipment can save money by going LCL or FCL.

Both air freight and sea freight have some advantages that we’ll list here for you.