#this is a problem that's plagued me ever since we first got to use calculators in tests

[purple-is-great]

ugh i hate it when i'm on such a kick doing math (i have a test in two and a half hours, wish me luck!) but then i get frustrated trying to convert decimals into roots

and now i'm scrolling tumblr instead

i know i should be doing these calculations by hand and easily getting the fractions, but it's so much easier to enter them into my calculator, then fuck around and write random roots and fractions of them into it until i get the same endless decimals

[twdbegins]

Having Sex on a Run with Rick

Rick Grimes x Fem! Reader

Request: Hay, I recently became active on your blog; And I love it so much already!? Your work for Rick? 😤 It’s damn fine! We need more for him,,I was wondering if I could get something for Rick where Reader and him are on a run and Reader feels frisky? Lust comes over the two and they make out, getting each other off? Basically they’re having a quickie on a run? Because the adrenaline is pumping if you get my gist... @positive-squid​

Warnings: Smut. Profanity. Sexual content.

Rick could tell that something was off with you.

You weren’t acting badly or mean or anything. 

But you seemed...antsy.

At first, he assumed that you were getting a little stir crazy.

Things in Alexandria had been good for a while, and mostly everyone had been sticking around trying to improve camp.

Even though Alexandria was extensive, he could understand how someone could still feel a bit caged in.

So he suggested that you accompany him on a run.

The two of you were close friends, so he didn’t see any issue with it.

He almost felt bad at how excited you got over it.

Rick figured that the group could always use more resources, so he didn’t feel as if this run was just for killing time.

You were bubbly as you slid into the passenger seat, positively stoked to be getting out for a bit.

Rick knew of a few places that needed to be scouted, so at least the two of you could get a day’s work out of this run.

It started as business as usual.

The two of you chatted as you scrounged for food or whatever else you could possibly use.

“Does Carl still need a pair of bigger boots? I think I just found a pair.”

“Sure, thanks. Do you think that Daryl would use this hairbrush?”

“Very funny.”

It was a pretty textbook run. The two of you chatted while you looked for things, throwing anything and everything even semi-useful into your backpacks.

Not to mention...it was brutally hot.

While it was a bit difficult to really ever truly know what day it was...

It was always unmistakable when summer had come back around.

The days were blistering hot and even the evenings were sticky and warm.

Sweat dripped down your back as you navigated the abandoned building that was somehow trapping more heat that you would’ve anticipated.

You had glanced over at Rick at one point to check on him, when you saw that he was having the same problem.

Sweat beaded around his forehead, some of it sliding down his face and neck.

He glistened in the daylight, his hard work being proven through his perspiration.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

It was the strangest feeling to be so drawn into him.

Sure, you had always found him attractive. It was hard to deny.

But you hadn’t really ever had a chance to just...look at him.

You eyed over his hands and arms as they moved stuff around.

His muscles flexed and relaxed in the most captivating way.

The veins in his hands and forearms were prevalent from both the heat and all the strenuous movement. 

His dark curls were damp with sweat, yet he still looked so clean.

Your sights diverted to his hips, watching the way his legs moved in such a calculated way.

All kinds of dirty thoughts plagued your mind.

The thought of his hands around your throat.

His fingers in your mouth,

His cock buried somewhere deep inside of you.

He looked perfect.

A little too perfect.

It didn’t take him long to catch your stare, a confused smile as a quirked brow appearing on his features.

“Something wrong?”

You snapped out of your trance, embarrassed that he had just caught you staring. 

“Nope!” You had squeaked, “All good here.”

He brushed it off, thinking you were tired from the day’s work.

It wasn’t until you were loading up the vehicle with all of your found resources that he noticed it again.

He noticed the way your eyes followed his every move.

The way you were listening extra closely when he spoke.

Something was on your mind, but he just didn’t expect that he was on your mind.

The two of you climbed into the truck, him in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s seat. 

But he didn’t start the truck.

Instead he looked over at you, catching your bashful gaze.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Rick asked, this time a little more determined to figure it out.

You refused to admit to him that you had been pining over him for the last hour and a half.

Deny, deny, deny.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Rick wasn’t buying it.

He wasn’t buying that at all.

“You know, if something is bothering you, you can tell me. I don’t want you to be unhappy if it’s something I can fix.”

Oh, it was definitely something he could fix alright.

But still, there was no way that you were telling him that.

“I really am fine, Rick. Honestly.”

He still wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to push you.

He started the truck, thinking that he’d get through to you sooner or later.

The ride was quiet, both of you too caught up in your own thoughts to say much of anything. 

You had tried to push your dirty thoughts aside, trying your hardest to control your feelings towards him.

But the way he looked in the late afternoon sun filtering in through the windows, mixed with the way he kept throwing side glances at you...you couldn’t.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, please.”

Rick obliged, worried that something was wrong.

He barely even managed to get the truck in park before you crawled over the center console into his lap.

He didn’t even have time to be stunned, because your lips crashed into his before he could speak.

It surprised you, but Rick didn’t really question it.

He kissed back with the same energy, fiery and passionately desperate.

His hand came to the back of your neck, keeping you close and allowing your lips to hover over his when you pulled back for air.

He could feel the heat pooling between your legs through his pants, and he knew it wasn’t from the summer heat.

“I never knew you felt so strongly about me.” Rick had chuckled, already breathless from the heavy kissing.

He groaned when you dragged your clothed cunt over his thigh while you worked on getting his pants unbuckled.

He caught you in another kiss while you stroked his cock to an erection, his spine shuddering at the feeling of you touching him like this.

You praised yourself for deciding to wear shorts, getting them off with your free hand and with ease.

You knew you had limited space, since you weren’t too keen on doing this outside of the truck.

Not that you minded being in close quarters with Rick.

This was going to be a quick fuck. 

You knew that this was the scratch the itch and the address the tension that had been building for a while.

Rick didn’t seem to mind that.

His fingers dragged through your folds, collecting your arousal as he rubbed the pads of his fingers on your clit.

You moaned at the feeling, the waves of pleasure already beginning and he hadn’t even gotten inside of you yet.

“You were really happy to be with me, huh?” Rick teased, spitting into his hand and lubricating himself just to be sure he didn’t hurt you.

Before you could respond, your hips were lifted by his hands and he slammed you down onto his cock to the point where your hip bones touched his. 

A synchronized moan fell from your and Rick’s mouths, both of your head lulling back in ecstasy.

Rick wasn’t even moving yet and he was already stretching and filling you perfectly.

Suddenly, Rick was taking charge, which only added to your arousal.

He gave you a second to adjust to his size, letting you wriggle in his lap until you found an angle that was comfortable.

His hand tapped the side of your leg, prompting you to start moving.

You rotated between bouncing on his lap and rolling your hips, making sure that the satisfaction went both ways.

It was intoxicatingly perfect.

The way he felt stretching you and hitting every bundle of nerves possible.

The hot kisses and the heavy touches were everything you had ever dreamed of with Rick.

Your bounces were met by his thrusts, hitting your g-spot in the most flawless way.

You knew it wasn’t going to take long to get off. 

This had been building up for far too long for your climax to be drawn out.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Feel so good.” He babbled, cheeks flushed and pupils blown.

His head was reeling, and he wasn’t sure that he was totally comprehending what was happening right now.

All he knew is that he didn’t want this to be the first and only time.

His cock throbbed inside of you, his own release begging to be spilled out into you.

You felt the twitch, and that in and of itself is what caused your orgasm to break out all over you.

You came with a squeaky moan, your entire body tensing up around him as your head fell to his shoulder and your hands gripped the back of the seat.

He thrusted a couple more times before he came as well, his release spurting into you and milking his cock white as he groaned out your name.

Your bodies went limp, chests heaving with heavy breaths and post-coital sighs.

His hand rubbed up and down your back slowly, his cum leaking out of you and onto his bare thighs.

A few minutes of silence passed before you raised your head.

Your dilated eyes met his, and what you saw was pure lust and content.

Most importantly, you could see the anticipation through his eyes, all the way to his soul.

You weren’t sure why, but something in your gut told you that this wouldn’t be the last time that you fucked Rick Grimes.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.4

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

Stolas sat in the family limo, enjoying the smooth rumble of limos engine as he travelled home. Along the way, he felt... at peace.

As though, all the problems that plagued his mind before, had... evaporated.

Stolas ran a hand down his chest, his thighs grinding together as he thought about his time with you.

You were so gentle. So tender and elegant with him. As though he were some delicate piece of art.

But he knew the truth...

You handled him so delicately, because you wanted him to feel loved.

...Because you loved him.

The thought sending a whole new wave of warmth threw him.

So focused on the events that just transpired was he, he didn't even notice his arrival home.

He walked through the building blissfully unawares of all around him, almost in a drunken state.

Entering his chambers he found the bed made and empty.

Of course it was, Stella hadn't shared there bed since Blitzø fell into Stella's brunch.

He'd once found it all so charming. Blitzø's brash, rough and tumble attitude had once made him swoon.

But now when he thought about being with Blitzø, he just felt like an idiot for having thought there relationship was anything beyond a business transaction.

But now he had you. And you were all he needed now.

He fell onto his bed, not bothering with the covers. Content to just lay there and bask in the light you brought to his life.

But those tears he shed had took a toll on him, and as much as he wished to bask in this warmth he could feel sleep taking him and with one more happy thought of you, he allowed sleep take him.

He awoke early the morning, and despite being bathed in the light of Hell's crimson sun.

He felt cold.

As though all the warmth youd given him yesterday had simply vanished.

He sat up, sluggishily removing the covers went about preparing for his day of... nothing.

Stella hadn't allowed him anywhere near his usual meeting or appointments, not since- well you know what happened.

Perhaps he'd try and talk to his beloved Octavia. If she was feeling hospitable.

Hmmm. Perhaps not. He should probably just give her some space.

Besides he realised an even more important thing he could do with his morning.

Learning everything he could about You.

Turning over, he found his phone. Looking through his contacts.

He found your name, going into your contact he considered messaging you, but decided against it. He didn't want to bother you so early in the morning.

Instead he pulled up Voxtigram, his main form of communication, before typing in your name.

But he couldn't find you.

So he checked Blitzø's friend list, he eventually found you, it turns out you just had your name backwards, something that made him chuckle.

Seeing pictures of Blitzø sent pangs of sadness through his chest, but he soldiered on.

Scrolling through your pictures, he didn't find much.

Alot of them were just pictures of the places you'd been, or one of the weapons you used on the job.

He eventually did find some of you.

The first he found was you and the two other Imps that worked there, Millie and Moxxie he was pretty sure were there names.

The next was you on your first day at work.

It was a selfie of you in a group hug with Blitzø and the others.

You were all clearly being forced by Blitzø.

The awkward little smile you wore sent a wave of warmth through him.

Scrolling further down, he found more pictures of you. Most of them were just you relaxing at a variety of places, or after after getting a new outfit. Just general stuff about your life in hell.

Then he found one that made his heart skip a beat.

It was a picture of you. Wearing just a pair of shorts at the gym.

You were pulling a little pose, flexing your muscles in front of a mirror, a shy little blush across your cheeks.

Stolas' swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry.

He rubbed his thighs together as he fantasised about licking the sweat off your abs.

With a shake to his head, he decided now was a good time to get out of bed.

Leaving his phone as he went and took a nice long shower.

A nice long, cold shower.

Getting out, he chose a more casual outfit.

An old T-shirt and some jeans he reserved for comfy home clothes. He didn't have anywhere to be.

He made his way to the kitchen, where he found Octavia sitting at the table.

The more calculating part of his brain told him to just leave her alone, but he decided against it. He shouldn't hide from his daughter, she needed to know he was still there for her 'Hello darling, how did you sleep.' He asked pleasantly.

Octavia looked up at him, her eyes looking cold and annoyed. So, not all to different from her usual teenage gaze.

'I slept fine dad.' She sai, her voice dull and lifless, before looking back down at her phone.

Stolas swelled with joy.

His daughter was speaking to him again. Everything seemed seemed to be getting better for him.

Pouring himself a bowl of serial, he took a rather lecherous lstroll down memory lane, Thinking about his time with you.

He didn't know how long he'd been thinking about you, but he was quickly pulled out of it when he felt something hit him on the back.

The clanging of cutlery that followed soon after gave him a good idea of what it was.

Turning around he found a rather angry teenage owl glaring at him.

Before he could ask what was wrong. The owlet released a frustrated growl. 'Can you just not?' She asked rhetorically.

Running down her face she told him 'I have do deal with you and Mums B.S. all the time, can you just not fantasise about your fuckin Blitzy~ in front of me.'

She fell back into her seat with a huff.

Stolas was a little shocked. He hadn't thought his beloved daughter could be so course.

'I-I... I didn't realise I was being so bothersome.' He said, sounding perhaps a bit to wounded.

Octavia sighed, 'Can you just not in the kitchen. Where we eat, please?' She asked, going back to her breakfast.

Stolas sighed, picking up his now soggy bowl of serial. 'How long had I been in that state?' He asked himself.

'Five minutes' answered Octavia not looking up from her phone.

'Oh' he said to himself, taking the bowl he poured it into the trash. 'Well that's disgusting.'

He chuckled to himself. Looking over his shoulder he said 'Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear you won't be hearing much about Blitzø... ever again.' He told her being perhaps a little vitriolic.

Getting a cup from the cupboard, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Walking over to Octavia he went to take a seat, but stopped upon seeing her distrustful gaze.

Taking a seat he sighed. 'Octavia, darling... I know these past few weeks haven't been easy on you. And I know much of that-" He had to stop as Octavia glared daggers at him. "...All of it, was my fault. But I promise, things will get better... for both of us.' He took her hand into his own. 'I promise.'

Octavia looked up at him, she looked so startled by his words.

It seemed like she was gonna say something, dew drops forming in the corners of her eyes.

He was about to say something when Octavia shot up and ran away.

Stolas sat there. For a long while. His conversation running over in his mind.

Taking a drink from his coffee he stood up, put his cup in the sink and left.

He found himself in his garden, perhaps the last place he still felt at home on the palace grounds.

Trying to calm himself down went about his usual grooming routine.

Trimming bushes, feeding his plants, pulling weeds and just general plant care.

And as much as his plants soothed his nerves,, he could feel his mood shifting.

The depression beganing to invade his thoughts.

He felt himself become that miserable husk that got shoved out of Blitzøs office.

He clutched his head, hunching over on the brink of tears. His thoughts became like daggers, stabbing into his thoughts.

But before he could shed a tear, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he found it was a call from you.

In something of a surprised stupor, he answered the call. He tried to clear the emotion from his voice before saying 'Hello?'

'Stolas? Are you okay? You sound upset.' You asked him, concern in your voice.

'(Y/N)?! I... I'm...' he was going to tell you some fluff story, pretending he was fine and probably throwing a few lewd innuendos I'm there.

But, he choked... He just couldn't.

'No... No I'm not okay.' He told you, on the brink of tears. 'I feel like everything is broken and it's all my fault.'

You took a moment to respond, clearing your throat you said. 'Stolas... why did you sleep with Blitzø?'

Stolas was taken aback, 'P-Pardon?'

You sighed, 'Did you want to hurt your family when you chose to sleep with Blitzø?'

Bringing up it was he who made of decision to sleep with Blitzø, made his self loathing grow like a fire.

'N-No!' He told you 'I would never want to hurt my family...'

'Its alright Stolas, I know you wouldn't want to hurt them... But you slept with him for a reason Stolas, you need to know what it is.'

Stolas wasn't sure how to answer, he didn't really know the answer. He could lie, tell you it was just a spur of the moment decision, but that just wasn't true.

'I-I don't know.' He stated, more then said. 'I don't know why I did it... I just... don't know.'

He sat there for several moments, his mind going into overdrive as he thought over the question.

'Its alright Stolas, I believe you. But you need to figure it out, this is something that will haunt you until you figure it out." You told him, trying your best to be serious.

Stolas wiped his eyes, before asking you, 'why did you call (Y/n)? I... don't remember giving you my number!' He mumbled out, rubbing his eye.

You coughed, clearing your throat, 'Don't worry about that. I actually called you because, well I mean, I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to do something tomorrow?' You asked him, voice thick with bashfulness.

Stolas was really taken aback, 'You... You want to do something... With me?' He asked incredulously.

You chuckled on the other end of the phone. 'If I were there right now, Stolas, I'd probably boop you right on a nose.' You tell him through a smile.

'I'd love to do something!' Stolas practically cheered. You chuckled, before telling him 'Great, Ive already got an idea, but if youd like to do-'

Before you could finish your note, Stolas shouted, 'I'd love Too!'

Stolas quickly calmed down, before clearing his throat, 'Sorry... I mean, I'd love to do whatever you had in mind.' He said, cringing at how desperate he'd sounded.

'Good to hear' You chuckled, 'Well, there's this great wine place I know that makes the best little pizzas, and I, uh, wanted to share it with you.'

Your words sent a wave of ecstasy through his body. You not only wanted to spend time with him but actively sought him out to spend time with him.

You were everything he wished Blitzø was.

And he loved it.

He didn't need Blitzø.

He had you now.

'Of course (Y/N), It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you.' He told you, biting his lip.

He felt like a school girl with her first crush, a youthful giddiness clouded his mind.

'Oh? Well I've got tomorrow off, does that work for you? We can do it another day if your busy.' You told him, concern clear in your voice.

It was Stolas' turn to laugh at the tone in your voice.

'I don't have anything on tomorrow, so I'd love to accompany you to yor wine and pizza place. Nothing would make me happier.' He told you earnestly.

He could hear the smile in your voice, as you told him. 'Well, I'm happy to hear that. I'll send you the address later today, call me if you need any directions... I'll see you then, Stolas.'

'I...' Stolas wanted to tell you how much he loved you, just how much joy you brought him with one simple phone call.

He wanted to tell you, but didn't have the words.

As he tried to manifest the words he needed, he heard say through the phone.

'Its alright Stolas. I look forward to seeing you too.'

You told him simply, Stolas just sighed. How you always knew what he was trying to say.

'I'll see you tomorrow, My Beloved.' he told you before you hung up.

Hearing the tell tale dial tone, looking down at the phone, your image in the caller I.D. bringing a smile to his face.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Kiss Goodnight

Kiss Goodnight

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes

Summary → Y/N lets Bucky in.

Word Count → 2.6k

Warnings → Angst, Self-harm, blood, injury. Lots of fluff in the end.

Beta → the superstar that is @princessmisery666​ // all mistakes are my own.

Dividers → @firefly-graphics​.

A/N → This for @distractedgemini​ challenge - the prompt was Just A Kiss by Lady A. Hope you enjoy! 

Three am. A time for those in hope of finding a slither of peace when sleep prevails, emotions overrule, and thoughts run wild.

Bucky Barnes silently followed the strict lines of the corridors that lined the various quarters of the compound. His thoughts were erratic in comparison to his steady pace. He hoped that each carefully calculated step would subdue his fears, to allow him to sleep without the nightmares creeping in. It didn’t work half of the time, and the other half would usually involve him staring through the eyes of the Winter Soldier, carrying out the horrors he’d been trying to atone for.

Y/N was in the gym, punching the bag with all her strength; nightmares had plagued her sleep and guilt wreaked havoc on her mind. Her sloppy form paired with her overwhelming emotions had her hissing as the skin around her knuckles cracked apart. Regardless of the pain, she continued to pummel the leather as the wrappings turned red with her blood.

Whilst Bucky wandered his way through the main hallway leading to the gym, he heard the slapping of leather, and groans of frustrations. He watched her punch the bag. Y/N. He knew her sloppy form anywhere. But tonight, these punches were full of emotions. He’d offered on many occasions to help but she had continuously declined. 

Sam had joked that it was because she was intimidated by him and his brooding glare. Bucky was certain it wasn’t the reason, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he thought she liked him, or at least tolerated his presence. Over the last few months, he’d noticed her smile shining a little brighter when it was directed at him or her eyes glimmering with happiness as he joined her for coffee in the morning.

The whoosh of the automatic doors opening didn’t pull her attention completely but slowed down her assault. She peered to the right, using her peripheral vision to see who had entered the room. With no further movements heard she turned to come almost nose to nose with Sergeant Barnes. She gulped at the Super Soldier as she realised what a mess, she looked in front of the beautiful specimen before her.

“Sergeant Buc-Barnes. Sir, erm.” She stuttered around her words, breathless from her fight with the bag and the shock of seeing him. She stood to attention, internally scolding herself for her lack of togetherness.

Bucky hadn’t realised he had crowded her space until Y/N turned and looked straight at him. He almost faltered as he took in her appearance; puffy eyes, wild hair and her knuckles blood raw. His mind whirled with uncertainty; he’d invaded her personal space without considering that she might be battling her own demons.

“Bucky. At ease, are you okay?” He internally scolded himself; of course, she’s not! He watched her thoughts cross her features; confusion and, possibly, fear.

Y/N felt herself freezing at his question, she was nowhere near okay and she hadn’t expected the kindness at such a late hour. She didn’t want to talk about it, she knew Bucky had his own problems to deal with and she would be nothing but a burden. Her worries were nothing compared to what he had dealt with in his lifetime.

“S’okay doll, we don’t have to talk about it. But I’d recommend we fix your hands before you cause some serious damage.” Bucky nodded towards the bench and grabbed the first aid kit attached to the wall.

Y/N’s body shivered at his touch while he gently applied the ointment to the exposed flesh of her knuckles. She hissed at the sting and her own stupidity for taking out her emotions on herself, for not dealing with her pain and self-torment properly.

Bucky’s soft hum shocked her, and the way his thumb delicately stroked over her fingers had her relaxing into his touch, softening into his hands. “No bare-knuckle boxing for you, not for a week or two at least.” 

Bucky gave Y/N a lopsided smile, but she couldn’t return it, tears formed in her eyes. The emotions couldn’t be held back anymore, and she just let them pour out. 

Without hesitation, Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him. He surprised himself and stiffened at his actions, but the moment he felt her head burrow into the crook of his neck, he knew he would never let go until she wanted too. 

Y/N’s hands clutched his shirt, her knuckles probably splitting open further under the harsh grip, but she didn’t care. Her body shook as the sobs escaped her, her hot tears falling onto the exposed skin of Bucky’s neck. Her hand snaked up his chest and gripped his t-shirt like it was a lifeline, 

“I’m-mm s-sorry.” “I’m-mm s-sorry.” Her quiet shaky voice shocked her, but his touch soothed her, his warm hand brushing up and down her back was more comfort than she had ever expected from the soldier.

Bucky’s skin was electrified as his palm glided against the bare skin at her back, “S’okay, no need to apologise. Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

Y/N pulled herself away from Bucky’s embrace, embarrassment heating up her face as she stood up and tried to mask it by stretching out her arms.

His heart sank from the loss of her body heat. His thoughts focused on how he had reacted to Y/N’s movements, and he felt the tingle of a blush forming on his cheeks. He knew now that he didn’t want her to be physically away from him ever again. 

Without a second thought, Y/N grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him out of the gym. He was full of surprises tonight, he let her guide him without questioning. She expected him to question her, put up a fight or something but he just followed her, his fingers intertwined between her own like they were meant to be.

Bucky followed blindly, a first for the assassin, being directed somewhere was very different from being dragged down empty corridors with no knowledge of the destination in mind. His heart hammered in his chest as they arrived in the residential quarter and she pulled him into her apartment. He’d never been inside her apartment before, always standing at the threshold as he called in before or after a mission.

Once inside, even in the dim light of the lamp leading them to the lounge, Bucky could see the personal touches Y/N had made. From the coloured wallpaper on one of the walls, to the bookcase stacked full of titles he’d never heard of and displaying photographs of the team, her family and friends. Nothing in the room screamed “Avenger!” or “Spy!”

Y/N guided Bucky to the corner sofa before dropping his hand to take a seat. She crossed her legs and pulled a cushion into her lap, holding it tightly to her chest. At his hesitation, she patted the seat beside her with an attempted smile. He saw the anguish through the fake smile and perched on the edge of the couch, turned towards her.

“I don’t really open up to people. Well, anyone.” Y/N started, her eyes down casted and she fiddled with the trim of the cushion, “I can’t stop thinking about what happened on my last mission.”

Bucky nodded, he’d had an inkling; she’d shut herself away for over a week and normally it only took a few days for Y/N to bounce back and prance around the compound in her bubbly way. He sank back into the couch, showing that he wouldn’t leave until she wanted him too.

“I could have saved them Buck.” She looked at him, tears in her eyes once more. “I know I could have, but I chose myself. I was selfish.”

His heart wrenched at the sight, she shouldn’t feel guilty for this, he leant forward, cupping her face with his hands, “Listen to me, Y/N. You have saved more people in your lifetime than anyone could have asked. You will feel guilty for those you haven’t but please try to look at all the good you have done. And think about what would have happened if you had gone back into that building, you could have jeopardised other people or gotten yourself killed. You made the right decision, even if you feel shitty about it.”

Y/N was taken aback by Bucky’s frankness, she had seen it when he spoke to the other Avengers, but she had never been on the receiving end. She looked deep into his blue eyes, only seeing his determination to make her see the sincerity of his words. She sniffled, and he loosened his hold on her face, his hands dropping to hers and holding tightly.

“You will feel guilty, you will hate yourself, you will feel the pain deep in your bones and feel that your soul is tarnished.” Bucky all but whispered, “But you have to keep going, you have to make sure you continue to protect, save and avenge those that cannot do it themselves.”

She squeezed his hands, and then threw herself into him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, “Thank you Bucky.”

Bucky leaned his cheek against her head, burying his nose into her hair, feeling content in her embrace, “Anytime doll. Have you got any hot chocolate?”

Y/N nodded, eyes sparkling with adoration rather than the pain that Bucky had seen since he walked into the gym. It made a warmth grow inside; he was able to bring a little bit of joy during her pain. He navigated towards the kitchen, giving Y/N one last check before he left her alone and was greeted with a smile that had his heart thumping against his chest.

With a belly full of hot chocolate, and marshmallows, Y/N sunk back into the cushions, relishing in the quiet that Bucky had brought to her thoughts with merely his presence and his authoritative tone as he put everything into perspective for her.

Bucky preened at the way Y/N’s body relaxed and her features softened from the frown and distress of her thoughts. He felt pride bubbling within, and he had to squash the grin that he wanted to beam in her direction. Even more so when Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and her fingers traced his Vibranium arm while the other wound around and held his hand.

Sleep was falling heavy against Y/N’s eyes, she wormed her way into Bucky’s arms, not that he put up a fight, and she knew that she would soon fall asleep if she wasn’t careful. Y/N hadn’t been this affectionate or open with anyone in such a long time, let alone this close to Bucky in the years she had known him.

Y/N lifted her head off of his chest to look up at him, his eyes closed yet she could tell he wasn’t sleeping from the way his eyes danced behind their lids, “Buck, I’m going to end up falling asleep here if we don’t move.”

Bucky hummed, and with a swift move, Y/N was pulled up into his arms and was being carried into her bedroom. The lamp flicked off and they were cloaked in darkness, only just making out each other’s silhouettes once he softly placed her down on the mattress, above the covers. 

He curled up beside her, his body framing hers, his torso tight against her back as his arms wrapped around her waist. She felt the heat rising in her body, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of him being so close to her. It felt so right to be there, and she knew that she couldn’t fight her feelings for Bucky any longer with him lying so close to her. 

Y/N had always had a soft spot for Bucky, and it wasn’t just because of everything that happened with Hydra. She was not giving him a pity party, she genuinely enjoyed his company, as limited as it was. This was the longest and most intimate they had ever been, and she wanted to make the most of it.

A contented sigh escaped her lips and, in his half, asleep daze, Bucky pulled Y/N closer. His thoughts wandered to what this could all mean. He didn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. It might be a shot in the dark that she just might feel the same way, yet, deep down he’d always known that she was very important to him. More than a teammate, more than a friend.

She had always made his day a little brighter; the delicate smiles, the refill of the coffee pot with a wink in his direction, and the way she’d reduce the sound she’d make as she pottered around the lounge as he read the newspaper or a book. Bucky sucked in a breath; realisation dawned on him that this was something he didn’t want to mess up.

As if on cue, a mind reader to his thoughts, Y/N turned around to face him, her hand resting against his chest and his Vibranium arm remained wrapped around her. Doe eyes, wide with a tinge of fear and a small smile on her lips. He knew she was thinking about how to approach this and he nodded gently.

“I don’t want to push you.” Y/N’s voice was small in the silence. “I like you; I really like you, Bucky Barnes.”

“I really like you too sweetheart,” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead, momentarily pausing to take in her words.

Y/N felt the weight of her secret lift off her shoulders, her body humming with excitement that he felt the same way. She relished in his kiss and gripped his shirt a little more. “We don’t need to rush this. Let’s just take it slow.”

Bucky backed away to look at her, a lopsided smile on his lips, “That’s okay with me doll.”

Y/N was enraptured by the glow of the moonlight cascading through the window and over Bucky. His soft gaze on her, she’d seen it a few times before, but she’d always thought it was one shared with the rest of the team, and his friends. At that moment, Y/N knew it was just for her, she brought her face level to his, their lips almost touching, she glanced up at him for his permission. 

Bucky wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, and with his eyes closed, he dipped his head to the side. As soon as he pressed his lips to Y/N’s, he felt a rush of electricity jolt through his body. It left a smouldering burn in its wake as their limbs tangled together and their hands caressed one another over their clothes.

Breathlessly, they pulled away from one another. Y/N grinned up at him, a beam that he would never stop his heart from skipping a beat. Bucky cupped her face and pressed a light peck to her lips, her cheeks and then rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Y/N whispered, her warmth breath against his lips.

“You need to sleep. I’m alright with just a kiss goodnight.” Bucky kissed her once more.

They untangled themselves from one another, and Bucky pulled a blanket over Y/N as her eyes began to droop against the pillow.

“Sweet dreams Y/N.” Bucky tucked the blanket around her and leant back against the pillow, letting the soft snores calm his racing heart.

He knew she’d be in his dreams tonight, and he couldn’t wait to see what morning would bring.

the end.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @aroyaldarknessblr​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ 

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @musesforart​

[laurore-stormwitch]

we will fight for you -  part one

Post KoS: a fight ensues between Nikolai and Zoya after weeks of tension. The one person I could see helping in this is of course our beloved Genya. Second part is how I imagine the interaction between Nikolai and Genya going down. Thinkin of adding a third part displaying Zoya and Nikolai confrontation. Please note this is my first fan-fiction ever (so yeah slightly terrified about this). And also English is not my first language, so every advice counts!! I'd really appreaciate every feedback you'd wanna give. KoS has a special place in my heart. I'm just hoping to ease the anxiety until RoW comes out!

It’s also posted in full in AO3: we will fight for you

 “Your Highness”

He was absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table. The voice came from far away, meddling in the storm of thoughts that was plaguing his mind.

“Nikolai, is everything okay?”

The voice was sharper now, more urgent and the tone slightly higher. He blinked twice, realizing he was looking at Zoya, her eyes trained on the maps scattered on the table, her hands scribbling something on a piece of paper. Someone cleared their throat from his right. He shook his head and turned to the sound, finding Genya staring at him with a severe expression. She was the one who was trying to catch his attention.

“Yes Genya, I’m sorry. I guess these war meetings are getting to me. What were you saying?” He pinched his nose with two fingers, catching back his confident attire. He hoped the others would just believe he was exhausted. Which, to be fair, he was. But there was something else rendering his nights sleepless.  

“What are we going do with the Inferni stationed at the Fjerdan border?”

Genya asked, sorting through the coded letters they got from Ravkan spies. Nikolai’s eyes turned traitor again, slipping toward his general. She was standing straight at the other side of the room, her spine like steel, as silent as she had been for the past weeks since the Fold. Her look was focused, directed everywhere and to everyone but him.

It was driving him crazy.

They’ve been going on like this for weeks: the brilliant, smart, too-clever fox Nikolai Lantsov was clueless as to why she was acting in such an irritating way around him. Or what to do about this. It hadn’t been clear, at first, or maybe he was just too distracted to grasp the severity of the situation. Since they’ve been back from the Fold, she had been unusually nervous around him, snapping at every remark, staying away from him as if his touch was electrifying, avoiding the moments of peace they were used to sharing. Then she had begun to slowly put some distance between them: she had started finding excuses not to be alone with him too long; whenever he searched her out to have her opinion on something, she somehow slipped away. Or she would give him her thoughts, politely, without their usual banter or inside jokes, and then close him off. She wasn’t exactly ignoring him: it was as if they were just a King and his General, keeping their relationship affection-less and professional.  

He had the distinct sensation she was trying to sever the bond they shared, forget the intimacy they had. After a while he had started to feel her drifting away from him, growing more distant by the day, putting up the same walls she had before the Fold.

And she wasn’t looking at him. Not really looking at him.  Not once in the past two weeks.

He had tried everything. To provoke her, to catch her off guard, to get her stuck in meetings with him. Well, to be honest he had tried everything except talking to her. He had been steering away from a direct confrontation too. Was he afraid of what she might say? Of losing for good whatever they had found in the Fold, whatever spark of something he felt flickering between them? Or maybe finding out that the spark was all his doing? Her feelings were carefully hidden behind her armour, as usual. Was she running from them, distancing herself from him, or did they never exist in the first place? Maybe he was alone in this. The shadow of those feelings tormented his nights: loneliness, longing, despair at what he was losing. At the fact that he didn’t know how to stop this loss from happening. Realizing that maybe he wanted her, and maybe she didn’t, not in the same way. And that even if she did, there was a whole country standing in the way. Was the great Son of Ravka a coward? Too much was happening. He felt like he was losing his mind, his feelings screaming at him, tearing him up from the inside. The war, Ravka, the marriage, his duty, his wretched heart. He didn’t have a clue on how to face this. On how to face her.

And he missed her terribly. He was aching at not having her near on those long nights by the fire. He searched for her look, for a nod of her head, for the touch of her hand. He missed his general, the one who kept him marching, who steadied him, his strength and his friend. He also knew that those weren’t the only things he was missing: that the warmth in his heart and the crushing pain he felt whenever she was near was not at all the longing you felt for a friend.

He was angry. At himself, for what he was being forced to do, for running away from this. At her, for not giving him the chance to explain, for being so stubborn and ruthless in her behaviour.

“That’s a question for General Nazyalensky, if she’d be so nice to answer.”

His tone was sharper than he intended. His expression remained calm, unreadable, but the frustration in his voice was clear enough. He looked at her. She sat back on her chair, waving a hand lazily through her hair, taking her time. This was bound to kill him. How could she be so arrogant? She held her chin high, moving her eyes for a split second to him, and then to the windows and the sky beyond.

“You didn’t seem to agree with the course I suggested. So, I guess we’re stuck with your decision after all, Your Highness.”

She indulged while using his title, in a mocking tone. He knew they didn’t agree much on using so many Grisha spies on the border, and he knew she was frustrated too from being held behind the palace doors and not on the field with her soldiers. But they still needed to choose a course of action. He tried to maintain the grip on his emotions.

“You’re in charge of the Second Army soldiers. We need your opinion on this.”

“I gave you my opinion on this on the last meeting. I was under the impression you ignored it. Too busy trying to charm the princess into submission to actually discuss war’s strategies with you generals?”

That was a low blow. Especially considered the ruthlessness of her tone, sarcastic and gutting as a blade, and her eyes still refusing to meet his gaze. He knew she was just trying to test his patience: she had no problem holding a look while tearing someone down with her words, she never had a problem holding his look. She was purposely ignoring him, as if he was a commoner disturbing her quiet. Nikolai’s patience had been too strained, and the reference to Ehri was too much to take: it was not like he was too caught up on having fun to take care of his army. And it was not like charming Ehri was a task he took happily.  He coud’ve ignored her snarky remark. He would have done it, if the situation was different. But all the anger built up in the last weeks, all the pain and confusion slipped its leash and his temper was lost before he could assess how to properly react. He slammed his hands on the table, standing up straight, his hazel eyes darkening, lit up by fire.

“For Saints sake Zoya, look at me!”

There was a slight tremble in his voice, but he managed to keep it low, which was even more dangerous. The air in the room froze instantly. The fact that he also used her first name didn’t go unnoticed. Genya looked worried, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. Tamar and Tolya were avoiding his eyes, their heads awkwardly trained on the floor. David cleared his throat a little. Everyone seemed to sit back and drew away from the table, leaving a clear path from Zoya to Nikolai.

She took a deep breath in, getting up and turning to face him at last. She had the decency to appear startled for a couple of seconds, at least. It wasn’t common to see Nikolai lose his composure like this.

But of course, Zoya was Zoya after all: she kept a fiery look, not willing to give up her icy demeanour or to let any emotion through. Her eyes slitted silver for a moment, then they turned deep blue again, shining with rage at her prickled pride. A cold breeze made the table tremble. The room was crackling with electricity. Time seemed to slow down, everyone waiting for something to happen. Possibly for Zoya to strangle her King.

At least if she kills me, I’ll get a reaction from her, thought sourly Nikolai.

“What is it? You can’t decide on your own? Do you need me to coddle you?” Her words were meant to hurt him, and they found their mark. Nikolai felt his throat burning. He might have been already regretting his reaction, but he was not going to back up now. If this is the game she wanted to play, she surely had found a worthy contestant.

“Maybe I need a General who will listen and aide his King instead of disrespecting him. And who’s able to go through a war without her pride clouding her judgment.”

She lost her balance a little, struck at the words, taking a step back. Her voice when she spoke was slightly trembling too, now.

“I’ve done nothing but listen and aide my King. Nothing but be at your service. Maybe that’s where I was wrong.” He felt a wave of remorse and renewed anger. He wanted to hold her close to his heart and tell her everything was going to be okay. He wanted to hurt her like she hurt him. A new mask slipped on him.

“Do not make the mistake to think you can act like this and still be irreplaceable. I need soldiers, and if you’re not able to be one, you can walk through that door.”

He squared his shoulders, holding her gaze. His tone was cold, every word calculated and spoken like a ruler. That was Nikolai The King. That was someone he usually wasn’t around her, a persona he didn’t care to use with his friends. He heard the air crackle again around them, felt a freezing unforgiving wind rise against him. She had her fists clenched at her sides; utter shock written on her face. The dragon was clearly rumbling inside her, and for a second it looked like she was considering burning Nikolai alive. Even now, her deep blue gaze filled with rage, her silk black hair hovering around her, he managed to think of how insanely beautiful she was, and that he would have probably marched happily to his execution. The others had fallen silent, perfectly still, not knowing how to interfere with this. Genya leaned forward in a hesitant way, seemingly wanting to do or say something to release the tension. But she didn’t have the time to follow through: Zoya eventually hissed another breath in, unclenching her fists. The wind ceased to flow; she regained her posture, ruthless as ever. He didn’t really know what to expect: maybe her screaming at him, maybe being hit with a lightning. He didn’t expect the storm to stop; she cast him a pained look that tore his heart in two. Without saying so much as a word, she turned her back on him, leaving the room and slamming the door shut. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply.

“The meeting is dismissed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t know how he managed to keep a steady voice. The anger was all gone, replaced by a searing pain in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He remembered Zoya stealing the air from her opponents’ lungs; maybe that’s how they felt. He watched as the others all silently got out, without daring to say anything. Genya turned to him with a weary expression, but eventually slipped away without speaking. He watched the door close behind them, with the heavy feeling that all the light in the world had been sucked out and he was left alone, in darkness.

[revasnaslan]

I'll be honest about Annilis, I love him and his sympathetic background AS well as his awful approach to keeping Hec-tor safe, because he's probably in some legitimate danger but he took it too far. I love HP, but I also wanna beat his ass too. Just grab him by the ears and yell, "What are you doing you idiot sandwich?!" I just wanna ask him "Are you even happy? And no getting pegged by a Shade isn't happiness." Don't want him to die though, only because it's a cop-out for actual punishment.1/2

2/2 That's what kinda bummed me on HP in-show, he did so much horrible shit, was an arrogant living "God", and he was just killed? That easy? HP's hubris was grotesque and he deserved a worse punishment than just a lightshow to the face. HP was also a non character in the end and whatever characterization he did have was lost quickly, gonna admit. But, an arrogant jerk dying that quickly is too easy a punishment, he has to suffer the consequences of his actions and experience his loss in detail.

sorry I'm sending you so many asks about HP. But dear God did the show drop the ball on Horde "supposedly endgame villain who was woefully underutilized until the last minute and even then was handed the villain ball to make sure what credibility he did have was lost" Prime. Could have been great, his story was there, but Crew-ra wasted time on frivolous characters(star siblings might have been cool but s5 needed to work on its existing characters, not introduce new ones)and wasted plot points.

I actually have done a ton of analysis on why prime just doesn’t work as a villain for pretty much six months now. Like I started doing this pretty much the day that the finale dropped cause I never liked S5 at all. There’s just much wrong with it, strictly from a narrative prospective than I cannot get over it, which I why I’ve kind of retreated into doing Fuck Canon aus. And I don’t think the major problems plaguing prime is that he’s a bad person or a cult leader or whatever, that would be fine. This is a matter of set up and pay off. This is a matter of narrative structure. Those are my major problems with everything about this.

Anyway, I guess we’ll try a flaccid attempt at positivity, just to make it clear that I am not coming strictly from a point of view of hate… the one thing I remember liking about prime is that creepy dinner scene. Loved that scene, I was so giddy when they dropped it as a teaser clip, and I got to enjoy it in peace for like a day and a half before my love for the show went crumbling. Prime is absolutely on his game in that scene, I can very clearly see his mind working, because my interpretation of the scene is that he’s trying to bait glimmer into giving him information. Did he actually intend to harm adora? Who knows! Does it matter? Not really, considering he got the information he wanted, which was what was needed to work the heart. I can feel the tension in that scene, that is how he should have been for the rest of the season.

So what the fuck happened? *cracks knuckles* well let’s see shall we.

Foreshadowing It’s Fun Cause It’s A Thing I’ve Heard Of

So I think we all remember just how shocking it was when prime actually showed up, and he wasn’t anything like we’d all come to assume he’d be based on what had been said about him up until that point. What we had been fed was essentially that he was cold, calculating, and didn’t look upon “defects” well. He saw the clones as disposable. And they set up that aspect of his character just fine, and I don’t have a problem with how that was set up.

What they utterly failed to properly set up (and even contradicted themselves on) was the cult thing, and how prime is essentially this messiah figure to the clones. I highly suspect this occurred because they were writing the show as they went along, and hadn’t fully fleshed out prime’s whole deal until he actually appeared at the end of S4, but that’s just my own speculation given some of the things that had been said in interviews regarding other aspects of the writing (namely that micah was apparently not supposed to be alive in the first place and that happened because of a miscommunication between noelle and one of the other writers).

Regardless, there are a number of things that should probably have been done differently in order to properly foreshadow prime’s cult leader status, that actually would have heightened hordak’s characterization as well. For one thing, there’s a reason we all assumed that the galactic horde was merely a military program and it’s because of how hordak acts throughout the first four seasons. We can talk in circles about headcanons until we’re blue in the face (i.e., he might have memory problems), but the fact of the matter is that those are headcanons and that hordak’s entire narrative changes from one of an ableist family to one of a religious trauma seemingly on a dime come the very end of S4 when prime shows up.

imagine how satisfying the foreshadowing would have been if hordak had actually been spouting dogma the entire show (i.e., “cast out the shadows” and “all beings must suffer to become pure”) only for it peter off once he’s befriended entrapta, if he had been calling those who he respected brother/sister instead of force captains (which is a far more militarized word to use, and judging by the galactic horde isn’t even a term they use), if he had still been dressed in his uniform and only actually started dressing differently after entrapta had helped him? Hell, he never even so much as implies that entrapta is leading him astray before he’s back with prime, he doesn’t even seem particularly distressed about being around her most of the time, and the only reason he even gets persnickety with her is because of his medical condition.

One point I’m going to expand on for a moment is the whole “brother” thing, because that is actually a very good way of explaining what I mean. Now, hordak doesn’t actually mention any other clones at all from what I remember. This is contrary to all of the clones in S5 referring to each other as “brother” pretty openly and it being seen as a term of respect. However, the only person that hordak actually calls “brother” up until S5 is prime, and this inadvertently ended up making the word seem far more neutral than it should have been considering the context of S5. The word “brother” is actually a control tool, and if they had wanted to establish that sooner, hordak should have been calling anybody he respected that.

So, either the writers hadn’t actually thought of that part of the narrative yet, or they’re just that bad at foreshadowing.

There are also three instances of the narrative contradicting itself with regards to prime, one in S3, one in S4, and one in S5. The first is that hordak wanted to make a new body for himself. While one could argue that this was meant to be foreshadowing that prime takes new bodies whenever his old one failed (which is fine, that works as foreshadowing), the act of hordak admitting that he was intending to do that is what actually creates the snag. With the context of S5, we learn that becoming a vessel is meant to be a place of honor, but this comes with the caveat that it seems like only prime is allowed to take new bodies. So why the ever living fuck would someone as “pious” and “unworthy” as hordak think that was something he could ever be allowed to do, much less that prime would welcome him back with open arms if he did it. But there’s zero hesitation on hordak’s part, he doesn’t even mention that this is something usually only reserved for prime.

The second is that prime literally looked at the heart of etheria and said it was “unlike anything [he had] ever seen” despite canonically fighting the first ones, so he’d presumably have recognized the energy signature that first one’s tech gives off and be like Oh Shit. This one in particular drives me absolutely nuts because if I was writing a villain who had lived long enough to fight the people this mystical weapon was created by I would never write them saying that what the actual fuck. My gripe here is not that prime is ancient, that’s fine, I could’ve vibed with that. But the fact that he not only fought the first ones but also recognized mara is really egregious in a way that borders on parody for me. Like what a flimsy excuse for him to be connected to adora (and we’ll get to that!)

The third and final one is that hordak was allegedly thrown out for his defects. That’s what we were told, that’s what a major facet of hordak’s trauma is centered around. However, at the same times, prime seems like… oddly fixated on hordak in a way that usually implies something deeper is going on here. That was why I was so convinced that hordak wasn’t remembering something clearly, because why would prime spare him instead of killing him immediately after returning if he was defective enough to warrant being thrown out? Come S5, prime seems to have forgotten about the pesky little plot detail that is hordak’s defects, since they never come up again! Nope! Hordak is not only completely healed of his ailments (which Can I Get A Yikes?) but he’s also been welcomed back to his original position as prime’s right hand by the mid-point of the season, and he stays there until the finale unless the plot demands he be elsewhere to interact with entrapta cause hordak was added in post. You can’t even argue that he was keeping hordak alive because eThErIaN kNoWlEdGe because he has those fucking mind chips. Literally every single person he’s chipped is connected to the hivemind because of that. He’d have every single bit of knowledge that he could possibly want right there at his fingertips. He doesn’t need hordak alive at all.

Which brings us to…

It’s Almost Like He Wasn’t A Villain To The Proper People

The thing about villains is that, in order for them to not feel out of place, in order for their defeat to actually give a true feeling of satisfaction, you kind of have to put them up against the right people. The reason that prime ultimately fails in this respect is that he is not adora and catra’s villain, despite the narrative pushing him as that…

I actually once joked on twitter that if the rise of skywalker had come out when S5 was being written, then prime would have likely ended up being revealed as adora’s long lost grandfather in some attempt to make his fixation on her seem warranted. That’s the level we’re at in terms of how connected the two of them appear to be for the villain and hero thing. They just are not connected, and prime has absolutely no reason to be this fixated on her. They tried to explain it with she ra and prime being old enemies, but that’s equally as confusing because a) mara hadn’t mentioned him up until that point, b) this inclusion actually makes the first ones creating a superweapon look justified since prime is such a huge threat, and c) she ra is explicitly stated to have been on etheria long before the first ones even colonized it, so why the fuck is she just gallivanting around the cosmos fighting cult leaders?

And to be clear, if this whole prime versus she ra had actually been hinted at, I would not be taking so much issue with this. But as there was absolutely zero mention of him, it just comes off as egregious and very, very sloppy on their parts.

Prime also should not be as fixated on catra as he is, that doesn’t make sense at all. I know why this happened in particular, though, and it’s because the writing team was so in love with her that they just had to give her this arc. That just makes its inclusion all the worse to be honest. Why does he go to such great lengths to use catra to torture adora, why does he go into a total breakdown after catra escapes? He isn’t connected to either of them…

… because he is hordak and entrapta’s villain.

that prime didn’t immediately want entrapta dead continues to confuse me to this day, nearly seven months after the fact. Like you mean to tell me that this cult leader, who is presumably used to complete obedience from his followers, finds one of the wayward members of his proverbial flock lost on some backwater, who didn’t want to be found, and he knows exactly who is responsible for sewing those seeds of discord in this poor lamb’s head. And he doesn’t immediately want entrapta dead?

Not only does prime never mention her, despite it being very easy to push a plotline about how it’s necessary because she’s perceived as a danger to the rest, and especially to the poor lost soul who was ultimately returned to him. Instead, prime just doesn’t seem to realize entrapta exists. He doesn’t know who she is despite literally reading hordak’s mind. He doesn’t even seem to interpret her as threat considering he wasn’t worried about putting her and hordak right next to each other in the finale. He should have been using hordak to torture entrapta, and he should have had his break because hordak escaped him. That whole scene where catra is under mind control and adora was trying to snap her out of it was textbook entrapdak. Hordak should have been the one to delve into the hivemind to help adora. It was his story and it was taken from him when he was sacrificed on catra’s narrative arc altar.

And this is ultimately completely fixable. Because they had a villain they could have been using for adora and catra the whole time. Shadow Weaver. Y’know, their mutual abuser who was the main cause of strife between the two of them, and the person who kind of set the plot in motion since she’s the reason catra is the way that she is?

He Blew It. Super Hard. Complete Buffoonery.

Ultimately one of the biggest writing fumbles with prime is that he is just really fucking dumb as the plot demands, and it doesn’t make any kind of narrative sense for him to be that way, it is literally just him being at the mercy of the writers who need him to do something stupid so they can push the plot forward since they made him too overpowered for it to happen any other way.

There’s numerous instances of this across the season, including him bringing entrapta aboard the velvet glove when the very person he would have had very good reason to not let her near is standing right there, and him deciding to give catra pretty much free reign of the velvet glove and seeming to decide to trust her despite him knowing damn well that she’s likely to betray him the second he does something she doesn’t like, and the time he literally left adora to be beaten by catra instead of just killing her outright when she couldn’t even activate she ra. And in all these cases he had the fucking nerve to seem surprised when it happened?

However, there is one plot point that I feel illustrates how goddamn stupid he is to move the plot forward, and it’s the mind chips.

I mean one of the reasons I dislike it is going back to how little foreshadowing the writers actually seem capable of committing to. There is nothing to indicate in the narrative that prime actually employs mind control on anybody besides the clones, and this becomes especially egregious when we later meet the star siblings, and we find out that there are large swathes of the universe that are seemingly not chipped? It just screams like they needed some type of angst plot point for catra, so they had to find a way to make it work.

But the very inclusion of the mind chips as a plot point makes prime look so ridiculously dumb, because we are told those chips connect people to the hivemind, we are explicitly shown this for catra angst. So a) why does he need hordak around at all, because the excuse he needs to know about etheria doesn’t work since he literally chips like half of the etherian population later on anyway, b) if he needed information on the heart of etheria, why didn’t he just chip glimmer outright, it would have saved him a lot of time and hassle, and c) if he knew damn well that catra had betrayed hordak numerous times and was likely to do the same to him, why didn’t he just immediately chip her so he could mitigate two problems. If he had chipped catra immediately, he wouldn’t have lost glimmer, and it would have been next to impossible for adora and bow to storm the velvet glove through the means that they did.

When your main villain is that fucking stupid, the tension is completely sapped out of your narrative, and prime doesn’t have enough character unto himself to continue holding up his own arc. He is a sexy lamp cardboard cutout that just happens to be brought onto the scene when they were in need of someone to throw the idiot ball at. Prime is supposed to be this thousand year old body hopper who has the wisdom of the ages, and yet he was defeat by a group of teenagers driving a clown card held together by nothing but duct tape and prayers.

Anyway!

Guess Who Just Got Murdered!

Anon, I completely agree that the way prime got taken out was just… hm. Well, it was a choice, given how they had written the rest of the season.

I’ve said this before, but I really wish I could actually enjoy hordak yeeting him, but I just don’t feel anything. That scene is a culmination of an arc that never happened because hordak was barely on screen for S5. It feels like we’re missing this whole season-long arc about how hordak managed to break free of prime and was actively working against him, and that scene is the lowest point, right before the greater scope villain is ultimately defeated by the protagonist. Which just furthers my point that prime is really hordak’s villain, because hordak reads more like a protagonist than I think the writers actually intended for him to.

Since you mentioned anillis, I feel the need to comment on him as well, because I do know exactly what happens to him at the end of my au, because I actually planned for his ending from the beginning and built his arc towards that point. The very bare bones spoilers is that he isn’t going to die, because a) he needs to live with the consequences of his actions and b) him dying would affect hec-tor horribly, especially since if anybody had to deal the killing blow it would be hec-tor. And hec-tor doesn’t deserve to be forced to do that. He wants freedom, he doesn’t want his brother dead by his own hand.

So, I completely agree that just killing prime off feels a little… like a cop out? I’m not going to get into a discussion of how he was defeated by the power of (romantic) love because my issue there is not with the trope itself, but ultimately how it was handled, and that also has to do more with my grievances with how catradora was ultimately handled than my grievances with prime. However, him being like… exorcised…

Well it sure does clean up some loose ends that we don’t want to discuss huh?

[whitewolfmoving]

Going For Gold || Bucky Barnes Mixed Martial Arts AU

Summary: Bucky made his choices long ago, now he has to live with the fallout. Can he return to the life he once knew? Can he mend the heart of the girl he left behind? Can he be a better man than he used to be? [Modern au] [Mixed Martial Arts au]

Trigger Warnings: lots of swearing, Bucky Barnes being a whole ass idiot, mentions of character death, mild detail of injuries, arguing, flashbacks, PTSD, alcohol and prescription drug use (non-addictive)

Word Count: 2126

Chapter Warnings: blackmail (should that be a warning?)

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Chapter Three: The Best Laid Plans

Bucky had tossed and turned all night.

He couldn’t get what Steve had said to him about Serenity out of his head… Just the mere thought of Serenity begging and pleading with every ounce of strength she had left to let her die, to let her be with her best friend, to let her see Mikey again– How truly broken she must’ve been, and Bucky was nowhere to be found when she’d needed him most.

Guilt was eating Bucky from the inside and had kept him up most of the night, any sleep he’d gotten had been restless and plagued with thoughts of living in a world where Serenity wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine coming home to find the woman he’d give up everything for, not being alive when he got back. He couldn’t imagine never being able to see her face or hear her voice again. Steve was right, Bucky has screwed up. He’d let himself behave utterly childishly when it came time to face the music, and because of that, he’d almost lost the most important person in his life. Not that he’d known it at the time, but knowing it now didn’t make it better.

Around 4 AM, Bucky decided it was time to get to work. He rolled out of bed and headed straight for the kitchen to start a fresh pot of coffee. First, he’d make a game plan. Then, he’d put that plan into action. Bucky had decided he couldn’t waste any more time, he needed to get Serenity back before she had her heart broken all over again the audacity of Steve Rogers to be seeing two girls at once, the audacity of Steve Rogers to try and tell Bucky that he had no idea what he was seeing. Bucky knew one thing for sure, Steve was going to be in a world of pain if he hurt Serenity. Whether she accepted Bucky back into her life or not, she was too important to let anyone take advantage of her in any capacity. Especially Steve.

By the time 6:00 rolled around, Bucky knew exactly what he wanted to do and how he wanted it to look. Sure, he still had a long way to go but if everything played out how he hoped it would, he’d be back in the cage within the next six months. It was a very concrete timeline, but it’s one Bucky knew he could follow. Six months, and he’d be back in fighting shape. Of course, there was still the matter of his shoulder to figure out—could he really get back in the cage with such a severe injury?—Paul would never let him return to fighting if he wasn’t in prime condition. So he’d just have to make sure that he was in prime condition.

Bucky showered and dressed with enough time to run through his plan once more. Satisfied with his goals, he grabbed his jacket, keys, and helmet from where he’d dropped them in a pile by the front door last night—too exhausted to care about putting them away properly—and ventured into the cold early morning air. It smelled like home, it smelled like all of the things Bucky had missed over the last six years. It reminded him of happiness, of togetherness, of family; it brought back memories of him and Mikey and Steve and Serenity, it brought back feelings of safety and warmth. He’d been so wrapped up in his own shit, that he hadn’t once thought of what losing Mikey had done to Serenity. He’d made mistakes before, but none as big as abandoning her when she needed him the most.

He donned his jacket and helmet, and swung his right leg over the seat of his bike. He had one task for today, just one, and he planned on executing it perfectly—Bucky was going to convince Serenity to let him stay and return to training at Mikey’s. As he rode down the winding streets from his apartment just outside of town, he wondered if he truly could convince Serenity to let him come back. No, to let him come home.

Bucky pulled into the back gate half an hour later, after stopping at their favorite small cafe; since it was abundantly clear he couldn’t win her over just on merit alone, he figured he’d have to bribe her a little. What better way to do so than with her favorite drink on chilly autumn mornings? Well, here goes. He thought to himself, grabbing the thermos from his saddlebag and pocketing the Harley’s keys just as he had the morning before.

The gym wasn’t open to the public at 6:30. Paul had always left it close for Serenity, Mikey, Steve and Bucky to use privately in the mornings. Regular members wouldn’t be permitted to start showing up until 9:00, no one ever seemed to have a problem with it. And Bucky had been lucky enough to overhear Serenity and Natasha tell Paul they’d be back bright and early, “...we’ll be here at 6:30 sharp,” they’d said on their way out the day before.

The overwhelming sense of dread Bucky had felt the previous morning, had been replaced by stubbornness and pride. Now, he left the Harley next to Steve’s truck, and marched himself up to the back door with brand new confidence. Just as he’d expected, he found Serenity and Natasha sparring together on the mats, with Paul and Steve standing off to the side.

Bucky was in awe of the sight before him.

Serenity Corbyn still moved just as quickly and gracefully as she had when they’d started training at 15. When it came to fighting, she possessed the speed of a cheetah and the deadly accuracy of a scorpion. Serenity had always been light on her feet and heavy with her punches. She was good, too good. It’d taken each of the boys years to be able to best Serenity when they sparred together, Bucky had almost forgotten just how good she was. But it seemed she’d finally met her match.

From what Bucky could tell, Natasha might not be as fast as Serenity was, but she was a lot more calculated. What she lacked against Serenity’s speed, she made up for in well thought out steps. Natasha seemed to be one or two steps ahead of Serenity at every turn, even Bucky had to admit the redhead was good at what she did.

“Hands up, keep your hands up!” Steve coached from the sidelines. Serenity brought her hands back up before her face at his urging, keeping her focus locked on Natasha. Steve’s smile widened as he watched Serenity gain control again. “That’s it, there you go. Keep her moving. Nice, Ren. That’s what I like to see.”

Serenity’s movements ebbed and flowed like the changing tide. She lured Natasha in and pushed her back out, had her guessing at Serenity’s next move before she made it. It was nearing the end of the session and both women looked exhausted. However, this was where the young woman excelled the most, this was Serenity’s strongest point. The three men watched as Natasha brought Serenity down to the mat. Before she could stand and regain her bearings, Serenity wrapped her legs around Natasha's hips and locked them behind her. With the other woman now secured in a closed guard, Serenity extended her own hips and pulled Natasha down with her legs. She wrapped her right arm around her neck, clasped her hands together around her trachea, and applied pressure to Natasha’s carotid artery by pushing the blade of her arm and wrist upwards.

“There you go, hold it! Keep her down. Good, Serenity! Nice and tight!” Steve praised her, his voice dripped with pride.

Natasha finally tapped out and Serenity let her go. The two women stood, bracing against each other for support and walked off the mat. They sat on the bench behind Paul and Steve, and celebrated the success of their sparring match.

“I’ve never seen anyone best Serenity as quickly as you do, Nat,” Steve commented, handing both women a towel and bottle of water.

“I’ll admit, she’s tough. Your girl certainly knows what she’s doing, Rogers,” Natasha huffed, gulping down a generous amount of water. “I didn’t account for that last move, though. Guillotine choke hold from a closed guard. Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?”

Bucky took that as his cue to make himself known. He pushed himself off of the wall by the stairs and moved to stand next to Paul. “Me and Mikey taught that to her when we were 17. Nice to see you’re still dipping into my bag of tricks, Moo.”

Serenity stared daggers at the dark-haired man standing above her. “Don’t call me that. What are you doing here, Barnes? You know the gym’s closed for private training until 9.”

“I know, I’m here to train.”

“Like hell you are.”

“I’m just looking to train, that’s all.”

“Then you can pay for a gym membership like everyone else. Private training is closed, for employees only. Last I checked, you don’t work here anymore.”

Bucky sighed. “Come on, Moo, don’t be like that.”

Serenity stood, took a few steps toward Bucky, and stopped directly in front of him. Her brown eyes flashed with anger. “I said, don’t call me that. Pay for a gym membership or get out. You’re not welcome here anymore, James.”

The sound of his name rolling off of Serenity’s tongue was music to his ears; even if she was only saying it because she was angry with him, it was a feeling he’d never been able to forget. His name sounded different coming from Serenity, and he’d missed hearing her say it all those years while he was deployed. It sounded just as sweet coming from her now, as it had before the last time he saw her.

“I know I screwed up, I know I hurt you. But hear me out, that’s all I’m asking.” Bucky held his thermos out for her to take, hoping she’d accept his olive branch. But she didn’t.

“Now, Serenity, he’s family. Family is always welcome here,” Paul said, attempting to placate his daughter’s rage with gentle urging.

“He’s no family of mine. My family didn’t abandon me in my time of need.” She turned to Steve and he could see the pain in her eyes, hidden behind the thick walls of anger she’d constructed to keep all thoughts of Bucky out of her mind. “I don’t want him here. You brought him back here? You make sure he’s gone. Today.”

Natasha grabbed Serenity’s hand, she and Paul led her away from the two men, leaving Bucky staring after them in disbelief. Step one of his plan had failed, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Serenity rejecting him twice in two days. The woman he was faced with now, was vastly different from the woman he’d left behind. Her heart was cold, closed off, locked away from him. She was just beyond his reach, and he’d failed to grab hold of her. He’d just have to try harder.

Bucky turned to face Steve, his eyebrows knitted together as he analyzed his next request carefully. “The annual local fight is coming up in six months. I want to be ready for it. Let me train here after the gym is closed down for the day.”

Steve scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, Buck. She made it explicitly clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

“She doesn’t have to know. You owe me this one thing, Steve.”

“Bucky, are you really blackmailing me over that conversation from last night?”

“Listen, Rogers, the solution is simple. After you and Serenity close down the gym for the day, you’ll let me back in to train on my own. I still have my keys, I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

“What makes you think she won’t find out if I do this for you?” Steve asked, curious to hear Bucky’s answer.

“I realized she doesn’t know your little secret. If you want it to remain that way, you’ll help me get ready for the local comp in six months. And if you don’t, I’ll tell her about Natasha myself.” Bucky stood, challenging his best friend to disagree. If being away had taught him anything in the last six years, it was that sometimes you had to fight dirty in order to achieve your goals. And to Bucky, Serenity was worth fighting dirty for. He saw the moment Steve realized he wasn’t making empty threats, and he smirked.

Steve’s jaw tensed. “I’ll do it. Just keep your mouth shut about me and Nat.”

——————————

A/N: I AM NOT SORRY.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged. Remember to like, comment, and reblog if you loved it!

This is just the beginning, my friends.

-Auri <3

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ “Enigma” (Near/Nate River) [1 of ?]

Genre: Action, Supernatural, Angst, Crossover, Friendship ☁

Word Count: 3,319 ☁

Pairing: First Person x Near ☁

World: Death Note feat. Supernatural ☁

WARNING: Spoilers for episode season 1, episode 6 of Supernatural. If you want to want to skip the spoiler, skip the paragraph that starts with “To add to that”.

Author’s Note: This is written in the first person, featuring an OC named Rae Winchester, Dean and Sam’s cousin. You don’t have to be a fan of Supernatural to read this fic.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Stifling a yawn, I slid the keycard into the lock, waiting for it to click before twisting the handle. A blast of cold air hit your face and you sighed in content. After being out in the hot Texas sun all day fighting off demons, it felt nice to find some cool air.

Sam shot up from the small round table near the door, his expression one of worry. “Where have you been?!”

I scowled, scratching my head. “I was working, what do you think.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Uhh,” My mind flashed back to that morning. I had been fighting a rather large and ugly demon. My phone had rung and I got distracted for a moment, giving him an opportunity. He attacked, slamming me up against a brick wall. My phone fell out of my hand and smashed against the cement. “We should really invest in sturdier phones, Sam.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “That’s not important right now. We’ve got a problem,”

“What is it?” I asked, leaning against the counter.

“Dean was arrested,”

“Again?”

“This time it was the FBI,”

I groaned, falling into the chair across from him. “Of all the organizations, it just had to be those bastards.”

“We have to get him back, Rae.”

“You got a plan?” I questioned, leaning back in my chair.

He frowned, looking thoughtfully at his laptop. “I’m… working on it,”

I stood up, leaving him to his thoughts as I stepped back outside into the heat. The door clicked behind me and I leaned against it, pulling my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I lit it up before taking a long drag.

My name is Rae Winchester and I’m a hunter. That is, I make a living off of killing non-human creatures that plague our world. Dean and Sam are my cousins, but they practically raised me and I view them more like brothers. Both of them are older than me, Dean being the eldest brother. They’re also hunters, but they chose a different path than I did.

While I take jobs and get paid to kill things, they prefer to hunt in secret and without pay. In order to get by, they commit petty theft – money, identities, credit cards. They’ve stolen it all at one point or another.

To add to that, a long time ago Sam and Dean were investigating a case in Missouri which turned out to be a shapeshifter – a creature that could take on the form of anyone it wants. When it became aware that it was being hunted, it changed itself to look like Dean before attacking and murdering a couple people. Ever since then, he has been on and off the Most Wanted list.

I’ve done my best to use my connections to their fullest extent to protect him, but even if I get the record erased from the system, there are still those hard-pressed agents that are determined to ‘bring him to justice’.

Justice… what a joke.

I threw my cigarette down onto the ground, stomping it out with my boot.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

I tucked the white button-up shirt into my slacks before pulling my suit jacket on and buttoning it up. I glanced at Sam as he waited by the door, dressed in his own suit.

Before leaving the hotel room we were staying in, Sam grabbed my shoulder. “Please be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Hmph, careful is my middle name, Sammy,” I responded, straightening the tie. I grabbed the wallet with my fake badge inside and tucked into the back pocket of my slacks before leaving the room. I headed downstairs, keeping my head held high as we exited the hotel. One thing I had learned over the years is that if you act confident like you’re the most important person in the world, people will start to believe it, and I did just that. Anyone that dared look at us, I glared at them in turn and they quickly averted their gaze.

The FBI headquarters that Dean was being held at was in New York City.

We stepped into the building like we owned it, heading for the security gate. The guard eyed us suspiciously as I stepped up to the keypad, scanning my badge. It clicked and the gate unlocked, swinging open. The guard nodded his head and we stepped through the metal detector without a problem.

It’s times like these that I’m glad I don’t use guns. Not that I have to, all things considered.

The woman standing in the elevator saw us approaching and held the door. Sam and I stepped onto the elevator and he thanked her. The door slid closed and the elevator lurched as it started its ascent.

“What floor?” She asked, her hand hovering over the panel.

“Twenty-four, please,” I answered.

She pressed it before looking at Sam.

“I’m also going to the twenty-fourth floor,”

She nodded, lowering her hand.

The two of us made small talk until the woman got off on the tenth floor.

“What’s the plan?” Sam asked, adjusting his tie.

“Find Dean,”

He looked at me in disbelief, “Please tell me there’s more than that…”

“Nope,”

“Plan B?”

“I don’t think they sell that here, Sammy.”

He deadpanned. “Not funny,”

I shrugged. “Never said it was. Look, all you have to do is find Dean. Once you find him, let me know and I’ll create a distraction. During the chaos, you grab him and run. Simple, yeah?”

Sam frowned, shifting from one leg to the other. “You better not die,”

“I won’t,”

“I won’t forgive you if you do,”

“I’m not going to die, Sam.” I glanced at him. “At least not yet,” I glanced at the numbers surging past on the LED screen above the door. “Look alive, we’re almost there,”

He straightened up as the doors slid open, stepping out and heading to the left. I went right.

Although it was only one floor, there was a lot of ground to cover and while our badges could get us past any of the security clearance levels, the people couldn’t be bypassed so easily. I wasn’t too worried about myself, I know I can handle their attacks, but Sam is a different story.

My hands clenched at my sides. Rescuing Dean was not my top priority – keeping them alive was.

I followed the hallway, glancing into each room with a window. I felt someone pass by me, but I paid it no mind. I wasn’t interested in the agents here, but I suddenly felt a strange feeling overcome me. What was this raw emotion I was feeling? Was it… a challenge?

I turned around, surprised to find the aura radiating off of a young boy. He stood in the middle of the hall, watching me through blank, calculating eyes. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. What was a kid so young doing at the FBI headquarters?

“Hey, kid. I’m looking for someone. His name is Dean Winchester, you seen him?” I questioned.

His expression did not change, he just tilted his head slightly and started to twirl a piece of his snow-white hair around a pale finger. “You don’t belong here,” he stated, monotonously.

My eyes narrowed. I just fucking got here, there’s no way in hell I’m letting him ruin it this early. “Listen, kid, I don’t have time for games. It’s important that I find this man. Do you know where he is or not?”

He nodded but said nothing.

My eye twitched. This kid unnerved me. Why was his expression so blank? Was he a fucking robot? Forget it, I’m wasting time. Without another word, I turned and continued down the hall.

He followed me. I could feel his presence behind me. Despite his age, it felt like a lion stalking its prey.

Seriously, what is with this kid? I can’t sense any demon blood in him. He smells completely human… so why is he giving off such a strong aura? It didn’t make any sense.

I stopped, turning around to scowl at me. “Stop following me,”

“You don’t belong here,” He repeated.

“Pretty sure a kid doesn’t belong here either,” I scoffed. Should I show him my badge? It’s the highest quality forgery available, I paid top dollar for it and it’s never failed me in the past, but something about this kid made me hesitate. I knew deep down that he would be able to see through it. Before I could speak again, a shrill voice interrupted me.

“What do we have here~? Is that a she-demon I see?”

My body tensed at the familiar voice and I turned around, hoping that I was wrong. Standing at the end of the hall was a woman named Marnie. As usual, she was dressed in a skimpy outfit, the color pink being the primary color from head to toe. A large feather boa was wrapped around her neck.

“You have got to be kidding me,”

She smirked, folding her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and making them appear larger. “Imagine meeting you here of all places. It must be fate~!”

A sick, twisted fate maybe. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“I charmed them, of course. One look and all the boys do my bidding without question.” She giggled, wrapping her arms tighter around her.

“Isn’t there some magical law against that or something?” I asked, rubbing the back of my head. What was I going to do? It would be bad enough that I have to fight off these damned FBI agents until Sam and Dean can get away, but now I have to fight off a witch too? Anytime you’d like to give me a break, universe.

I suddenly remembered the kid behind me and cursed. If we start fighting, he’s going to get hurt. Damn it.

She giggled again. “Of course there is, silly~ But rules don’t apply to me. I can charm anything with my magic. The world is my playground~!”

“Sounds fascinating,” I said dryly. “Well it was great catching up with you, gotta go.” I turned on my heel, grabbing the boys arm and speed walking back the way I came. I could feel the magic barreling towards me and I dodged, pushing the kid against the wall. A ball of pink energy whizzed past at an alarming speed before exploding at the other end of the hall. Alarms started to go off.

“Fuck my life,” I groaned, glancing down at the kid. He was staring at Marnie with wide, emotionless eyes. I shook his body lightly to get his attention, keeping my eyes on the witch as she approached. “Listen, kid. I’m gonna distract her. When I rush her, I want you to run in the opposite direction. Don’t stop, don’t look back. Just go, understand?”

He didn’t answer, not that I expected him to. I pushed him behind me, unbuttoning the suit jacket and loosening the tie.

“Ya know, I was set to go on vacation tomorrow. Peace and quiet without work for a week,” I sighed. “No witches, no demons, no fucking idiots for a full week. Is that so much to ask?”

“Come now, She-Demon, you know you can’t get rid of us that easily,” Her eyes narrowed and they started to glow. Before she could fire off another blast of energy, I rushed her, pulling my fist back and connecting it with her jaw. She slid back, her heels digging into the carpet. When she lifted her head, her eyes were glowing stronger, anger clear on her face. She thrust her hand forward and another ball of energy shot towards me. I dodged right as it got close and it whizzed past, colliding with the group of FBI agents that had just turned the corner, weapons drawn. They cried as it hit them, sending them flying against the wall.

My eyes quickly scanned the are behind me. The kid was gone. I sighed in relief.

“How dare you take your attention off me,” Marnie hissed, now in front of me. I didn’t react in time and she flew around, her heeled foot slamming into my stomach. The wall behind me cracked on impact and I grunted, feeling the heel slice the skin through the white button-up.

I grabbed her ankle, pressing hard into the ground to keep myself steady. “God, you’re so annoying!” I cried, kicking her other leg from underneath her. I pulled a knife from my sock and rammed it into her skin. She cried out, sending an uncontrolled burst of energy at my hand. I released her ankle and scrambled out of the way. It hit the wall, increasing the dent from my body.

“Come on, Sam,” I growled into the earpiece.

More agents rounded the corner, their guns pointed at us. They were all shouting at us to get down, their voices overlapping one another and drowned out by the shrill sound of the alarm.

“I’ve got him!” Sam’s voice rang through the earpiece. “We’re clear!”

Perfect, now I just gotta get my ass out of here. I glanced behind me. It was a dead-end, but there was a large window off to the left. Well, I can’t exactly use the elevator now, can I.

I smirked at the agents that were slowly advancing. “I’d love to stay for tea, but I’m gonna miss my train. Later, boys!” I turned on my heel and darted for the end of the hall. They started to shoot, but their aim sucked.

Marnie cried out in anger and I looked behind me in time to see her slam her fist into the ground. It shattered in a flash of neon pink, the burst of light engulfing the hall. I knew this was gonna hurt…

The light exploded, thrusting me out the window. The glass scraped my skin, but none of the wounds felt too deep. The wind ripped around my body as gravity started to take over and I started to fall towards the Earth.

This is also gonna hurt…

My body slammed into the cement a couple blocks away from the building, in an alley behind a fish market. I landed a foot away from the dumpster, my body digging into the cement and pulling the dumpster over. It landed on top of me, spilling its contents.

I should have let the agents shoot me. It would have been less painful.

Sam came rushing over, his face a mixture of worry and disgust. “Are you… are you okay?”

I grunted, shoving the dumpster off of me. My clothes were wet with blood and rotten fish guts. “What the fuck do you think?”

He held his hand out and I took it, muttering about witches.

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” I scoffed, kicking the dumpster across the alley.

“You’re not getting paid at all,” Sam responded, his voice muffled by the shirt he was holding over his nose.

“That’s the point, Sam!”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

I sat down on the park bench, watching the sun set on the horizon. The park was located on the edge of the river, so the sun was reflecting on the water. If I didn’t hate the sun so damn much, I might even consider it to be beautiful.

A week had passed since we rescued Dean from the FBI headquarters. The boys had left New York immediately, heading over to Oregon to investigate a string of mysterious disappearances. I headed over to Maine to recover from the fish hell I had experienced.

Even now, news stations and papers were going nuts reporting on the incident, which they labeled as “an act of terrorism”. What little bit of camera footage that Marnie hadn’t destroyed with her blast of anger was tampered with by an accomplice that worked for me. He’s considered one of the best hackers in the world – there’s very little he can’t get his digital hands on. With this, the FBI had no faces, names or leads. The only thing they could clearly report was that their prisoner had escaped during the chaos.

“Ren,”

I snapped out of my thoughts, looking over at Detective Kim as he approached me. “Sup, detective? Must be important to ask me out like this.”

He nodded, holding out a manila folder. I took it from his hands, flipping it open. The report was about a string of serial murders in Salt Lake City. There was also a report on a missing girl named Sarah Adams.

Detective Kim pointed at her photograph. “She was kidnapped sometime between the first and fifth murder.”

“What makes you so sure they’re connected?”

“He left his calling card,”

I flipped the page, seeing a photograph of this calling card he mentioned. It was a pirate flag with a bloody dagger stuck in the center, right over the left eye of the skull pattern. What a weird calling card. “Pretty extra if you ask me. What’s so special about this girl, anyway?”

“She’s the niece of the senator,” He folded his arms, turning to look at the last of the sun as it sunk in the distance. “The higher-ups are breathing down my neck for results. I’m doing the best I can, but at the end of the day, I’m just a man.”

“Hmm,” I continued to flip through the pages, looking for any information that may be key items.

“You’ll be paid for your work, of course.” He commented, glancing at me from under the brim of his hat. “You’ll also have my eternal gratitude,”

“Eternal gratitude?” I echoed, slapping the folder closed. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Count me in.”

I saw the corner of his lips tugging up, but he held back the smile. “I’m counting on you, Winchester.”

“Yes, yes. Have I ever let you down in the past?” I asked, meeting his gaze. “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

“Just don’t make a national headline out of it like you did in New York.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” I scowled, standing up off the bench. “How the fuck was I supposed to know that a witch would show up to ruin my life?”

“I thought that was a typical day for you?” He raised a brow, an amused glint in his eye.

I pointed my index finger at him, ready to argue, but then I paused. “Fair point,”

He chuckled, patting my shoulder before turning and walking away. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Winchester! I might have to rethink my eternal gratitude.”

You grinned at his back before walking in the opposite direction, the file tucked under your arm.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You stepped into the police department, approaching the front desk. “I need to speak to Detective Kim,”

“Detective Kim isn’t in right now,”

“When will he be back?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t disclose that information. Would you like to leave a message for him?”

“No,” I scowled, turning around and exiting the station. I stopped on the steps, lighting up a cigarette. Where the hell was he? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for three days to no avail. It wasn’t like him to dodge my calls, especially when I’m working on a case. This wasn’t like him. Had something happened?

I walked down the steps, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“Winchester!”

“Heh?” I stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning to look at the man rushing down the steps. He was wearing a police uniform, but I didn’t recognize his face.

“You’re looking for Detective Kim, aren’t you?” He questioned, his brow furrowed.

“Depends who’s asking,”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he took off his hat. “My name is Rodriquez. I know you’re close to the Detective, that’s why I came after you.”

“Has something happened?” I questioned, giving him my full attention.

“I think so,” He frowned. “He hasn’t come to work in a week! The higherups are keeping it pretty hush-hush, or at least trying to, but I overheard Detective Niel talking about it. No one knows where he is. I went to his apartment yesterday and talked to his neighbors. They haven’t seen him either,”

The hell? I turned and started to walk away.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I scowled at him over my shoulder. “I’m going to find him,” I pulled my phone out as I walked away from the station, dialing his number for the umpteenth time. I didn’t expect him to answer, but I stopped when the line clicked.

A distorted voice came over the line. “Detective Kim is currently unavailable,”

Is this a fucking two-bit horror movie? What’s with the voice changer? I scowled, “Who is this?”

“You may call me N,”

Guess we’re passed using actual names. “And where is the Detective?”

“He is safe. For now,”

“What do you want with him?”

“That is of no concern to you,” The voice paused for a moment. “I wonder… can you find him?” The line went dead.

My hand clenched around the phone, cracking the screen. Son of a bitch doesn’t know who he’s messing with!

Okay, calm down and focus. Breathe – in and out. In and out.

I closed my eyes, picturing the apartment building that Seven lived in. I felt my body shifting like it had become a liquid swirling inside a tornado. The sound of wind whipped past my ears before suddenly stopping. It felt as if I was speeding fast and then suddenly came to a dead stop. When I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of the apartment building in Seoul, South Korea.

I tilted my neck right to left, cracking it. I’ve teleported so many times, but I don’t think I’d ever get used to the feeling.

I ran up the stairs to the third floor and banged on apartment number 412. It was late her in Seoul, around four in the morning. I banged louder, considering just picking the lock or kicking the door in.

The door opened, revealing a half-asleep Seven. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at me. “Boss?”

I pushed past him, stepping into the dark apartment. “I have a job for you,”

He stifled a yawn, shutting and locking the door. “Can I have a minute to wake up?”

“Make it a fast minute,” I ordered, watching him shuffle down the hall and into the bathroom. I opened his fridge, grabbing a can of soda and sitting down on the couch. He came back five minutes later, carrying his laptop, which he sat down on the table in front of the couch.

He entered the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. “What is it you need, boss?”

I pulled out my phone, dropping it onto the table beside his laptop. “I need you to track a number. Something tells me it’s being blocked, but if anyone can find it, it’s you.”

He raised a brow as he sat down on the floor, his back resting against the couch. “That’s… Detective Kim’s number, right?”

“Yeah. He’s been missing for a week according to a co-worker. I’ve been calling him for three days to update him on a case,” I explained, sitting back on the couch as he booted up the laptop. “I tried calling him again a few minutes ago after I left the police station. Someone answered, using a voice changer.”

“A voice changer?” He glanced back at me. “People actually do that?”

“Apparently,” I scoffed. The phone started to vibrate right as he picked it up.

Seven lifted the phone over his head and behind him. “It’s Dean,”

I slipped it out of his hand and pressed it to my ear. “Hey, Dean. What’s up?”

“Hey, kiddo. What are you up to?”

“Nothing. What do you need?”

“Me and Sammy are in Missouri and we need your help,”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ll be there soon,” I ended the call and handed the phone back to Seven. “Call Sam or Dean when you’ve traced the call.”

“Roger~”

I closed my eyes and concentrated again. The familiar feeling washed over me as I teleported.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[star-nova]

Memoirs, part 1: My birth story

It’s finally time to write my memoir. And yes, this is really about ME. This is not RiffRaff or any of my other fictional stories. This is my story. About me. And how everything eventually ended up going as wrong as it finally did. 

I’d been meaning to for a long time now. But everytime I tried to write it...I always just deleted it and gave up. I guess because the story wasn’t ready to come out and because I was worried what others would think of me if I came forward about this kind of thing. Would they be able to look at me the same again, and all that. But now even I don’t look at me the same again, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t have anything to lose, since I already lost everything I could possibly lose. So it’s time to face reality. And get it out there, too, because I can’t face it if I’m still trying to hide it.

I’m going to be plagued by the memories forever anyway. Might as well do something with them. Except this part is about what I can’t remember, and what someone else had to remember for me when I was finally old enough to put all the pieces together. I got Room of Angel going in the background and Walter Sullivan from Silent Hill 4 is a whole mood, so here it goes.

I didn’t get to hear my full, real birth story until I was in my late 20s--primarily because it took me that long to ask for it. When I was a kid, I accepted, “We had only wanted to have one baby, but then you came along.” As a teenager, I learned that I came after 2 other pregnancies that were terminated. Later on, I found out that I was nearly miscarried “early on in the pregnancy,” as my mother told me. She had to be on bed rest and take medications to keep me from sliding out of the womb, dead, two or three months in. Do you know how many times I’ve had to hear her say, “I wish I NEVER took those pills!”? It was a lot.

When I finally got my full birth story from my dad--who doesn’t hide anything, doesn’t sugarcoat, and has no problem telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth--he told me that my mother’s body actually attempted to terminate me throughout the entire pregnancy. To this day, it is one of those things that firmly cements that I was not ever supposed to exist. I feel like God knew that He had made a mistake, and he was trying to correct it. My mother had to keep running back to the hospital for the medication that would keep me from terminating. I asked what the medical explanation was, and my dad said that there wasn’t any, but that my mother’s body was never meant to carry babies. When she had my older brother, she was still very young--just turned 19--and her body was very small. It’s hard to imagine my mother as anything small now, but I’ve seen the old pictures. She was 19 and looked about 14, so tiny that I could barely even see the baby bump (which is odd, because baby bumps are usually more pronounced on a tiny body), about 100 ish pounds even with a baby (but I’m horrible at guessing weight, so she could’ve been bigger). The hospital had said her body was too small to support a baby, and when he was coming out, she didn’t even realize it was him coming out. She thought she had to “pee,” and she had gotten up to go to the bathroom when the doctors rushed her back to the bed and told her that wasn’t having to pee, that was him coming out. She almost died while giving birth, but he came out healthy. Can’t say that about him now, at 41. But that’s him. Now back to me. 

She was in her mid-30s when she had me, and my dad was in his 50s--he turned 60 when I was 8 years old, so I guess that puts him at 52 (I had to use a calculator for even that basic first grade math). She didn’t want to be pregnant again. She told me as much. I used to think I was a broken condom. Spent my whole life so sure that I was a broken condom, until my dad finally just told me that no, he just didn’t wear one because he didn’t like how they felt (now you know how those 4 pregnancies happened...my older brother was not planned either, my dad told me as much). I get jealous sometimes without wanting to admit I’m jealous of my older brother--who, other than this, has literally NOTHING for me to be jealous of--when I look at the pregnancy and baby pictures. She went to Great Adventure with my dad while she was pregnant with him, for her honeymoon. She looks genuinely happy, and it kills me how much her smile looks like mine in those pictures. I didn’t think I looked anything like her until I saw her at that age, her skin’s just darker than mine ‘cause she has no white in her. She’s happy in those pictures, and in the ones when she’s holding my brother and kissing him, so genuinely happy with her new baby, and my dad’s hair isn’t white, it’s the same color as mine. I’ve never seen him without white hair outside of pictures. Then there are the ones with me. In her pregnancy photo with me, her teeth are gritted like she is trying to force a smile, but failing stupendously. My older brother--age 13 and a half then but taller than her--is standing next to her, and his face is like stone. My dad said he never took it well that he was going to have a sibling. At 41, he still isn’t taking it well. She isn’t smiling in any of my baby pictures either. Her lips are tight like she’s trying to force something that just isn’t there. 

My birth was a trainwreck. After 8 months of near-miscarriages, her water broke while at the mall (I like to pretend that it was a harbinger of my lifetime clothes shopping addiction and love of the mall). She was rushed to the nearest hospital...and then I was a breech. 

My dad says that I came out feet first, that my head got stuck in the birth canal--about a 3 to 5 percent occurrence, according to Wikipedia--and that my cord was about to wrap around my throat. If she had pushed any further, it would have. I would have to be cut out, a C-section. 

My mother, a mentally impaired and traumatized woman who had every form of abuse possible inflicted on her in inner-city foster homes in the 70s, would have to be awake while she was cut open, while a team of doctors had to stick their hands inside of her body, and while her baby would have to be wrestled out of her. 

Except that isn’t even what happened. 

What happened is that she was cut open, and she was awake, and the doctors did stick her hands inside of her to wrestle me out of the womb...and then I wouldn’t come out. My dad says that I was lodged in a corner of the womb and the doctors couldn’t get me out, no matter how much they pulled. They had to employ the baby version of the jaws of life: the forceps. Knowing what I know now about the brain damage, which has been ruled as the result of abuse during the developmental years, I do wonder if any of that may have contributed at least a little bit, When you consider what forceps are, and where they go, and that it took a few yanks to get me out... 

But I may never know. Not even sure if that would show up on a brain scan anymore, if I could get one. My insurance won’t cover “I want to get a brain scan so I can see what it looks like.” I had one done at age 12 and then again at 14, but the results were hidden from me and when I called the labs to request them last year, they said they were trashed a long time ago. 

All it did was further the conclusion I had made that God was doing everything He could to correct the error that he had made. Until it was too late. 

I never stood a chance. It was all punishment. All of her life, my mother had been small and powerless in the face of horrific abuse that she could not do anything to stop. Now the “continuation” of her trauma--years after she had finally managed to “escape”--was small, powerless, and innocent itself. She unleashed everything that she had learned growing up in an inner-city foster system in the 70s, and knew exactly what to do to ensure that it would keep going on for as long as she needed it to in order to compensate for what was done to her. Like Abdul in Sapphire’s The Kid, when he was beaten and molested in the foster homes and then beat and molested the “smaller kids” in his orphanage, singling out the small ones specifically so he could “feel like a king.” 

I was doomed from the start. Destined to become a Nobody. And now, at almost 28, I am still very much doomed... 

[nonbinaryizutsumimoved]

i’ve been dreamin’ of you

pairing: tangfu (tang mo/fu wendou)

fandom: the earth is online

ao3 link

* spoilers for chapter 210

It was incredibly dark at this time of night. Shadows covered every corner of the room, making it impossible for even Tang Mo's enhanced vision to detect anything with sight alone, but his other senses didn't betray him.

The even lull of breaths gently resonated in his ears. The warmth of the body next to him was contagious, causing his whole body to ease into the heat. The subtle scent of lemons intermingled with sweat tingled his nostrils.

All aspects indicated Fu Wendou's presence.

His arms, strong and secure, were another indicator, wound firmly around Tang Mo's waist. Their breaths synchronized as they lay together, savoring this rare moment of solitude, of quiet. If it weren't for the weight of Tang Mo's newly obtained ability, Fu Wendou's ability, he could easily imagine that their circumstances were different, that they were back to before the Earth went online.

Tang Mo’s overactive mind entertained the thought of how it would have been.

They would have meet when neither of them could handle the anonymity anymore, of only having a name but no face, finally acquiescing to the unspoken desire to be near each other.

Back then, the both of them would show this desire through implicative remarks stating their availability and hints of when they were in the area, but it never went further.

Despite this dancing around, Tang Mo pictured the coy exchanges would have soon been replaced with more direct advances. Without the same sense of responsibility and distrust brought upon by the black tower’s world, they would have gotten together sooner, Tang Mo was sure of it.

When their glances lingered a little too long, it wouldn’t be because they were calculating, analyzing what the other’s next move would be. When they held hands, when they kissed, when they had sex, it wouldn’t be under the pretext of exchanging an ability. When they quietly confessed to each other, there wouldn’t be the burden that it could be the last time they say such words.

But the Earth went online. His now slightly built muscles and the scars that didn’t quite heal fast enough reminded him of that fact.

Tang Mo closed his eyes and released a deep sigh.

While his psychological resilience improved since the Earth went online, there was no doubt that he was still impacted by everything he encountered, plagued by the memories of what could have been. He simply buried the fallout of his and the rest of the world’s current situation deep inside, out of wanting to both represent stability to his peers and to fulfill the all-consuming need to survive, taking root in him since the very first game. He wasn’t to be held back by the ever-growing corpse count, on top of images of the horrors he witnessed in his day-to-day life. He adjusted similarly to how he proceeded when his parents died, but there were no funerals for lost people now. There wouldn’t be time to cry when it was all over, because in this version of reality, it seemed it would never be over.

Tang Mo was grounded by the sensation of a face nuzzling at the crook of his neck, his boyfriend’s lips gently pressing on the expanse of skin there. There wasn’t much of a need to sleep anymore, not since the Earth went online, so he knew Fu Wendou was awake. It was confirmed when the other’s inquiring voice reached his ears.

“Something wrong?”

Tang Mo opened his eyes, and while he couldn’t clearly see Fu Wendou, with being so in tune to the other’s mannerisms and expressions, he sensed one of his eyebrows was quirked downward, forming a crease on his forehead. Tang Mo smiled, albeit embittered by his prior thoughts, and turned fully so he faced the other man. This time, Tang Mo tipped his head, resting the side of his face atop the other’s shoulder. The words he muttered dripped with the same bitterness he carried in his smile.

“Just thinking too much. Even in moments like these, I can’t really relax. At night, I usually pretend to fall asleep and let my mind go blank for a couple hours or even sometimes manage to get some rest, but when I’m with you like this, I can’t stop thinking… which isn’t usually a problem, but it’s different this time. Maybe I just feel so comfortable, like how it was before, that I let myself linger on the more difficult thoughts I have yet to confront.”

Fu Wendou lifted one of his hands from the other’s waist and traced it up his back to nestle it between some stray locks. His slender fingers toyed with a particularly curly piece of hair, and a quiet, contemplative hum settled in his throat. Fu Wendou said himself that he wasn’t sure what qualified as comforting, but the gesture could be read as such. At least, it was able to make Tang Mo feel somewhat placated.

“What are the difficult thoughts?”

Tang Mo glanced upwards, where he pictured the ceiling was.

“Everything about our lives since the Earth went online. It’s so overwhelming. It feels like when I got Eve’s Reward again, like my head is going to explode. The only difference is with Eve’s Reward, I forgot everything soon after I woke up. My memories of the instances, the monsters, the people that have died… I carry it with me, in the back of my mind, always. I just push it down because there’s other things to focus on in the moment, but now that I’m just laying here, on top of thinking of facing the sixth floor tomorrow too... I don’t know, it’s just all coming to a head finally.”

Fu Wendou figured it was better not to speak at this time. While he shared similar thoughts, he might try to rationalize Tang Mo's concerns if he were to talk it out. But how could he form reason out of all this death, all this tragedy? There was no logic to any of it --- it was just the cruel state of reality now. Any of his attempts at what could be interpreted as reassurance would be pretty pointless, since they would ultimately be hollow words, a temporary answer to a persistent problem. Plus, Fu Wendou assumed that wasn’t exactly what Tang Mo needed right now, to hear what Fu Wendou was certain the other already knew. While this was a moment of vulnerability for Tang Mo, he wasn’t naive when it came to the state of the world now, ever familiar with everyone's self-serving attitude and twisted morality, of the crushing weight of their impermanence.

So, Fu Wendou lay there, continuing his movements in his boyfriend's hair, because that's all he could do.

Without any interruptions from Fu Wendou, Tang Mo decided to continue his explanation, blinking a couple times first, then taking a steadying breath as he continued.

“... I was also thinking about us. Of how differently things could have turned out without the towers.”

Tang Mo imagined Fu Wendou’s brows crinkling upwards as he paused his movements in Tang Mo’s hair.

“What was different?”

“Well, we were just less restricted. We weren’t overly cautious or dutiful in the way we are now. We were kind of painfully mundane in comparison. We certainly weren’t constantly bracing to face a pyramid of death, murderous fairytale creatures, and the equivalent of the X-Men around every corner.”

His eyes lowered to where he pictured Fu Wendou’s face was, envisioning the other’s wry smile.

After a couple minutes of the words hanging in the air between them, Tang Mo was certain Fu Wendou fell asleep, or at least left the conversation at that. Tang Mo didn’t necessarily mind, especially since it was kind of ridiculous to entertain the scenario based on their present lifestyle. So, Tang Mo was surprised when Fu Wendou finally spoke, a certain surety in his tone.

“Maybe we’ll have that chance to go back someday. It probably won’t ever be the same as it was before, that’s just impossible at this point, but I know you know that. Still, maybe one day we can have a semblance of that life. Together, we could pick the pieces up of what’s left and figure something out. Whatever we make of it, I want to be there to see it through.”

Despite the obvious optimism of such a possibility at the face of the end of the world, a reassuring feeling struck Tang Mo’s heart, spreading through the rest of his chest. It reached his smile too, some hopefulness seeping into his previously sour expression. As foolish as it probably was, for some reason, Tang Mo believed him.

Of course, while he remained troubled by all which permeated his thoughts, this was a brief reprieve. As Fu Wendou said, he already knew that it would never be that simple for them, that it was impossible for them to have anything like before the black towers, and that it also wasn’t guaranteed they’d even make it past the sixth floor, but he still wanted to guard that small promise of the future.

Tang Mo rearranged his arms so that they loosely encircled Fu Wendou’s neck. He leaned close to where he thought Fu Wendou’s face was, going based on where the other’s breath tickled his skin. He was unable to resist the urge to press a kiss to where Fu Wendou’s lips might be, but instead hit the corner of his mouth. At Tang Mo’s own miscalculation, a small bubble of laughter slipped past his lips. Fortunately, Fu Wendou guessed what Tang Mo sought for, and this time, they both leaned in, Tang Mo’s laughter smothered by their kiss. By the time Tang Mo parted, not without peppering other parts of Fu Wendou’s face -- his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his chin -- and trailing some down his neck, he rested his head against his chest, then nodded and finally replied.

“I want to see it through, too.”

His hands now gently brushed those strands of hair at the nape of Fu Wendou's neck. The movements gradually slowed after a couple minutes until they eventually stilled completely.

While there wasn't a need for sleep, Tang Mo felt his eyes grow heavier and the numbing feeling of approaching slumber tickle the edges of his consciousness. Perhaps the fatigue of his overthinking, the events of this past week, or their previous activities hit him all at once. On the other hand, maybe he was just relishing in the feeling of the plush mattress, his companion’s sturdy body flush against his own, and the soothingly pleasant vision of a far-off future. In his own bed, he never felt so peaceful, so comfortably warm, or at least, he couldn't recall those times anymore. No matter the source of his exhaustion, he would succumb soon.

Before he dozed off completely, sleep-heavy words escaped him.

"Thank you, Victor. I love you, you know."

Fu Wendou smiled, genuine joy contained within his expression. They knew they loved each other; even if their minds were uncertain in the turbulent months leading up to now, their hearts always knew. To finally hear such a phrase spoken aloud was like sealing some truth of their fate, that they would have ended up like this no matter the circumstances. At the thought, he allowed his eyes to close contentedly.

They would attack the sixth floor tomorrow. This might be the last time they have a moment like this --- to lay in bed together, to hold each other, to sleep, to pretend, to fulfill what they quietly yearned for in the several months long past. So, Fu Wendou imprinted this memory into his mind, of the sensations and the conversation, and eased against Tang Mo’s form, slowly pulled under by a wave of drowsiness. Softly, he reciprocated his boyfriend’s sentiment.

"I know. I love you too, Mo Tang."

Once the response passed through Fu Wendou’s lips, the only sounds in the room were the ebbing inhales and exhales carrying the night into morning.

[unequippedwit]

An Informal and Incomplete Essay on One Fangirl’s Feelings and Descent into Mo Dao Zu Shi

So, if you’ve even glanced at my blog of late you’ve noticed a lot of dolphin screeching in regards to a series called The Untamed/Chén Qíng Lìng/陈情令.  Or, something else called  Mó Dào Zǔ Shī/魔道祖师.  (Hint, they’re mostly sort of the same thing as The Untamed is MDZS’s live action drama with a whole ass stable of attractive).

Someone on my dash had done a recommendation list of things that they had watched and enjoyed and I made the glorious mistake of looking at the summary given, shrugged my shoulders, and said “Why not?”.  I proceeded to change my entire life simply by turning on my PS4, tap-tapping my way to YouTube, and settling my behind in my easy chair where the cat and my knitting proceeded to fight for space.

I’m not going to say how many hours total that I’ve spent to watching/listening to the various adaptations (the 50 episode drama, the 23 episodes released of the donghua, and the first season of the audio drama), or reading the manhua, or reading the OG novel, but, I am going to say it’s a lot.  Yes, I’ve calculated it and no I’m not telling.  Oh, hecking heck it is a lot.  And, considering that I’ve only really been into it since the beginning of August, well, even I’m impressed and I know how I can get in regards to hyper-fixation.  I’m so glad that I have also dragged my BFF along for the ride.

I can say with some confidence that a part of the reason why I have done a full sprint down into this magnificent madness, as I cackled with glee and mass binge postings of gorgeous fanart, memes, and Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan’s faces, is that I was semi-floundering in the MCU fandom and post-release of Endgame, even more so.  There had been a lingering sense of fatigue and this was needed.  The fandom, for all that it is a fandom with its own faults and no fandom ever escapes them, is refreshing and new and a joy in a way that the MCU has been missing for me for quite some time.

Now, as to what actually kept me engaged I’m going to cut, because there’s A LOT and it’s going to get long folks.  And a smidgen spoilery.

On the surface, the plot itself is simple.  A supernatural who-dunit and where-is-it, a large and eclectic cast of characters, with two main leads who fit the one goes by-the-book and other is a renegade trope to perfection.

Then the series actually starts with the MC’s horrorific violence filled death, a bunch of vicious gossip, and someone waking up in a body that sure the heck ain’t theirs.  Simple?  Not so much and that’s just the first chapter.

And, oh, god, the characters in this series are just everything little ol’ me could want.  Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have catapulted themselves to I STAN levels in my hierarchy of Favorite Fictional Characters and even secondary characters make me cry/scream/laugh/*insert every other emotion* on a level I haven’t experienced in a very long time.  I would die for Wen Ning, any version.

In this cast we get several sets of foils and a whole host of morally grey characters.  No one, with the possible exception of the Juniors in the present timeline, are not guilty of at least something.  Our protaganist, Sunshine Idiot Genius Hero Wei Wuxian has caused the death of 3000-5000 fellow cultivators, dug up countless graves, and risen the dead at a level that’s, well, not been seen by me in any sort of fictional setting that has necromancers.  Look, I like stories with necromancers.  He is also someone who doesn’t hesitate to do what is right, loves his family and his friends, and a lot of the above actions were in direct relation to him wanting to protect those that are precious to him.

With such a set of complicated characters I get a whole murderboard worthy set of complicated relationships and often complicated motiviations that make me want to cry tears of emotion.  Wait, no, backtrack that as there is no want, I have cried tears of various emotions as something else is discovered or thought about or I see someone giving me some good, good meta to chew on.  Yunmeng Twin Heroes being one potent source of me wailing, “MAH BABIES” while clutching at my face is a good example.  Jiang Cheng is such a misunderstood character.

Know what relationship is both complicated and not at the same time?  WangXian.  As in the relationship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.  As in the romantic relationship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.  As in these two Idiots wandered off and got married at the end of the novel and fucked by the side of the road for their first time and we learn that our strong and stoic Hanguang-Jun is one kinky motherfucker and Wei Wuxian is really that guy and doesn’t shut up during sexy times.  Considering that he doesn’t shut up during the rest of the time, it shouldn’t be that surprising, but, really, the man is missing a filter.  Look at the exasperated Xiao Zhan videos of The Untamed BTS where he’s complaining about the number of pages he has per scene.

But, it took time for them to get there.  It took years of hardship and anger and miscommunication and death, including Wei Wuxian’s in the beginning, to get them to the point that they are.  I won’t wax poetic about Lan Wangji, other’s who word better than I have already said so many good things about how he is fundamentally a Good Person and I won’t hear a bad word said about him and the fact that there a number of people who thought he was the villain in The Untamed for a good part of it make me cry for humanity.  Okay, I’ll wax a little poetically about him.  But, the man has his faults.  He’s not very verbal and that can and does cause problems, like leading to Wei Wuxian to believing that he hates him through most of their past, especially as they start hurtling towards the end of his first life.

I know I’m missing a lot, like how there is no true villain of the story other than people being at their worst and allowing that to lead so many of their actions.  But, really, I’m just going to go back to screaming about WangXian and sharing memes.  Oh, and a few recs because the writers in this fandom?  Fucking Aces all around.

<u>Fic Recs</u>

Five Times Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng Had a Civil Conversation, and One Time They Didn't by tabulaxrasa      Summary:  *Does what it says on the tin*Wei Wuxian's life is almost perfect now. There's just that one, angry, purple hole in it. If only there was some way to fix it.(There is. It's using their words.)     Reason I love it:  The relationship between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian is almost as important to me as the the one between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and this gives me hope that there is a future for the two of them at the end of the novel.  That things can get better, never back to the way that it was because too much has happened, but they can reach a Good Place and that’s everything really.

Monotone by Seredemia

    Summary: Wei Wuxian died. Wei Wuxian died and he never came back, not after thirteen years, or a hundred, or a thousand. The year is 2019 and Lan Wangji is still here, having reached the highest point of cultivation that has gifted him with immortality. It's supposed to be a gift, an honour, yet to him it's nothing but a curse.

Wei Wuxian is dead, and life is colourless. Lan Wangji ghosts through time, simply living each day in monotone.

That is, until he meets a man who has the same face, same name, same smile as Wei Wuxian. Suddenly, there's colour and hope back in his life—but it's not long until he realises Wei Wuxian in this timeline has not escaped the sorrow that plagued his past self.

Maybe history really does repeat itself after all.

     Reason I love it:  It’s epic.  Not only in length, but in how everything is put together.  The past parallels the future in all the right ways with certain things coming together to make me cry happy tears as I clutch my cat in my arms.  And, let’s not forget Lan Wangji and his haircut.

Perfectly Arranged by Mondengel

     Summary:  Three nights before his wedding to an omega from Yunmeng, Lan Wangji meets Wei Yuandao.

     Reason I love it:  I have a fondness for ABO.  I’ve long stopped being ashamed of my enjoyment of it and I love even more when I find an ABO that gives me arranged marriages that stay so true to the characters.  Even just this little slice of life, gives us something close to the actual meeting of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian and it makes me so happy that their happiness is well and truly implied at the end of this.

Now, there about a thousand other things to be read that one should when it comes to this fandom, I’ve only thrown a few grains of rice to show what has been feeding my appetite, but, no seriously.  The fic is so good guys.  I think I’m actually going to start throwing up recs on the regular because gaaaaahhhhh and I’m going to go read some now that I’m done word vomiting.

[fish-food-s]

Septum

Words: 2174

Warnings: Major character death, blood, the R slur, cursing, unsympathetic deceit, lots of angst, let me know if I should add anything else.

A/N: This is heavily based off of a youtube video called Septum by Hazel Hayes. I used the same story and really similar characters. Please go check it out!

---

“In front of you is a pill. Within the next twenty-five minutes, one of you must take the pill. If, after twenty-five minutes, no one has taken it, you will all die. Survivors will all win their share of $50,000,000. Good luck.”

Logan scanned the room. A digital clock was installed into the wall, counting down from twenty-five minutes. It contrasted the rest of the electronic free room, being the only source of light that wasn’t a dim yellow lamp against the worn out walls. A security camera was nestled in the top corner of the room, watching them from afar. He and four others sat at a small table filled with little cookies and fruits, along with a single white pill, cushioned neatly on a tiny, fancy box, opened and up for anyone to take.

The man reading the note, Logan knew him as Patton, put down the piece of paper and licked his lips in nervousness.

“Charming,” one man commented, fear evident behind his confident-ridden eyes.

“Would anyone like me to read it again?” Patton asked, unsure. Everyone solemnly shook their heads; Patton nodded and put the note away.

Logan cleared his throat, it being rougher than he anticipated. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I’ll go first,” He was met with no objection, “I am Logan, and I feel it would be unfair if I did not mention that I already know Patton,” Logan stated, nodding in Patton’s direction.

“Yes. Hello Logan,” Patton admitted, sheepishly

A man in a black bowler hat furrowed his brows. “Did you know that you’d see each other here?” He questioned.

The two shook their heads. “No. We were friends in school but lost touch when departing. Seeing Patton here came as quite a shock,” he explained.

“Yeah. We haven’t spoken in, like, ten years,” Patton agreed. The man with the hat nodded suspiciously.

“Well, It would definitely add to the show, with all the drama and such,” said the confident man. Logan thought about it for a moment before nodding, remembering that this was in front of an audience.

“Well,” Logan started, “There is not much to know about me. I am married, and we have a daughter. We are signing the divorce papers currently, though. It simply did not work the way we planned. I am a nurse, by the way. It is what I’ve wanted to do since childhood, and I quite enjoy meeting such a diverse set of people from the occupation. There is truly so much to learn from them.” He dipped his head, signifying he was done.

“I guess I’ll go next,” Patton decided through the silence. “I’m Patton, and I’m studying to be an architect. I love traveling and seeing what humanity could make with just a few materials in hand. I’m planning on climbing Kilimanjaro. Which I know seems a bit...” he gestured to his wheelchair, “It won’t be easy, but I’m going to try my hardest.” He smiled proudly.

“Hello, I am Roman,” the next man announced, the same one that spoke with a fragile arrogance, “I am an incredibly charming and witty, and downright devilishly handsome man-” the man in the hoodie next to Roman laughed, “-When I was young I wanted to be a Disney prince, but I settled on being a writer instead, everyone insisted that you couldn't have something that didn’t exist. I do not believe anyone gave a reason for being here, but I came because the cash would help greatly in writing and publishing my novel.”

“You came here for a novel?” Logan confirmed, “That’s admirable.”

Roman nodded, flashing a wavering smile, “I am also quite a fan of this show, another reason I decided to come.”

Logan nodded and everyone’s head turned to a rather dark character. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” Logan asked, leaving silence for his name.

“Virgil,” His deep voice surprised everyone, “And no thanks. I’m good.”

The hat man scoffed. “It’s not like he’s offering you a snack”

Virgil rolled his eyes that were painted with shadows, “Yeah, I’m not giving you some sob story to get you to feel sorry for me. We all got problems, next,” he made a swiping motion with his hands, gesturing to the last man.

The man in the bowler hat sighed. “Well, I am Vincent,” he spoke, his voice smooth and calculated, “I dropped out of school at grade seven and started my own business. I have been under my own employment ever since.”

“Yes, cause someone like you definitely needs the money,” Roman signed. Vincent shook his head and looked away, as if too worthy for his contributions.

“So, that is all of us. How shall we do this?” Logan asked, ignoring the rising feeling of sickness in his gut.

Vincent lifted his head to meet Logan’s eyes. “Let’s do a vote. It doesn't have to be official, we’ll just test the waters and go from there,” he suggested. Everyone made some noise of agreement.

“Yeah, we won't do it unless it’s unanimous. Well, if four people vote for the same person. Obviously, we won't get all five of us to vote together,” Patton added with a touch of forced humor.

“Okay, I will start with me,” Logan stated, “And go clockwise from there. By a show of hands, who votes for me to take the pill?” No one raised their hand.

“Patton?”

“Roman?” Vincent raised his hand.

“Virgil?” Roman, Logan, and Patton raised their hands, the ladder quite sheepishly.

“Vincent?” Virgil raised his hand.

“Okay, that’s one each for Vincent and Roman, and three for Virgil,” Logan finished, feeling nausea take over.

There was a beat of silence

“Let's take a break and come back in a moment. To think about the vote,” Patton suggested, guilt plaguing his voice.

“Excellent idea, Patton,” Logan agreed, and with that, everyone turned to talk amongst themselves.

Logan approached Patton, smiling at the familiar face. “It is quite strange seeing you here,” he commented.

“Yeah, you too,” Patton said, laughing forcefully.

“Now that the first voting has finished, everything has become all too real,” Logan confessed, looking on to the others.

Patton nodded solemnly.

“May I ask why you voted for me?” Virgil turned his head to see Vincent facing him, pleading with his eyes. “I mean, I know we all have to vote for someone, but if I did anything that caused you to be upset, my apologies,” he said almost sincerely.

“To be honest, I just think you’re kind of a dick,” Virgil said bluntly. Roman chuckled. Vincent snarled and turned away.

Everyone slowly made their way back to their seat, and a silent tension was reset in the air. Logan cleared his throat. “I suppose we could vote again. Anonymously this time,” Logan suggested. Patton began to take strips of paper out.

“Wait,” Roman announced, “Virgil are you sure you don’t want to share your story?” he asked.

Virgil looked down. “Well, if you really want to hear it. My dad died when I was seven. It’s just me and my mom. She’s absolutely perfect. You know those moms you see in magazines or movies? Always baking and always supportive? That's my mom. She, uh, she’s sick. Like, sick sick. I came here cause I thought I could-” he covered his eyes, whimpering. “I can’t...” His whimpers turned to low laughs, “I can’t believe you guys fell for that shit.”

Everyone sighed in disbelief. “You sure are something,” Vincent spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What a wonderful performance!” Roman commented, lifting his glass of wine to Virgil. The actor imitated a bow.

“Can’t you take anything seriously?” Vincent growled at Roman.

“Can’t you take that stick out your ass? It’s not a good look,” Roman shot back. Virgil chuckled.

“Look, I’m just saying that we can’t judge someone so quickly in just twenty-five minutes based off each other sob stories,” Virgil stated, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, and you could never know who’s telling the truth,” Roman agreed.

“Who’s side are you on?” Vincent growled.

“My own.”

“What an awful side.”

“Okay. okay, lets vote,” Patton said suddenly, passing five strips of paper around, “If four of the votes are the same, that will be the decision,” Each wrote a name on their slip before passing it back to Patton.

Patton unfolded each and read them out loud. “Virgil. Virgil. Vincent. Virgil… Vincent.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You just got us all killed! We were one vote away from getting out alive!” Vincent lashed out, looking directly at Roman, “You just fucked it all up!” Roman shook his head and chuckled. “What is this for your book? Trying to get a good story out of it?”

“Oh, please.”

“What, you think this is a joke? We’re all going to die because of you!”

“That’s enough-” Virgil stepped in.

“Oh, now he talks! You just stay silent and wait until one of us becomes the antagonist? Well, you did a great job at that!” He seethed, lightly clapping his hands.

“It’s not like I have some strategy to this! I came here for money that I need. I’m here to vote and feel awful about all of it, but I am not begging anyone for sympathy in the process. My shit hole of a life is not going to be my excuse to live.”

“It was me...”

“What?” Vincent demanded.

Patton looked down. “I voted for you...”

“What the hell is wrong with you people? The moment I walked through the door you all hated me!”

“I’ll take that apology when you’re ready”

“Fuck off!”

Vincent stood up and walked to the end of the table. “Since we cannot reach an agreement, I suggest the majority takes the pill. Virgil?”

“Wait that is not what we decided on,” Logan argued, “We need to take another vote just to be sur-”

“Are you fucking retarded or something?” Vincent snapped. The room went cold. “No, that’s not what I meant-”

“You’ve been nothing but trouble all night,” Roman said, standing up to meet Vincent, “You claim you’re some rich business owner, but I’m calling bullshit. You’re just a liar with a bad attitude and a bad-”

Roman couldn't finish the sentence with Vincent's fist to his nose. Logan caught him as he fell backward, and Virgil stood up to level with Vincent. He almost took another blow when Virgil looked up, Vincent following his gaze to the security camera. To where millions of people are watching them. Virgil turned around to help Roman stop seeing stars.

Patton glance at the clock. Only a minute left. “Logan, we’re running out of time.” His voice was on the edge of sobs.

“Okay, another vote, with a show of hands this time, majority rules. I will start with me,” Logan stated, “And go clockwise from there. Who votes for me to take the pill?” No one raised their hand.

“Patton?”

“Roman?”

“Virgil?”

“Vincent?” Everyone but Vincent raised their hand.

“Vincent you have to vote,” Patton pleaded.

“Doesn’t matter,” Roman spat, holding his nose, “he’s dead.”

“No, he should vote,” Logan argued

“Vincent just take the pill!” Virgil yelled. Vincent did nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Logan apologized sincerely, “But you have to take it.”

Vincent sat down in his spot, eyeing the pill. He leaned in, almost reaching it, before retreating back into his seat. The clock ticked from a minute to fifty-nine seconds.

Screams of resentment flooded the room. Patton wordlessly sobbed as he held his head in his hands. Logan stood up and eyed the pill, circling the table. Ten seconds. He reached his hand for the pill and dry swallowed the tablet before anyone could resist. The room went silent.

“No!” Patton screamed, pushing his chair over to logan and clutching the hem of his shirt, “Logan you didn’t have to do that!” The timer hit zero. Logan lowered himself to Patton’s level as the man cried into his chest. “Why did you do that...” he whimpered, sobbing.

Patton pulled away slightly and wiped at his nose, noticing the blood it left on his finger. Vincent, wide-eyed, turned to Roman, who had begun to cough up blood. He tested the tip of his finger at his own nostril, fainting at the sight of blood on his index finger. Virgil looked in horror at Roman. “It was an antidote,” the writer whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut and held out his hand. “Could you… could you hold my hand?”

Virgil wordlessly sat down and took Roman’s hand in his, watching the man take his last breath, knowing his own would come soon. He stood up and separated their hands, before making his way to Logan, who was now cradling a half-dead Patton. Without saying anything, he leaned his head on Logan’s shoulder and fell into darkness, Patton joining him soon after.

Logan, now surrounded by bodies, looked up as the walls opened to a bright white light, revealing a cheering audience that only made his tears burn more.

---

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[mintemps]

unloved letters | pjm

pairing :: park jimin / reader 

genre :: break up!au, angst 

word count :: 3.2k 

note :: this is the first time i’m posting a fic on this site and it’s my first story i’ve ever written in years (since c. 2014/15?), so please let me know what you think! this story was inspired by Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler and Maira Kalman and i recommend it if you haven’t heard of it before 💕 

You sat at the edge of your bed, somewhat overwhelmed. Thoughts teetered on a thin string of happiness and apprehension. Fond memories turned into shadows of a distant stranger, a bittersweet heaviness creates its home in your chest. Fumbling with ripped notebook pages, you decide that one more thorough read of the scrawled blue ink would be enough.

Hey love,

Dear Jimin,

It’s been months since things ended between us and by the time that you open this letter I would have already left for Busan. You’ve probably picked up the cardboard box I’ve mailed this letter with, its contents softly rattling as you take it into your home; you’ll find bits and pieces of the relationship we shared for the past few years in it and although I’m thankful for the rollercoaster memories they contain, I decided it best to return them to you instead.

Maybe by the time this gets to you, you’re already at the studio while Hoseok brings this pathetic box in for you. He’ll probably be confused, thinking it’s some weird gift from a fan instead and will debate whether it should just be thrown away before setting it on your kitchen counter. You will possibly get this box at the worst of times, maybe right before your world tour begins and have our memories you’ve suppressed into nothingness crash into you like violent waves meeting shore time and time again, abruptly just as you had ended things months ago. You told me things would be okay but you

The dull thud of this box as its dropped from the front of your doorstep, to your counter, and hopefully right into your room, is for you. As much as you would like to avoid the repercussions of what had happened, the thud serves as a reminder that there is so much more for you to unpack than meekly accepting that your heart is broken. Namjoon and Hoseok still check up on me like you should have been doing, but instead you decided it best to disappear, didn’t you?

You were one of my only lifelines in Seoul and now it feels odd to find home in a city where all you could think about is where things had gone wrong. The dregs of our relationship come to follow me wherever I go, and it hurts knowing that these memories replay without you by my side. It makes me wonder if you’ve been suffering as much as I have. It had been isolating to feel so assured that you were going to come back, at least in some way, yet it’s like you never existed instead. As if the moments stretched between us have stretched itself to nothingness, years turned into paper-thin fibres. The time I fell in love with this city was the time I fell in love with you, and I remember clutching your hand with anxiety bubbling in my chest, white noise ringing in my ears, as we took the train to Seoul for the first time together. Jimin, you have come so far from where you began. Didn’t I tell you that you deserved better than what home offered you?

At your place back in Busan, you stared at me in the middle of your room, “I’m so nervous, but you have them printed out right?”

“Yeah I do,” I laughed a bit and waved the freshly printed train tickets in front of you. You were almost entirely swallowed by your black hoodie, snapback slightly off, but were too busy frantically running around your room, looking for your phone and ID.

Then you stared at the papers I had in my hand, almost boring holes into them.

“I’m so nervous.” We weren’t even at the station yet.

“Clearly.”

“Wait, aren’t you nervous too?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to freak you out more.”

“HEY IT’S NOT THAT BAD.” You were always such a whiny baby, but that didn’t help my lame attempt of suppressed laughter.

“Whatever you say.” Then you gave me that annoyed look, but you still took my hand when we got to the station. Our parents wished us luck, that they would visit if we were both successful… And sometime after, they did.

As we were approaching Seoul, you squeezed my hand tighter. I had the window seat, but I looked up at you, “I think you’ll be okay… You know you can do it, I know you can do it—you deserve it more than anyone I know.”

“I guess, but I just wish I could audition with you or be there, you know?” You tell me, saying it as your thumb grazes my hand a bit more fondly. It was oddly quiet, almost like we were the only ones there.

“Me too, but just know you’ll make it… I just know you will. Hopefully I make it, too.”

Then you didn’t hesitate to correct me, without skipping a beat—“You? Not making it? Doubt it. You were recommended for a reason.”

“But this is the National Company! I don’t even know if I’ve prepared enough. Well anyway, this was recommended for you too.” Then you shook your head, almost like you were shrugging the doubts off my shoulders and smiled at me, eyes crinkling to small moons, like they always did. The ticket is here for you now. You can’t use it to take you back to that time or back home, but I can leave it here to remind you where you came from.

The pitter-patter of the rain can’t help but make me smile right now—you did it. It’s a cold comfort, somewhat literal, as the breeze blankets me into a now-familiar embrace. It used to be your arms instead, enveloping me in your warmth and kissing away the tears and the fears that plagued my mind. Loving crescent-like shapes replaced by the cold distance of the night sky’s.

It reminds me of the first few times you began to leave Korea for tours. Although you told me I could’ve gone with you, I couldn’t leave in the midst of rehearsals for our showcase at the National Company. They made me one of their grand soloists that year, perfecting my routine was a priority and it made me wish you were there with me or that I was there with you… somehow. The brief phone calls and the oddly timed ones (thanks time zones) weren’t enough sometimes. Staying up wearing one of your shirts on a video call wasn’t enough sometimes. And somehow, we made it work… We caught up whenever you were back home, times where you’d surprise me during rehearsal or asking me to lunch when I thought you’d still be someplace else. Nights where we would stay up, talking about the things we missed while watching a movie in your room or mine; days where things would get serious and doubts began to cloud our conversations, concluded with tears being wiped by the other; comforting words and gestures.

The longer time we held on, the less time we had for each other. The more success we found in our respective fields, the less present we were for each other. Comfortable silence began to ebb away and replace itself with hesitant touches and calculated movements. We tiptoed around each other’s feelings rather than holding each other through the tears. We made it work, we tried to make it work, and then it didn’t. So, here’s your shirt back.

It used to be a thin veil of cotton comfort, casing me in its threads while you were gone. Then as time passed, it didn’t feel right anymore, like it wasn’t sufficient enough to sew the loosened ends of the uncertainties that came with this relationship. I love you no less, but it made me question if it was worth it, and I know at some point you felt it too.

Maybe it was my mistake being someone in a city too big to shelter their being, who knew absolutely nothing but the comfort from your smile, the seclusion of mirrored walls and the too-bright lights illuminating the too-big stage. It consumed me in its vastness, swallowing me up before I could take the last few steps to exit their expanse. Perhaps we were just love that had gone cold, too comfortable and too afraid to address how things were falling apart in front of us. I want to apologise for the things the boys had to go through, picking up the pieces that you should have been picking up after leaving me without explanation, but why should I apologise on your behalf anymore?

On that same thought, why should I keep these? Each photo you find in this box feels ten times heavier now that they’re memories I don’t want to remember. From the photos we shared at my first showcase, to yours, to our group photos when we still performed together, and the album of polaroids I started with you after our first anniversary… I shouldn’t keep these, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them away.

“Y/N! Do you want to go to the amusement park with us today?” Taehyung had asked me. We were all trainees back then so we couldn’t stay too long. We took too many photos at the photo booth together though, ones of just us and ones with everyone else too. Dahae and Jiyoung were there to keep me company whenever the girls and the boys split up. I remember leaving with them before you because we had training earlier than you did, I also remember we couldn’t hold hands because your company was already starting to promote Bangtan through social media. They didn’t exactly know about me either, so by the time I showed up backstage for your debut showcase, they thought I was some family member, a cousin maybe? Well, until you kissed me in front of everyone else in the room… yeah, that didn’t add up huh? Thanks for being subtle, babe.  

I hope you remember each memory, each photo in detail. Knowing you, you probably do. I know I couldn’t forget them for a reason either.

When times were rough, you had told me that we were pulling a 70-30; that I had to try harder than what I was capable of rather than understanding what I was going through. You disguised it as communication, rather than admitting to yourself that it was a roundabout way of telling me you wanted to end things. You began to believe that you were the only one who bore the weight of our problems, but I was with you with every step of the way, even when the distance and the hours between us had to fluctuate as Bangtan began to reach heights unimagined. Maybe we were both too stubborn to let each other go… because we both knew what we had to do. It was time to let go.

Your hand had held mine then, guiding it in your so-called expertise. The arcade lights were full of life. It felt unreal to be with you then, brimming with laughter, giddy with nervousness but surrounded by a silence that only existed in the world we created together.

Our face masks were on, but for a brief second, you had kissed my forehead without it. Success from what seemed like the tenth or eleventh attempt for the small plushie, “I told you I was a pro.”

I raised my eyebrow, laughing, “What type of pro has to try more than ten times to win?”

“Hey, practise makes perfect.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

“I don’t know who that is and whose plushie that is but from what I know it isn’t yours anymore.”

“Really?” I rolled my eyes, you were so petty. “Hmm, babe? Does that sound better?”

“Yep.” You passed the small bear to me, holding my hand until we left the arcade and its silence.  

I’m letting you go. Just like the claw finally loosened its hold from the prize, after what seems like the tenth try, it’s time. It’s only fair, the world’s equilibrium once shifted, and now it’s reclaiming itself, slowly falling back into its place.

I never want to be the person in the way of you achieving what you’ve deserved all your life, that would be hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it? But as the time rolled onwards, I faded into the background as your spotlight began to shine brighter. I never imagined being that disposable to you.

Disposable like how you threw away bus and movie tickets we’ve had over the years from our dates. Maybe my sentimental ass just thought it would be a great idea to hoard them to look back together, but that isn’t an option anymore. I kept all of mine anyway, except for ones that flew away in the chill of autumn winds; ones that have made themselves a part of the streets we’ve walked together. Somewhere their remnants are there, someplace else they’re no longer in existence, just like what we have now.

At least the boys had the decency to call me while I was alone in Seoul and all I got from you was half-assed updates via Kakao Talk. Tour was hard, you told me you needed space and I gave you that. You and Hoseok had death threats sprout out of nowhere during the tour, you stopped answering my FaceTime calls during that time… was it unreasonable for me to be scared?

“Dahae, he’s not picking up.”

“Y/N, he’s probably tired… didn’t you talk last night?”

“No. That was Tae, and with all of these death threats I’m seeing I can’t help but get worried? I don’t know, I know he’s probably safe, but I miss him, and we just don’t talk anymore.”

“Long distance is hard, you both knew that it was going to happen.”

“And we’ve been okay for years… but that’s the thing, you know? We’re just okay? Like it’s just mundane or weird now, sometimes I even question if he still wants to be with me. It’s like he’s just saying we’re still together because it’s what’s familiar.”

“Well, do you still love him?”

“Is that even a question? Of course, I do. It just makes me wonder if he still does if he doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

“Hmm, I don’t know Y/N. It seems like you know what you have to do.”

I didn’t even know you were back in Korea that week until Jungkook had asked to get food with me. You barely responded to any of our messages and Jungkook said he barely saw you around, maybe it was paranoia and the insecurities starting to creep up on me, but wouldn’t that seem odd to you, too? The next time we saw each other, it was by accident, I was talking to Taehyung about us and you had walked in the middle of our conversation.

The tension in the room was indescribable, then pent-up frustration and anger bubbled in my chest, “How do you feel about us?” It made me feel so small and vulnerable to ask you, I felt like my paranoia was something that should have been blamed on me for not being enough.

A screaming spree cut through the air. Yoongi had to calm us down, either for our benefit or for his, to continue sleeping, I’m not sure, but I can tell you with 100% assurance that the argument only made me feel like shit and that all we had going for us was going to shit.

A couple of days after, you had gone to the dance studio, we talked through what happened and it alleviated some of the strain. You gave me my own Chimmy, another item you said was to keep me company while you were away. You told me to keep him so that I remember that you were there with me, but were you? Is that what 70-30 looked like to you?

It was in bold red letters in front of us, Jimin.

I’ve spent these last few months wallowing and hollowing myself out because of the isolation. You did nothing to alleviate that pain, rather you perpetuated it. You lied to me. You ended things without explanation, you told me we were going to maintain some semblance of our relationship. You told me you would stay. Attached to my side for a month and then disappeared, this wasn’t what your promise meant. When you gave me your promise to wear those years ago, it was concrete and assuring. A simple band that reminded me daily what we had was worth it all, but I’m done blaming all of this on myself. I’m done justifying it with a promise you failed to keep, a lie wrapped around our fingers.

Dahae and everyone else in the company had seen it happen in snippets, and they told me I deserved better, but how could I believe that when all I knew was you? When our anniversary passed a couple of weeks ago, I shoved all these souvenirs into the cardboard box in front of you now and have shipped it your way. Feel its immensity and its weight. This is what I’ve been carrying without you. How much weight has landed itself onto your shoulders since you left? Or have you passed it onto Taehyung and Jungkook, like you usually do? The necklace you gave me for my birthday is in there too. I couldn’t keep it when its chain kept searing itself into my skin, reminding me of things that were no longer true.

There’s only so much to performing that keeps me going. There’s only so much to staring at mirrored walls all day, dancing until you feel the callouses that have formed over the years thicken more under the repeated pressure. You know how it feels to stare at mirrored walls, to see your own reflection distort in front of you. I felt it too. I began to dim, I began to believe I could only reflect the light that you radiated, but now it’s time to let go because I’m realising my worth. We shone together, we shared the stage, and although stage lights still consume us in different places at different times, I saw myself stumbling more. It was gone, the flame within me began to die out. But it was a part of us, dancing made us love. It was something we shared. As your fame began to skyrocket, the dynamic between us only began to slow down until it ceased to exist.  

So here I am, word vomiting onto these pages for you. Beginning with your confession letter and it’s in there too. This is it, the last thing you’ll hear from me because I’m going back to where it all began. Memories that plague me, ones of us from back home, I’m replacing them and moving forward, now truly accepting that you’re gone, and you don’t care. You stopped, and I don’t want to beg anymore. I don’t want to be miserable any longer because I deserve better than what you put me through.

Good luck, I love you. You know where to find me, but you won’t need it.

Y/N

[bucklesomeswashswan]

Once Upon a December (10/10)

Summary: Emma doesn’t remember much of her past, all she knows is she needs to get out of Misthaven. The mysterious group called the Industrialists continues to gain power and control since they overthrew the royal family over a decade ago. Out of options, Emma joins forces with a conman Killian and his partner Ruby in their plot to pass her off as the lost princess of Misthaven. But as they travel together and Killian and Ruby try to teach her how to be a princess, Emma begins to uncover hidden pieces of her past. When threats start closing in around them will she choose to escape to safety or risk everything to find her family and reveal a dangerous secret that could change history forever?

Rating:  M

Story content warning: some descriptions of violence, slow burn Chapter content warning: smut ahead

Part of @captainswanbigbang 2018. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | also read it on AO3

One last thank you to the wonderful @prongsie whose art is magnificent and perfectly captured this story! Check out her blog for all her amazing artwork! Thank you again to my beta reader @csobsessed-21!

Final Notes: Well, this is the end. It’s so surreal. But it feels right to be ending this story on the first of December!

I cannot express how much this whole experience has made me grow as a writer and as a member of the fandom. This is the longest story I have ever completely drafted and written. There were days, even months, I didn’t think this would ever make it and see the light of day. It definitely wouldn’t have without the amazing support of the other Big Bang writers, betas, artists, and admins! I want to say a huge thank you and a huge congrats to everyone who took part this year as I sign off here.

As always thank you to everyone who has read, liked, left kudos, reblogged, commented, gushed, reached out, and enjoyed this story! You have made this experience what it was!! I love you all so much! Hopefully this chapter will be a worthy thank you and a little cherry on top for everyone who stuck it out this far!!

Thank you again from the bottom of my heart!  xx Corinne

Chapter 10 :  Someone Holds Me Safe and Warm

Emma spurred her horse on quicker. The road was starting to slope downward along the tall cliffs of the coast. Already she could smell the brine of the sea and feel the salty spray on the air from the crashing waves below.

She had heard stories about Capetown from the grizzled and worn sailors in the fishing village she had lived in. It was a fabled pirate stronghold nestled into a rocky bay that was plagued by mermaids. It was said that the mermaids had caused such a problem for sailors that it had greatly helped speed the transition to airships. Many shipping companies realizing their cargos were safer in the skies than navigating the bay. However Glowerhaven had not taken to the new technology like Misthaven had, and Capetown still remained an important harbor for seagoing ships.

The sun was setting into the waves on the horizon painting the sky in golds and reds when Emma started to see the lights of the town up ahead. Her hand drifted to the pocket of her coat with the slip of paper from Ruby.

Capetown was a village of closely packed houses and buildings with wooden siding, white shutters, and steeply pitched roofs. Gulls cried out from where they perched on the chimneys. The town seemed to have been influenced by centuries of profitable sea trade. There were crushed shells on the roads and walkways and the stores all seemed to be selling nets and ropes and other sailing supplies. There were signs hanging above doors advertising shipping companies and whalers. Outside most of the doors and hanging along the street were lanterns lit with flickering flames. It gave a softer light than the gas lamps she was used to in Misthaven.

Emma slid down from the saddle to lead her horse down the busy streets. Even after dark there were still people milling around, moving into the taverns and haggling over prices of crates of goods outside warehouses and shops.

She stopped a young woman on her way past. “Excuse me, can you tell me where the Swan and Anchor is?”

She pointed up the street. “You’re nearly there. It’s just up the street, closer to the docks. You’ll know it by the sign and the bright blue door. Take care there, that place is famous for a slightly unsavory crowd.”

Unsavory crowds were becoming something of a specialty for her lately.

“I’ll be fine, thank you for your help,” Emma said making her way quicker up the street.

The Swan and Anchor was a sprawling building that stretched more than half a block. It was three stories high, its face dotted with many windows and even spaced dormers rising from the slanting roof. And as described it had two wide bright blue doors thrown open to the night air and there was a group of people loitering at the entrance.

Emma led her horse around to the stable behind the boarding house.

“I’ll need a stall for the night,” Emma told the stable boy. “Give him as much water and hay as he wants.”

“Room number?” the boy asked taking the lead rope from her

“I’m not sure, I’m meeting a friend,” she said. The boy didn’t seem impressed by that answer. Emma dug into her pocket and pulled out a few silver coins and passed them to him. “Will that cover it?”

The boy stared for a moment before he hurriedly stuffed the silver into his jacket. “I’ll see to him right away, Miss,” he said leading her horse back into the rows of stalls.

Emma made her way out of the stable and followed the path around to the entrance of the boarding house. She edged between the people standing there ignoring their looks and sneers. She felt a familiar unease settle in her stomach, that feeling of not belonging. These calculating glances were different from all the stares she had endured the last few days beside her parents but they still made her feel alien. She suddenly wished she had changed into less conspicuous clothes before she left.

She followed the noise to large parlor that seemed to be used as a bar of some kind. There were groups seated at tables laid heavy with mugs of drink, coin and cards, and others grouped loosely around one of the women dressed in brightly colored dresses that hang low on their frames giving wanting eyes plenty to look at.

Emma made her way to the bar and flagged over the woman serving drinks. “I’m looking for someone staying here,” she said.

The woman popped the cap on a bottle of rum before pouring a glass for one of the patrons. “You’ll have to be more specific, we have a lot of rooms, lass.”

“His name is Killian Jones.”

The woman paused looking up at her for a moment a smile tugged at her lips. “He’s got them pretty blue eyes, yeah?” she asked.

Accurate enough. Emma nodded and the woman pointed above them. “Second floor, room 204.”

Emma left a silver piece on the bar for her help and wove her way through the other patrons to the set of stairs tucked at the back of the room. The second floor was little more than a dimly lit hallway with rows of doors leading to rooms. She paused in front of the door marked 204 feeling suddenly nervous. She had raced across Glowerhaven to stop him before he left but now she found herself hesitating. What if there was a reason he never came to see her after the ball? What if he didn’t want anything to do with her now that she was a princess?

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. She stepped back once it was done and waited, her pulse echoing in her ears as if she were underwater.

She heard the lock unlatch and then the door opened. Killian stood there looking less put-together than she had ever seen him. His hair was disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his leather greatcoat or a waistcoat. Instead his linen shirt hung loose over his shoulders the buttons down the front open almost to his navel. Emma glanced away at the sight.

“Emma?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” she told him.

He frowned glancing both ways up the hallway. “You shouldn’t be wandering around here alone,” he said waving her forward. “Come inside.”

She moved past him over the threshold and a few steps into the room. Her eyes took in the bed in the corner, the small desk beneath the window, the candles on the desk and bedside table, the open book laid out beside the candles as if he had put it down to answer the door.

“Why are you here, Your Highness?” he asked her once the door was closed.

She turned to face him, his tone and use of her title surprising her. She had prepared for a few different ways he might react to her chasing him down, but this formality wasn’t one of them. For a moment they stood in silence as she scrambled for what to say. She wondered if it wouldn’t be easier if he simply read her thoughts and intentions as he had so many times in the past and saved her the trouble of the speech she had practiced over and over on the ride here.

“Ruby told me you were leaving,” she said as a start.

He nodded. “How is Ruby?”

“She’s been offered a position working with my mother. She came by this afternoon.”

Killian nodded again not quite meeting her eyes. He didn’t say anything in reply. Emma could feel her frustration rising. Why was he being so distant? So cold? Was he going to react to anything she told him? Did any of it matter to him?

“She misses you,” Emma said trying a new tactic. “You’re running away from something good. Something that made you happy.”

She wasn’t even sure she was talking about Ruby anymore. The words just rushing out of her before she could stop them.

“You need each other,” she finished.

That seemed to hit its mark. Killian rounded on her. “What do you know about what I need?”

Emma faltered at his sharp tone. “You don’t need to leave,” she told him.

“I can’t stay,” he said bitterly.

Emma shook her head taking a step closer to him, a step she saw him watch carefully. “I know it’s different here, and it’s all new, but we can find a place for you. You’ll have your cut of the reward money, you’re a rich man now. You can start a new life. You could be in charge of trade or customs or whatever you want.”

He blew out a breath, his hand running over his face. “That’s just it. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want a place in your parents’ employ. I don’t want to be a Head of State or Secretary of Trade. I don’t want that.”

His words hung in the air as the silence stretched. She watched him, trying to understand.

“What do you want?” she asked softly.

He looked up with that same unreadable expression she had seen several times in his eyes. It was only now that she recognized it as longing, desire, love. “Don’t you know, Emma?” he asked her his voice hitching on her name.

He didn’t need to say the words because she did know. She had known for longer than she had allowed herself to admit. It was what she wanted too.

“Then why?” she asked him waving a hand. “Why are you running?”

“Emma,” he said her name almost like a plea, a plea for mercy. His gaze moved over her face as if he were memorizing it and she could sense him retreating from her.

His hand reached out to touch her hair where it lay against her shoulder, a familiar gesture. But she watched his eyes as his expression became an impassive mask, armor against the injury he thought was coming. He was preparing for her to break him.

“I know how the world works,” he said. “There are things that can’t be changed.”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He tossed his head letting out a sound of frustration. “Come on, I’m not-,” he sighed before continuing, “I’m a criminal, a con, a forger. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, things that shouldn’t be forgiven. I’d be thrown in jail, or worse, if I set foot back in Misthaven. We are from different worlds. You have your family now, a good family, a future, a purpose and a duty. You don’t need something weighing you down. And that is what I would be, a scar on your new life.”

She stared at him incredulously. She could tell he genuinely believed what he was saying, that he thought in some way he didn’t deserve her. As if someone who was so brave, who had risked everything to help her and others, and someone who had saved her life over and over could be below her. As if she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life trying to be as good as he had showed her she could be.

“So sailing off on some ship to who-knows-where is going to fix that?” she asked him.

When he didn’t answer she pressed on.

“You did what you had to do to survive, so did I, but we aren’t the people we used to be. That past is only a piece of who we are, and I will always choose to see the best in you. You’ve made me stronger, braver, kinder, and that is what we can be together. That is the future I want. The rest we will figure out as we go.”

He still looked a little uncertain, a part of him holding back. She decided to convince him the only way she had left. He was the one who was better with words anyway.

She closed the distance between them leaning up to capture his lips. He responded immediately, his arms folding her into him. It wasn’t like their first kiss, something quiet and almost shy, this was consuming and desperate. Both of them trying to keep hold of what they needed. She gripped the collar of his linen shirt as she pulled him even closer.

Heat coursed through her. The feeling of him against her was like a breath of fresh air after a week of drowning. She wanted to get lost in the moment, the feel of his fingers curled in her hair, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart under her hand. It was what she had been searching for so long, at last she had found her place, this… this felt like home.

She hadn’t realized they were moving until her back shored up against the wall and she broke from him with a small gasp.

“Killian,” she breathed looking up at him.

He looked wrecked as his eyes moved between hers.

“I love you,” he told her.

She smiled widely, her hand coming up to his cheek. “I love you, Killian.”

He let out a shaking breath in relief and he leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes fell closed as though he were savoring the moment and the words echoing between them. It was a perfect peaceful moment but she wanted more.

Her hand trailed down his torso taking hold of the fabric of his shirt. His eyes snapped open as she pulled it from where it was tucked into his waistband. He watched her with a glint in his gaze as she ran her fingers along the hem.

There was a question in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow, but there was no hesitation in the way he raised his arms to help her when she lifted his shirt off in answer.

She allowed herself a few seconds to take in the sight. When she had stitched him up on the train she had tried not to stare at him. But now she traced the lines of lean muscle under his skin, she trailed her fingers through the hair on his chest, the line down past his navel. He glanced away as her hands moved up over his shoulders and down to his hands. He tried to pull his mechanical hand from her but she gently took hold of it.

She hated the way he looked ashamed. Slowly, holding his gaze, she lifted it and pressed a kiss to the cool metal of his palm. This didn’t make him a monster, it was a symbol of how much he had sacrificed to help her, a connection to the worst night of their lives, a devotion she hoped to repay.

Emotion swelled in his eyes and he then he was kissing her again pressing her back into the wall as both his hands moved over her until at last they settled where her bodice was laced. His fingers moving quickly to loosen it. She shook her shoulders as it fell to the floor and she reached back to untie her skirt until it followed.

She stood there in only her shift and waited for the creeping nerves. She remembered all the times she had opened herself up and tried give a fraction of her heart to someone. All the mistakes and failures. But there no urge to run, no need to hide behind her walls. There was only Killian standing before her already holding all the damaged pieces of her heart.

She pulled the shift over her head and leaned back against the wall as his eyes moved hungrily over her devouring the sight.

“My princess,” he breathed reverently as he placed a chaste kiss to her lips and then moved to trace the edge of her jaw. She pushed him back an inch and he drew back at once looking up at her as if afraid she might reject him.

“I’m just Emma,” she told him taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Right now, with you, I’m just Emma.”

He stared at his hand on her for a moment before leaning back into her.

“Emma,” he said, her name a whispered prayer as he placed a kiss at the hollow behind her ear and kissed down the column of her neck. She sucked in a breath in surprise as his teeth nipped at the soft skin there.

“Emma,” he repeated as he bent to kiss her collarbone, her shoulder. His lips leaving a path of fire in their wake. He kissed right over her heart where his hand had been and she wondered if he could feel it trying to pound its way out of her chest.

He kissed down the side of her breast dropping to his knees before her. “Emma,” he breathed again into the skin at the bottom of her ribs making her shiver.

He moved lower still marking a path down her stomach his hands tracing the curve of her hips. One hand warm and one hand cool against her, the contrasting feelings driving her wild. His nose pressed into the dip beside her hip bone. “Emma,” he murmured one more time as he kissed there too.

He looked up at her silently asking permission as he lifted her leg behind her knee and eased it over his shoulder. She couldn’t have managed words if her life had depended on it. Instead she gave him a small nod and closed her eyes tilting her head back against the wall as he moved closer pressing kisses to her inner thigh until at last he reached the place they were both waiting for.

Her hand flew to his hair as she scrambled to get some purchase to maintain her balance. He groaned against her and she thought she might implode. Fire pounded through her veins sparking off her like lightning. She was a shooting star burning as she climbed higher and higher. She clung to him as she rose until all at once every nerve drew tight, pulling in and at last shimmering bliss radiated out of her, starlight dancing behind her eyes, and pleasure like sparks ran down to her toes, to the tips of her fingers. She let out a strangled sound as she slumped down the wall.

“Killian,” she said his name a desperate sound. He caught her against his chest holding her close.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her in that ernest tone that made her heart clench in her chest. Naked and trembling in his arms after what they had just done, and it was his words and the truth in his eyes that made her blush.

He leaned forward nuzzling into her chest, his breath warm against her. But she needed more. She needed him. 

She stood on slightly unsteady legs and pulled him up and over to the bed. He followed her willingly. She sank down on the edge of the mattress before running her fingers over the waistband of his trousers.

He was breathing heavily as she undid the laces and slid them down his legs her knuckles dragging over his skin until he kicked them off. She trailed her fingers back up tracing over him making his breath hitch. She loved the sound, the needy expression in his eyes. She held his gaze as she lay back stretching over the soft bedspread.

The mattress dipped as he joined her leaning down over her. She shifted her legs wider, her hands finding the back of his neck and his hip. He braced himself on his elbow as he looked down at her.

“Are you-” he hesitated.

“I need you,” she said because it was the truth in every way. She leaned up from under him, her chest pressing to his as she pulled him into a kiss.

It opened a floodgate and he held her closer, cradling her. She arched up with a gasp as he pushed into her and her body throbbed around him.  

“Please,” she begged not even sure what she was pleading for. But as always he seemed to know her better than she knew herself and he started to move. She angled her hips meeting him over and over each motion a wave trying to drag her under.

She let out a needy whimper clawing at his shoulders as he quickened his pace. And then he shifted, pulling her over on top of him and she loved the feeling as she rocked over him. It was only another minute before she was falling again, pulling him over the edge with her, and she collapsed onto his chest both of them breathing heavily.

He held her tightly his face buried in her neck. She could hear him murmuring something against her but couldn’t make out the words with ecstasy still echoing in her ears. She rolled off him curling into his side and he wrapped an arm around her holding her close, his lips pressing a kiss into her hair.

She wanted to stay awake all night, just to savor it or even just to watch him sleep beside her, but already she could feel sleep pulling her under. Her body exhausted and her mind drowsy from pleasure.

She woke the next morning to the sound of ship bells ringing in the harbor before there was any hint of sun in the sky. She felt Killian tense and roll away from her. 

She turned to see him sit up, his legs falling over the edge of the bed. He pushed a hand through his hair as if trying to rouse himself fully from sleep before he reached out to grab for his trousers beside the bed.

Fear washed over her. Was he going to leave her? The ship bells, was he still planning on sailing off with them?

“Stay,” she said her voice a little rough with sleep. “Killian, please.”

He looked over at her, brows pulled down in confusion. “Stay?” he asked her.

“I thought,” she glanced down at her hand on the sheets beside her, her mother’s ring on her finger, suddenly feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, the bitter twist of rejection knotting her stomach, “after last night…”

He moved closer to her, pulling one leg back beneath the sheets. “Emma, darling, I’m not leaving you,” he said reaching out to lift her chin and pull her gaze to his. “There isn’t a force in this world strong enough to pull me from your side now.”

She stared. “Then why are you getting up?” she asked.

A smile pulled at his lips. “Because the town is waking up. And your people are going to be getting worried about you.”

She shook her head. “They know where I am. And I don’t think I’m ready to leave this bed just yet.”

He bit down on his bottom lip, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Is that right?” he asked.

She nodded solemnly at him. “I think we could stay in this bed for several more hours.”

He lifted a hand to scratch at his chin. “Several more hours?” he repeated.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. “At least that long.”

He gave a small bow with a sweep of his hand. “As my lady commands,” he said settling back down beside her. “Your heart’s desire, that’s all I want you to have.”

She smirked at him. “Well, actually there are a few things I desire from you.”

He clucked his tongue. “Taking advantage of your power and subjects already I see,” he said.

“I was planning on reciprocating,” she said watching as his eyes darkened with lust, “I can be a fair ruler.”

“Very magnanimous,” he complimented. “Seems you’ll be a great princess.”

She smiled sitting up and moving to straddle his hips. He looked up at her with something like wonder. His hand came to rest at her hip as she leaned down. Her hair brushed his shoulder as she paused just a breath away from his lips. “Well, I had a good teacher.”

His chuckle was cut off as she kissed him the sound turning to a growl in the back of his throat that sent a shiver through her. She didn’t resist when he rolled them, his weight settling over her and she held him close as a new day dawned around them.

[dietaku]

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 4

The fourth chapter. You know how it is. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4: 2 Million Leagues Under the Sea!- We get another sepia tone flashback, this time of an only slightly-younger Hiro and Emilia. Emilia: Well… your form is good. But you swing your sword like a little girl. Hiro: I don’t like hurting people, sis. Besides, everyone knows YOU’RE the messiah the Pudding tribe has awaited! I’m only here because mom had that bottle of aged tequila lying around. Emilia: That has nothing to do with anything! You need to have more confidence! … Wait, I got just the ticket! Emilia runs behind Hiro and plays with his hair. Hiro: Um. What’re you doing? Emilia: I’m giving you a Pudding Warrior Knot in your hair. It’s an ancient custom of our tribe that when a Pudding Warrior comes of age, he gets one! Hiro: Oh. That’s pretty neat. Emilia finishes, presenting the now French braided hero, Hiro, we know now. Hiro: Somehow I feel more fabulous than before. Can’t quite place my finger on it. Emilia: It’s perfect! You’ll be beating up Dark Puddings before you know it! The scene fades, then returns, Hiro, Ozma, Kimyawa and Loyroll laid out on a beach. Hiro: Ungh. I wonder why I never dream in color. Hiro gets up and the others join him. You’ll soon discover this area is only one screen wide, so you’re left to exhaust every possibility until you investigate the water. Not just any water, though, the ONE specific square, just to the left of center. Many players wasted HOURS trying to find this event flag, and many people wrongly believed it was an anti-piracy measure. Nope. Just shoddy programming. The mermaid from before surfaces. Mermaid: So, thief, ready to pay up? Ozma: Hey! We don’t even HAVE a thief in this party! Hiro: Just a reasonable facsimile. Loyroll: You flatter me, as always. Mermaid: You yoinked the goods from that place without paying its rightful owner! Kimyawa: Isn’t that technically liberating it? Mermaid: QUIT CHANGING THE TOPIC! Kimyawa: What’s your name, Stranger-chan? Mermaid: I’m Mancala! Call me Manny and I’ll punch ya in the mug, got it?! I’m the number one marine merchant mermaid you’ll ever see in the sea! Ozma: Meh, mehmehmeh? Mancala: Ignoring that. The point is you took stolen property. So I’m gonna maroon you here until you pay up! Hiro: (Great. Now what do we do?!) You then get a prompt which can result in some different dialogue options. 1) Barter 2) Lie 3) Beg -Barter- Hiro: Okay. It was just a few things. Can’t be THAT expensive. What’s the tab? Mancala: Well… since you asked so nicely! Mancala brandishes an abacus and begins calculating. Mancala: The items total net value, plus the emotional damage to this delicate mermaid, plus interest, plus tax not withheld, plus tax withheld, social security, deducting the “asked so nicely” fee… it all tallies up to a measly 36 trillion gold! Ozma: Can I crush her head like an overripe melon? Hiro: T-trillion?! Are you MAD?! Mancala: If you’re nice, I’ll even include the “cute boy” deduction! That would knock it all the way down to 34! Loyroll: And certainly a deduction for yours truly, if I may be so bold? Mancala: I’m not into girls. … Much. Loyroll: Pardon? Hiro: There’s no way we have that much. That price is absurd. I refuse. Mancala: SAY WHAT NOW?! -Lie- Hiro: What if I told you I know of a great treasure?! It’d more than make up the difference! Mancala: Okay, I’m listening now. Kimyawa: Hiro-ni-chan! You DO?! You’ve been holding out on us?! Ozma: Hiro, how could you?! Loyroll: Most unfabulous of you, my friend. Hiro: … Mancala: … Hiro: Err. Friendship is a sacred treasure, above all material wealth in the Pudding society! Ozma: (So it was just a lie…) Mancala: *Sigh* -Beg- Hiro: Please don’t make me beg. I am not a proud man. Ozma, Kimyawa & Mancala: (This is about to get really hot…) Hiro: (Suddenly, my pride is flaring up within me and I don’t know why…) Loyroll: Well? We’re waiting. Hiro: On second thought, I think I’ll just take a moment to absorb the scenery instead. Mancala: (Darn…) Regardless of your choice, it comes back to here afterward. Mancala: This isn’t getting us anywhere! Hiro: Is there no way to come to an agreement on this? Mancala: Well… you could be my servants for a while! Y’know, help with this, that and the other for a bit and we could call it square! Hiro: I somehow get the impression you’re more ambitious than that. Mancala: Aww, you flirt~! Hiro: (Not the intended reaction. Why does it feel like my life is in danger now?) Ozma & Kimyawa: *Stare* Hiro: At any rate, we don’t have the kind of money on-hand to pay. So I guess we’ve no choice. Mancala: Well, you’re in luck! I just so happened to overhear some of the Dark Puddings talking about the Water Talisman. Hiro: You did? Where is it now?! Mancala: In the Octopus Garden. It’s some ancient ruins not far from my hometown, Mermania. Regrettably, those have been locked up tight since far back as anyone can remember. But I just so happen to know some juicy gossip that may lead us to a key. The Legendary Ice Key! Hiro: Sounds like a lead! Ozma: Or a diversion from the main plot. Poh-tay-toe, pah-tah-tow. Mancala: Either way, I need some henchmen and you need the talisman, right?! I knew it soon as I saw that birthmark! Hiro takes a moment to examine himself. Hiro: Okay, seriously, where is this birthmark you people keep going on about and why do I not see it? Mancala: But that whole “air-breather” problem… there’s only one fix for that! Hiro: Oh no, not another racket… Mancala: Calm down, calm down. It’s a Mermaid’s Kiss! Hiro: Oh. Is that some kind of stone? Or maybe a plant? Or— Mancala leaps from the water, her tail morphs into legs, allowing her to glomp Hiro. Accompanying in a loud, cartoonish “SMOOCH” sound effect, which always gets a giggle out of me. Hiro: W-whoa. That was… brusque. Ozma: *Furious* Kimyawa: *Envious* Loyroll: *Yawns* Are we ready to go now? Then we can enter the water and dive to the underwater map. Though, thanks to aquatic canyons, we can’t just go anywhere we want… yet. Our first stop is down south a ways at Mermania, a recurring city throughout the franchise. There, we can get the “Bikni” armors for our female party members, which give a serviceable boost in defense to each. Hiro and Loyroll can get the “Trnks” which are a step up, but not as huge of one. How does an armor that covers less protect more? It is one of the long, lost legendary mysteries of JRPGs. Anyways, if we talk around at the merchant’s guild here, we’ll learn that Mancala has lost her trader’s license 17 different times due to “questionable practices”. The others roll their eyes when they learn this news but refrain from commenting. After talking to enough merfolk, Mancala fans out from the party. Mancala: Okay! We got everything we need? The legendary ice key is held in the underwater volcano! Hiro: I’d question the physical possibilities but somehow I feel like I’d just be encouraging you at this point. Mancala: Oh, don’t be so glum, chum! It’s pretty much a straight line there! … With a few curves and bumps. And a giant, angry dragon at the bottom. Hiro: Ah. There’s the hitch. I was waiting for that. Loyroll: Slaying a dragon? It’s a tad cliché but I think we can handle that! Mancala: Then what’re we waiting for?! Let’s do it! Ozma: What? You mean stroll up to the dragon and punch it in the face? Mancala: … Yes? Ozma: Metal. Kimyawa: Sugoi, Ozma-chan! At this point we can move back to the ocean floor and the cave in the top-right area is open now. Had we gone he previously, Hiro would’ve met the Giant Sentient Block, a really existential gag that plagues AQ players for years to come. In fact, in the early-internet era, whether this pseudo-character even existed was up for debate, as most of his appearances in this game are very easily missed. The cave itself is pretty straight-forward, except about midway, where the current puzzles spell out great confusion for those who tried to brute force the puzzles, which would flush them down a comically oversized pit where you’d battle the Toilet Snake monster, which is obsessed with poison attacks. Otherwise, the local monsters like the Munchkinfish, Seaweeder, and Poof Fish are actually quite weak compared to other monsters around this level. Here you can find a Coral Abacus for Mancala, replacing the nonsense “TmSn” Abacus she comes with normally (the Japanese name is “Termite Snack” and I guess they were okay with letting everyone assume it meant “Thompson” or something!). Afterward, you just press on down the stairs… up until you enter the gameshow chamber. Yeah, that’s not a joke. The party fans out and stands behind a podium as a huge, anime octopus-man plops down in a suit and tie. Octopus: Welcome, ladies and gentlefish to Amazing Quest: The Game Show: The Video Game: Home Edition v. 1992! I’m your host, Otto! And you lucky heroes are in for a treat today! You get to try my quiz game challenge! Win and you’ll receive fabulous prizes! Fail and you get… well, nothing! Are we ready to play?! We then get a prompt of “Squid yeah!” or “Fin no!”, but obviously the game won’t let you progress until you at least TRY, so, yeah… Otto: Question 1 will be an easy one to get your feet wet! What tribe is Hiro from? We get a prompt between “Pudding”, “Protagonist” and “Team Laser Explosion”. The answer is quite obvious. Otto: Correct! Question 2: What is Ozma’s family name? This one is a little trickier, being given the possible answers “Trouble”, “Tohrubble” and “Toruble”. Just be aware of what her name REALLY is, and you’ll be fine. Otto: Great job! Really kraken ‘em up! Question 3: What mystical artifacts, when united, unleash a great and terrible power? The answers this time are: “The DisKord Stones”, “Hell’s Bells”, and “The Talismans”. Interestingly enough, the other options are shout-outs to DOS-era adventure titles, which AQ4 later also shouts out to. Otto: Whooo! Now we’re gilly getting into it! Question 4: What elemental affinity is the first boss of this game? The prompt is just Fire, Water and Pie, so the answer is obviously water as it was the monster in Fog Tower. If you say Pie, Otto’s arms drop to his sides, as he turns to face the player directly and will stare at you for 10 tedious, unnerving seconds before prompting you to try again. Otto: ALRIGHT! Last one and this one separates the squids from the suckers! Question 5: Which of these is NOT an element of magic?! The answer prompt this time is four options wide, including: “Music”, “Emotion”, “Boobs” and “Food”. You’d only know the answer to this if you read the instruction booklet – which specifically references the elements of magic in the AQ universe. This is kind of a jerk move by the game devs, as losing the manual in the early SNES era was a foregone conclusion by all but the most dedicated collectors. The answer is technically food, but the AQ manga series actually contradicts this during the “Great Pudding Cook-Off” arc. Otto: N-no way! What an amazing contestant we had on the show! Everyone, put your fins together for our new winners! A bunch of fish suddenly leap-on screen and shake about excitedly as the SNES strains to emulate the sound of uproaring applause. Then they retreat to whence they came. Otto: How do you feel? Hiro: A little drunk? Otto: YOU HEARD IT HERE, FOLKS! Now, enjoy your fabulous prizes! For answering all five correct, we get 3 “Fishy Hats” which are helmet upgrades that anyone in the party can put on. We’re then booted from the quiz room and resume our trek through for a few more rooms up until we reach the boss chamber. There, there’s a huge hole in the center of the room, glowing red. Hiro: I have to assume this is where the dragon awaits us. Mancala: Better go up and check just to be sure, Hiro! We’ll wait back here, where it’s safe! Hiro: *Sigh* Very well. One moment. Hiro walks to the lip and looks down. Hiro: Deep. But I don’t see anything. Hiro kicks a small stone from the lip down below, then puts a hand to his ear to listen for it. Hiro: … Deep. Very deep. But I still don’t— The screen begins violently shaking. Hiro: Well, I’ve been wrong before. -Boss Fight!- Trench Serpent LP: 7500 MP: 1000 This gigantic beast is a real threat at last! I hope you took the time to level up on your way here! Your best bet is use Kimyawa’s Fox Flip, if you’re leveled high enough to have it by now, which can briefly confuse the monster to some considerable effect. However, it mandates being quite a bit over-leveled to use here, so she may be money ahead to spam the Mirror of Kii. The serpent’s most dangerous move is “COWABUNGA!” which sends a killer tidal wave over the party – never mind that we’re already underwater during this fight. Your Pudding Swirls should be sufficient, provided you’re not careless. If you monitor your HP burn, you should come out on top. -Boss Fight!- Hiro: Whew… that was surprising. Mancala: Look! The Ice Key! A banana in a block of ice floats down to Hiro’s hands. Hiro: I lack the words. As usual. Mancala: We have it! Now we can go to the Octopus’ Garden! Hiro: Tell me it’s not a quiz game. Mancala: Probably not! Loyroll: Life is far more fun when you never know what comes next, right? Hiro: I guess so. At this point we –can- go on to the next area, if we wanted to. However, a hilarious and easily-missed Easter egg awaits those who return back to Zaius and Heston. The people gather at a neutral ground once you walk into one of the cities. Hiro: Okay. Everyone. Watch very carefully. I’m gonna bring peaceful resolution to this once and for all. Hiro brandishes his sword, then cuts the Ice Key clean in half. Mancala: HIRO! WHAT THE HELL?! Hiro: Just watch. This is going some place. Hiro takes the banana free of the ice, then peels it from center-out on both ends. Crowd: WHAT?! N-no way! No one has ever… how did he DO THAT?! Hiro: See? Now you understand: there’s more than just two ways to do something! And each is equally valid. And now we all learned an important lesson, right? Crowd: HE HAS ANGERED THE VOLCANO GODS! Hiro: Beg pardon? The camera pans out as a nearby mountain erupts into a volcano, the magma pours out and wipes out both villages in a flash. It then cuts back to the party. Mancala: Oh. Right. This place is ruled by the twin brother gods of volcanoes: Rilk and Klir. They also had very particular food habits. And banana peeling was one of their sacred doctrines. Hiro: … How was I supposed to know that? So with two more destroyed cities under our belts, we find the Melted Blade, a new sword for Hiro as we return to the sea for the Octopus Garden. The garden is a 3D maze, using a really curious fixed-perspective isometric view and water spouts that move Hiro up and down as you run through. People have wasted HOURS of their lives here due to the numerous deadends and confusing layout. This is also only the first screen. The second area has moving platforms which Hiro must traverse in order to cross a river. For some reason, this ordeal seems quite nostalgic, doesn’t it? The third area introduces the garden’s true gimmick – the octopus jars and the red and blue octopi. When you get here, the party fans out. Mancala: Ah. I’ve heard of this room. We have to approach it from a certain angle! Hiro: I don’t suppose you know what it is? Mancala: Grandma said this: red octopi are friendly and will pull you near them for a closer look! Blue octopi are shy and if approached, will politely move you away from their homes! But don’t fear – neither will harm you! Hiro: What on Earth does THAT mean?! Mancala: I dunno. Why? Hiro: … Kimyawa: Nii-chan, I think I understand! The octopi-tachi are different colors here. Red will pull us near from far away and blue will push us from near to far. And the room is full of holes in the floor. So, to progress, we need octopi-tachi to move us from one spot to another. Hiro: So the riddle lies in the color and the distance. I see. This is the most head-scratching moments in the game, not due to the base mechanics, but to how fiendishly clever the rooms that lie ahead really are. As explained, red octopi reach out three or four spaces ahead to grab us, but will ignore us if we’re one or two spaces out from them, and blue octopi ignore us at distances of three or greater, and will move us away from them three to four spaces if we approach. Using this knowledge we must move about the map step by step to progress. The first room is very simple and just a test of how each works. The second room adds more walls and holes in the floor to test your critical thinking. The third room adds floors that collapse once stepped on (which reset if you leave and come back) and the final room adds conveyer belts for a touch of twitch-reflex testing! Even with random encounters turned off for these moments, this still routinely gets ranked in the top 5 most hair-pullingly frustrating dungeons in the series. Once you get to the end, we see another pit not unlike the underwater volcano end area. Mancala: Oh? Is this the center area of the Octopus Garden? Ozma: Ugh. Not a recolor boss fight. How uncreative can you get? The area rumbles as a large, purple Trench Serpent rises from below. Kimyawa: Ozma-chan, Snake-san didn’t like that comment. Hiro: Get ready, everyone! Before the battle can begin, something flashes across the screen, and the serpent roars, sinking back into the abyss. Hiro: Wait, what? Who was that?! ?: Light Puddings! Prepare yourselves! Ozma: Uh. Strictly speaking only one among us is a Pudding! A tall, slender man with an oversized tower shield on each arm stands before the party. Man: I am Praetorian Mih! Hiro: Of course you are. Loyroll: I understand your frustration, my friend, but you must admit, he’s got style! Mih: You’ve done enough damage, Light Pudding! It’s time your little escapade— Hiro: Excuse me. Mih: What? Hiro: How are you breathing right now? Did you kiss a mermaid too? Mih: Huh? Hiro: We’re underwater, so I just wanted to know if we did the same thing is all or if there was a better way. Mih: Kiss a mermaid? What are you on about? Everyone knows mermaids aren’t real. Mancala: *Ahem* Mih: Bah! I tire of this. Enough banter! Have at you! -Boss Battle!- Praetorian Mih LP: 8800 MP: 750 Praetorian Mih is every bit the human wall his massive design and dual-wielding shields might indicate, coupled with by far the most LP of anything we’ve yet encountered. The best thing to do is to use Ozma’s Table Flip in hopes it reduces this giant’s defenses and use Pudding Swirl with Hiro and Kimyawa in order to give him the offensive edge needed to compete. Loyroll should use the Mirror of Kii, exploiting Mih’s middling magic defenses. Mih’s most annoying ability will be “Safe & Sound”, a special technique accompanied by an unusually cool trumpet solo which will render him virtually invincible for two rounds before he opens up with a party-wide physical blow. However, if you can weather this, he has a 3 turn cooldown on the ability, so he cannot spam it. You’ll have to play the endurance game just as much as he does, but if you keep it up, you’ll send him packing. -Boss Battle!- Mih: Hahaha! Not bad. Not bad at all. But it will take way more than that to defeat the Human Wall, Praetorian Mih! Hiro: How many more times are you going to introduce yourself?! Loyroll: It seems our unstoppable tempo has met with an unmoving mountain! Kimyawa: Nii-chan, I think you’re mixing your metaphors. Ozma: Don’t give up. I have an idea! But I’ll need your help, Mancala! Mancala: Huh? Uh. Okay! Lay it on me! What’s the plan?! Ozma palms Mancala’s head in her hand. Mancala: Eh? Wait, what— Ozma then hurls Mancala head-first into Mih, who slides back as she impacts, coming to the rim of the pit behind him. Mancala falls flat, stars circling her head. Mancala: BARF! Mih: Hahahaa! You must be truly desperate to resort to such flailing, desperate measures! Ozma: Oh, am I? Mih: Huh? What did you…? Oh no! Mih panics, desperately attempting to run as the cliff below him gives out and he plummets into the pit below. After a few seconds of a whistling, falling sound, we hear a violent crash below. Kimyawa: Yatta! Hiro: That was, uh, a creative way of dealing with that. Ozma: I’m pretty pleased with myself. Mancala: My poor head… I’m gonna feel that for weeks! Ozma: Oh, walk it off. Mancala: How do you walk off a headache?! Hiro: C’mon, guys. The water talisman must be… huh? Do you guys hear something? The area rumbles distantly. Suddenly, an explosion rockets up from the pit, sending the party skyward. Hiro: He exploded?! Loyroll: Not just him! The serpent too! Hiro: BECAUSE THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE, RIGHT?! Something shiny flies among the party. Kimyawa: Sugoi! The water talisman! Guy-nii-chan! Ozma: I got it! Ozma grabs Mancala’s tail and swings her around, causing Mancala to grab it. Mancala: STOP THAT, YOU CRAZY BITCH! Ozma: But it just feels SO RIGHT! How can it be wrong?! Ozma learns the Dual Tech – Fish Slap! She’ll grab Mancala’s tail and swing her about like a flail, dealing great damage to a single target. This move deals water-type damage. And we get the Water Talisman! Ozma: The important thing is that we got the Water Talisman now, right? Hiro: No! The important thing is that we’re ABOUT TO FALL AND DIE!!! Ozma: Such a gloomy gus… The party is then viewed falling, crash-landing in a seaside village on the opposite side of one of the underwater canyons that previously prevented our passage from Mermania. They pick themselves up and survey the town. Mancala: Oh! I know where this is! This is Trackland, the town known for its enormous race track and horrible, crippling gambling debt! Hiro: That seems… informative. Never heard of a place that bagged on their own town when they were naming it. Ozma: Might as well have a look around. I don’t see anything else we can do for now. Here we can buy some upgrades, like Kimyawa’s CatCap helmet, Ozma’s Blaz Knuckles and Hiro’s Shing Sword, provided you didn’t find the Melted Blade earlier. By talking to the locals, we learn the Dark Puddings have already ransacked their town, and now their sole joy remains in the race track – famous for being so long it’s also the main highway to the next town! We then go to talk to the operations manager to find a means down said road. Hiro: Hello. We were wondering if it would be alright to head down the race track to the next town. Ops Guy: No, no, no. You don’t “head down” the race track. You RACE down it! That’s why they call it a RACE track! Mancala: Yeah? Then why do they call something you drive on a parkway and something you park on a driveway?! Ops Guy: Look, I don’t make the rules – I just enforce them. If you try any funny business, I’ll run your butts down and drag you back here for the biggest lecture of your lives! So race properly or don’t race at all! The party leaves the room, then spreads out again. Hiro: Well, so much for the direct route. Ozma: Anyone have any ideas? Loyroll: Why not do what he said? After all, a race sounds like fun! No one can keep up with our tempo! Mancala: We can’t just run the track. We’d pass out from exhaustion before we hit the midway. We need something we can ride. We need a pack mule! Hiro: A town renowned for its race track? Well, there has to be a ranch nearby with animals for such an occasion. Let’s ask around. Heading over to the ranch on the east side of town we can talk to the rancher – a strangely feminine man in a long, white trench coat. Hiro: We need— Rancher: A monster for the race, right? Hiro: Wow, you’re— Rancher: I am pretty awesome. Moreover, you’re wasting your time. The Dark Puddings raided my ranch last month and I’m still putting the pieces back together. Hiro: Isn’t there anything— Rancher: Yeah, if you get a few million going spare, I could lend you one of my thoroughbreds I’ve been raising. Hiro: We don’t have— Rancher: Neither does anyone else, bro. If you want the bargain bin, you’re in luck. This way. Hiro: Are you going to let me— Rancher: No. The rancher leads us over to one particular pen where a sad, squat lizard-like creature with a camel’s hump, two wings and two tails, weighed down by mace-like appendages crawls out. It coughs out dust on Hiro’s boots. Hiro: Is it dying? Rancher: I can only hope. This here is the bottom of the bottom of the barrel. This is the last of the Griffohumps. Hiro: Okay, you’re gonna need to explain that one to me. Rancher: It’s half griffon, half camel-dog. Its eyes also don’t align properly and it’s wantonly flatulent. I’ll let you take it for 100 gold. Take it or leave it. Hiro: Well, that’s a very reasonable price. For an unreasonable animal. I was thinking more of something like a horse… Rancher: Then you’re out of luck, chum. What little I have left other than this guy is for rebuilding and repopulating my ranch. Hiro: Looks like I don’t have much of a choice. We then get a Yes/No prompt, which is entirely pointless as saying no means we just walk around town until we go back and say Yes. In the GBA remake, however, if Kimyawa is level 37 (really, only a few levels higher than the average for this segment) and knows her Fox Inferno technique, this entire segment takes on an entirely DIFFERENT connotation as Kimyawa can replace the Griffohump as our pet in this minigame. But that’s creepy. So I’ll stick with the SNES version, thank you very much. The Griffohump is then dropped into a special Virtual Pet-style menu, which we can access whenever we want by speaking with the rancher. We’re then prompted to name the little guy – his default name is “Stinky”. We can feed it either mundane items, or special items the rancher will offer to sell us, which influence its stats. We can train it in minigames, or by fighting it like it was a monster encounter – which is the most effective means to raise it. Unequip the party and let it beat on the party and its stats will skyrocket, especially if it KOs the party. We can also have Hiro pet it and talk to it, which makes Hiro spout off nonsense jokes that were poorly translated from their original Japanese counterparts. You may persist in doing this as long as you’d like or until you hit the ludicrous 999 stat caps. Really, if you get it to around 150 in everything, Energy, Speed, Acceleration and Defense, you don’t need anything more than that. Return to the ops guy. Ops Guy: You again?! Didn’t you hear me?! Hiro: We’d like to enter the race properly now! Ops Guy: Really now? Well, that’s an entirely different story. Ready to begin? We then get a Yes/No prompt. Select Yes to continue. Ops Guy: Alright! To the starting line! This cues up the race minigame, with Hiro sitting astride the Griffohump, who is barely larger than his owner. The race itself involves running to the right-hand side of the screen as other racers try to jump on/over us. We’re ranked as we go and we must be in one of the top three places in order to win the minigame. Failure to do so drops us off where we started the race and Hiro mumbling something about “Not being on his A-Game today”. Clearing in higher ranks nets us better money and item rewards, but nothing worth freaking out over just yet – but they do get better as the plot progresses. But if we manage to win in 1st, 2nd or 3rd, we reach the chapter’s end! Narrator: And thus, Hiro and his party, riding gallantly atop Stinky, gracefully coast across the valley. What awaits them ahead? Only time will tell… We then get the Griffohump Feather, a key item we can use to access the virtual pet minigame from anywhere, anytime! Don’t forget to feed him from time to time!

[blessuswithblogs]

2018 Game of the Year Top Ten List I guess

2018 has been an interminable mire of exhausting miasma and quite frankly I feel like it has been longer than the entire stretch of 2010-2015 combined. I also didn't play many games released this year because, like last year, I'm still poor. I'll see what I can dig up.

10. Sunset Overdrive PC edition: It's a fun open world game by insomniac. The PC Port is actually balls but like. It's a good game with a unique emphasis on how you traverse the game world, where you can grind and bounce on just about anything and indeed to do so is the only way to not get totally chewed up by the hordes of mutants and scavengers and robots you have to fight. There's also some pretty fun and out there weapons to use, like a gun that shoots vinyl records or one that deploys little auto-turrets kept aloft with propellers or one that shoots out a bowling ball at terminal velocity. The base game didn't actually come out this year (I dont... think it did...?) but it was an XBone exclusive so I didn't play it then. It's got some weird problems with narrative tone and some kind of out of the blue racism but the M rated Nickolodeon toy commercial aesthetic is charming in a weird way. I guess.

9. The Forest: I think this got an official release this year? I don't know I can't fucking keep track. Speaking of a game with weird problems with racism, if you can look past the garbage "main quest" and really deeply uncomfortable racial politics where you murder and steal from cannibal mutants, The Forest is probably the best cool treefort building simulator I've ever played. This game has a love affair with lumber and I respect that. Shouldn't you be looking for Timmy, you ask me? Shouldn't you be shutting the fuck up before I put this airplane axe in your skullmeats? Gazebos are nice. I guess.

8. Spyro: reignited trilogy: haven't actually played this yet but let's be real the spyro games were fucking dope back in the day and giving them an HD coat of paint and packaging them all together is a real standup thing for insomniac to do in between slinging webs and making questionable pc ports. Also its like Dark Souls so it has to be good, right? Everything old is new again. I guess.

7. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate: haven't played this one either but like. I know that I am a smash-enjoyer. I even liked Brawl. This is the biggest, smashiest one yet and it's also on the switch which means it could also be portable if I decided I never wanted to leave my bed again. I'm probably going to find some money to get it soon. Should be fun. I guess.

6. The Quiet Man: look no game that is THIS hysterical can be all bad alright? Didn't play it. Won't play it. It's awful. But it's so fucking funny like oh my god. Still better than Fallout 76. I guess.

5. Dark Souls Remastered: was this even a good remaster? I don't fucking know. It's Dark Souls. It's better than 90% of released games by default. I miss Solaire of Astora. I guess there's Shadows Die Twice to look forward to. I guess.

4. Subnautica: I wrote a lot about this actually. Subnautica is great. Just fantastic. A wonderful, visually stunning (mostly) (when it works) journey under an alien ocean to unravel an ancient mystery behind a deadly plague. Building seabases is so much fun (when it doesn't hard crash your computer) and the peaceful playstyle you adopt where you really only kill things for food until you can grow your own, much more efficient produce is a welcome change of pace from everything else. Leviathans are scary, especially now that your cyclops is mortal and not indestructible. This game actually Came Out this year so it deserves to be on the spot. I guess.

3. Dragon Ball Fighterz: Honestly I'm hell trash garbage at fighting games that aren't smash but this was a very well put together, visually impressive as all hell fast paced tag fighter where you can have 3 gokus on the same team fight 3 other gokus on the same team. Goku density alone makes this game worth recommending. The eSports scene that has popped up around it is fun too. I guess.

2. Dead Cells: Another game that gets to be on the list by virtue of it actually coming out this year. Wait, was this on last year's list? Let me check. Ok good it wasn't. Early access is a fucking trip. It's fun, stylish, challenging, has a great deal of variety in ways to play, might have erased my entire save because it became obsolete and I'm definitely not bitter, and it has that classic rogue-lite replay value to give you some bang for your buck. There was that one review plagiarism scandal. I guess.

1. Monster Hunter World: If you really want to know what I think of this game my previous piece on it is a good place to start. In addition to everything said there, MHW is just a fun game. The loop is satisfying and, later on, quite challenging. The combat system takes some genuine getting used to and some monsters like Nergigante actually literally cheat but for the most part the game's unique fighting style, spread across several unique weapon types, is rewarding to learn because it demands some effort be put into it and the dividends of fighting well are very cool, like just knocking a flying monster on its ass with a single mighty swing of the hammer. When a game is hard in any capacity games journalists get dollar signs in their eyes and start drooling uncontrollably because they can immediately declare that Farm Sim 2020 is the next Bloodborne because they somehow managed to roll their tractor into a ditch, but MHW is actually quite similar in style and execution to deliberate Souls combat, but the comparison is made in reverse. Dark Souls is quite similar to Monster Hunter, the first game of which was popular and a couple of years old before Demon's Souls was even a twinkle in Miyazaki's eye. There's a lot of parallels between fighting a big ol' rathalos in monhun and going for the toes against a dragon in Dark Souls, but I think MHW actually does that kind of fight better.  There are a lot of modern conveniences present in MHW that are a godsend to newer players, making the game pretty easy to get into if you're willing to try. It was my favorite game of the year that actually came out in 2018. I kind of wanted to put Warframe in this list but it's been out of early access for years now. I guess.

There were a lot of games this year that I wanted to play, but couldn't. I don't think 2018 was a weak year for video games. It wasn't as strong as 2017 but it had some hits, I just couldn't afford to play them all. Maybe next year I'll be able to give a better list. I think that the whole industry is in for some hard choices and major restructuring of how things get done and how they look at the end result. Stocks continue to trend downward - not just for Bethesda but for most mainstream, prominent AAA developers like EA and Take2. Given the well documented volatility of "The Shareholders", I imagine that they would be most displeased by downward trends even if they were still making a modest profit.

The situation has been likened to an economic bubble ripe for bursting. Games as a cultural institution have come a long way since the catastrophic days of Atari's warehouses of unsold copies of E.T., and I don't believe that we're in any danger of a complete collapse of the institution, but the fact absolutely remains That Something's Gotta Give. The increasingly predatory practices that game developers put in place as they pathologically attempt to Make Every Money Ever are intrinsically unsustainable. People are willing to forgive and overlook the now ubiquitous microtransaction if a game is good enough to overlook it, or if it's the game's only real way of actually making money. Warframe's microtransactions, for instance, are reasonably priced, platinum is often heavily discounted as a login bonus, and you can make large amounts of it without ever spending money thanks to the game's surprisingly robust trading economy. So. Yeah. They get a pass. Warframe is also good on its own merits, despite being free to play. They also listen to their community about pricing. Go check out Warframe. It's free. It's free!!! Warframe is my unofficial top spot.

Sorry I got a little bit distracted. So there's only really two instances where people will tolerate microtransactions and lootboxes in the contemporary sense: either a game is good enough and polished enough and the lootboxes are unobtrusive enough that you can just sort of shrug your shoulders and say "it sucks but what are you gonna do" or it genuinely relies on those microtransactions to support itself. When these tenets are violated, people WILL get mad. People raised absolute hell about Battlefront 2's scummy monetization schemes, enough to get EA to back off. Fallout 76 is getting lambasted in no small part due to its utterly overpriced "cosmetic" shop where you pay ten real dollars to get your power armor to look blue. You can buy fullfeatured, critically acclaimed games for half that price and you already dumped $60 on this lemon of a game. Destiny 2 got into hot water for being cagey about how its exp values were calculated and how the previously free and user-friendly shaders became one-time use items you could only get from rolling the dice. The public is getting positively irate about all of this nonsense, and if Fallout 76 (and evidently battlefield V?) is any indication, we are fast approaching a breaking point where shareholder demand for profit will outpace the consumer's ability to provide it and the developer's ability to skinner box it out of us.

Of course Nintendo continues to march on to the beat of its own drum seemingly unaffected by all of this garbage. Not out of any moral superiority, I imagine. More likely it's just a consequence of that company still being in the process of being dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Maybe a few years down the line when everyboy else has abandoned microtransactions Nintendo will pick them up, put a cute Mario motif on it, and we'll be back to square one. Time will tell. We're in a volatile time for games and the timebomb keeps ticking. I just hope the explosion isn't too messy. I guess.