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scottymcgeesterwrites · 3 years

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Final Fantasy XIII Review

Year: 2009

Original Platform: PlayStation 3

Also available on: Xbox 360, PC, Android, iOS

Version I Played: PlayStation 3

Synopsis:

On the planet Cocoon, those who come into contact with anything from the planet Pulse are purged to that planet. Pulse is a feared planet full of monsters and strange creatures. Both planets are ruled by fal’Cie, mechanical godlike beings who sometimes brand humans as their servants for specific tasks, called a focus. Those who fulfill their focus are turned into crystals and obtain eternal life. Those who do not fulfill their focus turn into mindless monsters. Lightning is a former soldier whose sister, Serah, is branded by a fal’Cie and taken to be purged. Lightning sets off to rescue her.

Gameplay:

Going to say this now – the worst gameplay in the entire Final Fantasy series.

The battles are Active Time Battles but instead of you inputting individual commands, there are what’s called paradigms. Paradigms are somewhat like Job Classes from the old Final Fantasy games, except less fun and more automated. You can switch to a Medic paradigm in battle and every time you press “Auto-Battle” your character automatically performs a series of necessary cure and restore spells, based on what’s going on in the battle. The Sentinel paradigm specializes in keeping the enemy at bay. The Ravager paradigm uses magic. The Commando paradigm uses physical attacks. You get the picture.

As a result, the gameplay could be best described as:

With occasional switching of paradigms whenever you see fit. You can set up a number of combinations across the characters. Two Commandos and one Sentinel. One Sentinel and one Ravager and One Commando, etc.

The party automatically heals after each battle – you can even press start during a battle and restart the battle.

I probably only used an item once or twice. I honestly don’t see why they bothered putting any items if you hardly ever use them.

You can upgrade your weapons with pieces and junk you find after battles. You find so many of them that you hardly ever think about what you’re upgrading so long as whatever you make upgrades your stats. Is this better? No? What about this? Okay, good. Moving on.

Like Final Fantasy X, the game is linear. Much more linear. You follow a long hallway for about 30 hours of the game before you can do sidequests. The sidequests involve completing other people’s focus. That’s about it. There are no towns, no inns, no villages. You are entirely on the road, constantly in battle (Okay, there’s like one time where Sazh and Vanille are in a casino or something but that’s about it).

I wrote a blog piece a while back about what exactly was wrong with Final Fantasy XIII, and it’s not that it’s linear. We play really great linear games all the time. It’s the automation – the feeling that you’re not really doing anything.

There isn’t an ounce of customization. Leveling up is similar to the Sphere Grid of Final Fantasy X. It’s called the Crystarium but it follows a strict path. You can’t actually stray anywhere or customize anything. If that’s the case, why bother making you open the menu to level up through the Crystarium? Why not just automatically do it? I guess they want to give you some ounce (more like a milligram) of control over the game.

Basically – you’re watching a long movie and occasionally get to move the people around. That’s how I see it.

Graphics:

PLAYSTATION 3 HD GRAPHICS HOMG DO YOU HAVEA BONER YET? LOOK AT THIS. FIRST FINAL FANTASY GAME IN GLORIOUS HD.

Everything is pretty in this game. Everything. There is nothing wrong with this at all.

Story:

The characters appear to reference those in Final Fantasy VII. Director Motomu Toriyama wanted Lightning to essentially be a female Cloud Strife. She’s a no-nonsense, athletic female lead. While Cloud and Squall were introspective and antisocial, Lightning is slightly different by actively ordering people around. She comes off as a dick to everyone, and that’s due to her ex-soldier background. Think of your stereotypical ex-cop/ex-CIA/ex-military action movie hero, like Liam Neeson (Bryan Mills in Taken) or Bruce Willis (John McClane in Die Hard). That’s basically Lightning.

Can we go on a short tangent for a moment to talk about how weird it is that Lightning was also used as a model for advertising in Japan?

Here she is driving a Nissan.

And wearing Louis Vitton.

Cool? I guess? Unless you start to realize that Toriyama wanted to design his own personal waifu, and that he’s completely obsessed with her. That gets really weird. And sad? A little? Anyway.

Vanille has some reminiscent of Yuffie from Final Fantasy VII, although with more character via her inner monologues and narration. Fang is vaguely like Vincent Valentine. Sazh takes the place of Barrett as the token black dude, except instead of being aggressive he’s more like the comic relief and wants nothing to do with anything. Every time you control him, jazz music plays, because black people I guess. Hope doesn’t appear to be reminiscent of anyone – he’s just this boy who yells and complains a lot with Lightning. Snow meanwhile is a ripoff of Zell from Final Fantasy VIII, except somehow even more annoying.

(Every time I see his picture I think about your typical dude bro at a frat.)

The story starts of a bit choppy as you follow almost each character separately, then they run into each other, then separate again, then join again. The first 30 hours or so gives flashbacks of 13 days prior- BECAUSE IT’S FINAL FANTASY XIII GET IT? Vanille actually narrates some events but it’s not exactly clear why or from when – but that’s a spoiler. Along the way, I got really confused because I didn’t know why some people were fighting each other when they were on the same side a moment ago. The concept of the “focus” is really weird and sometimes confusing. People with a focus simply have visions or a general idea of what they’re supposed to do, but they don’t actually know for sure unless they actively seek it. If the gods granted them a focus, wouldn’t it make more sense if the gods just told them what to do? Seemed to work in Final Fantasy XII.

In short, the narrative weaves around a lot. If you stop playing in the middle and pick up the game again months later, you’re bound to forget what’s going on. I know I did.

The characters didn’t annoy me as much as you would think they would on paper. They all have character development and that’s good. The only character that effectively got on my nerves was Snow. Snow is Serah’s fiancé, and Lightning hates him because of course you need some family drama. I don’t blame Lightning though. Snow shouts cheesy lines left and right, like “Heroes never die!”. He shouts Serah’s name the same way Christian Bale shouts Rachel’s name in the Christopher Nolan Batman films. Snow is quite possibly the most irritating character of all the Final Fantasy games. He will not shut the fuck up about what it means to be a hero.

The rest of the cast works well in that their motives and desires clash with each other. But I’m still sore about the wasted potential for a great character in Jihl Nabaat. Sazh wants his son Dejh back, who was taken to be purged by the sinister and extremely hot Jihl Nabaat.

Goddaaayyyum. Seriously, look at her.

Too bad, because she’s only featured in a handful of scenes and then dies. Her death isn’t a major spoiler, at least one that I consider, because she hardly does anything except get in the way for a moment. You don’t even fight her. How lame is that?

Then you have this annoying bastard – Primarch Dysley.

When I think of him, I think of Mitch McConnell.

Old. Disagreeable. Been in power for too long. Always in the way of progress.

Primarch Dysley happens to be as annoying as Seymour from Final Fantasy X, so expect to be overjoyed every time you run into him.

Overall, the story isn’t as bad as you’d think. You just have to pay close attention. The gameplay is far worse than the story. I could easily slip into a coma while playing this game and still make it pretty far.

Music:

Final Fantasy XII saw the departure of Nobuo Uematsu (well with the exception of the pop song “Kiss Me Goodbye”). Final Fantasy XIII continues to head into the unknown without the beloved longtime composer. This game’s score is composed entirely by Masashi Hamauzu, who if you haven’t been paying attention, already partly worked on Final Fantasy X. I immediately saw how “Saber’s Edge”, the boss theme, is similar in nature to the boss theme of Final Fantasy X.

Final Fantasy XIII made the most radical changes to the score. There are no signature themes from the series. No “Prelude” theme, no “Main Theme”, no “Victory Fanfare” theme. Instead, we get a theme called “Fabula Nova Crystallis”. It plays frequently throughout the game, and almost acts as Serah and Snow’s love theme. In some portions of the game, some woman is singing along. Yes – this is the first time where you roam around a world in a Final Fantasy game with actual pop music playing in the background – “Sunleth Waterscape” to be exact. Final Fantasy XIII’s music gets pretty poppy.

youtube

Not saying it’s a bad idea.

Just.

You got pop music playing in the background now.

“Lightning’s Theme” is pretty sick. Her theme plays during the battles in a rendition called “Blinded by Light” – HA GET IT BECAUSE SHE’S LIGHTNING. SO CLEVER.

But Hamauzu was a good choice – the entire score holds up well and sounds like a movie score, with varying motifs running across. It can be a bit more subdued but that’s how contemporary instrumental music is nowadays, especially with film composers like Hans Zimmer.

Notable Theme:

“Blinded by Light”

Really epic, unique song. I always scat along to it as it plays.

youtube

Verdict:

Uff.

Look, if you just search on YouTube for all the cutscenes, there you go. That’s the game. And it’s entertaining to watch. But it has the worst gameplay that doesn’t feel like you’re even doing anything. No sense of customization or originality.

Direct Sequel?

Yes, two.

Final Fantasy XIII-2.

I started it around the time it first came out, but I’m still in the middle of playing it and I have no idea what’s going on in the story. NO idea. NONE at all. They use time travel but none of it makes sense. Apparently changing things in the future can change the past. I don’t know how. I only understand a vague semblance of a plot with the bad guy Caius. While it doesn’t tarnish the dignity of the original like Final Fantasy X-2 did, it’s still offbeat with its metal (yes, metal) music and utterly confounding story. It’s infamous for this metal rendition of the sweet and innocent Chocobo theme.

Then there’s the third game, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII

I plan on playing it after I finish Final Fantasy XIII-2, if I don’t already die from an aneurysm by then. It’s supposed to be better than Final Fantasy XIII-2 but lacking in graphics.

#final fantasy #final fantasy xiii #final fantasy xiii-2 #lightning returns #lightning #final fantasy lightning #cloud strife #cloud clone #vanille #jihl nabaat #mitch mcconnell #video games #rpg #video game rpg #fantasy rpg #onvideogames

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Welcome back, everyone!

We’re now on Chapter Eight and once again the story is told from Velvet’s perspective. So our starting question is: why is she getting the most attention so far? If memory serves, the PoV order has been Coco, Velvet, Sun, Fox, Yatsu, Velvet, Scarlet, Velvet again — meaning that in a text balancing eight main characters, so far four of them have received a single chapter, two (Sage and Neptune) zero chapters, and one three chapters. That seems rather imbalanced. I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense if we factor in RWBY viewers’ familiarity with Velvet, but I’d wager we’ve gotten far more screen time with Sun overall. My only point being, why Velvet? It’s not that you can’t make her a focal point of the narrative, I just haven’t seen anything to explain that choice in the first 100+ pages. Her perspective hasn’t brought anything unique to the story, something we couldn’t have gotten from the seven other characters involved in these events… but here we are, back with Velvet for the next six pages.

Yeah, this chapter is short. Silver lining?

We learn that Team NOVA is on their second mission — why bother showing us the first when they’re an entirely new, volatile team, right? That would be silly! — escorting a technician “through the Grimm-infested mountains just outside of Oscuro Combat School.” So Shade students regularly conduct real huntsmen work but throw a fit over having to spar with one another? Interesting. See, if I were a civilian who got even a glimpse of what goes on inside these schools, I would not trust these kids with my life.

Lo and behold, things go horribly! We learn right off the bat that “The technician had been knocked unconscious in a skirmish with a band of Dromedons.” For those of you with an iffy memory like mine, these are the camel-like creatures that spit acid and… that’s about all we know about them. That’s really all we need for this scene though because this grimm nailed the tech in his leg, a wound which now requires “serious medical attention.” Great. Gus Caspian, who I learn is a younger friend from the previous novel, is trying to treat the wound as best he can, clearly a little freaked out about being here, “but apparently Oscuro teachers didn’t coddle students any more than Theodore did.”

Do you expect them to? Despite Atlas being the only one who combines their academies with their military, we can’t pretend like these schools aren’t teaching teenagers to wield deadly weapons and kill things with them. There’s no institution on Earth (or Remnant) that should “coddle” those looking to take on that responsibility. I mean yeah, we had moments where Ozpin encouraged them to be kids, like after the food fight and during the dance, but he still took a hard stance whenever there was an actual lesson in the works: “No. You will be falling.” Based on the age of the students, the academies are akin to colleges. In real world college if you don’t do your work or don’t pay attention in class, well… nothing that bad happens. This is by no means a call to not do you work, merely an acknowledgement from a formerly grade obsessed student that individual test scores really don’t have the impact on your life that it feels like they will at the time. Trust me on this. So yeah, some leeway is great in the real world… but when the students are fighting monsters and defending others from death? Then the schools should absolutely discourage any slacker-esque attitude. The concept of any institution “coddling” huntsmen is horrifying.

Note though that the chapter starts after all the action has taken place. We skip the rest of reinitiation. We skip NOVA’s first mission. We skip the attack that landed Velvet in this predicament. It’s not automatically a bad technique provided you’re skipping over boring parts to get to the interesting bits… but this isn’t interesting. We learn almost nothing new from this scene: Velvet misses her old team, her new teammates don’t believe in her, Nebula is mean. Those are the emotional beats here — things we’ve known for at least three chapters now. The only thing that’s introduced is the advertisement on Gus’ scroll, which could have been been added to any other scene.

Let’s revise a bit:

We get to see the battle against the Dromedons wherein Velvet uses her camera, revealing her weapon to Team NOVA and earning more of their respect. Information about Gus’ improvement is shown through his combat abilities as he’s unexpectedly chucked into this battle (perhaps with him using his semblance to further his growth there too). While taking a hit he loses his scroll, slightly damaging it. In the aftermath Velvet retrieves it for him and finds this ad displayed, growing curious. Over the course of Gus’ explanations the rest of Team NOVA is clued into Velvet’s worry and suspicion. What’s wrong? It’s just an ad. But you’re clearly hiding something… Now, does she tell her new team about the Crown, or keep it silent and risk the tenuous trust they’ve just created?

Why is Myers skipping over all the action and potential growth?

Instead we get the boring stuff. Velvet admires Gus’ uniform because of how it’s built for the heat and recalls that “Coco had been messing around with new outfit designs for Team CFVY.” I swear though, 95% of my enjoyment with this novel comes from the throwaway details. I would actually like seeing how Coco combines her personal love of fashion with the necessity of designing combat gear appropriate for the environment. Maybe they frame it as merely a hobby outside of their huntsmen work, giving them an excuse to keep helping their former teammates. That could be cool!

Though of course, this is the series where Cinder, Neo, Hazel, and Emerald all walk into the ice Kingdom with skin bared, so...

(You all are going to freeze to death, have fun.)

“Velvet’s ears swiveled around, listening for danger.” That’s anything detail I like. At the very least Before the Dawn remembers that Velvet is a faunus and frequently incorporates that into her character. She’s on the lookout because other than Gus tending the unconscious technician, she’s alone “on the sidelines.” It’s framed simultaneously as the group rejecting her and as an unavoidable necessity: “it wasn’t like she didn’t have an important task of her own [repairing the relay], one that none of her teammates had the expertise to perform.”

Wait. Why does Velvet have this expertise?

The justification is that she’s “handy with electronics” and “Anesidora was incredibly complicated, and she’d designed it herself,” but that’s like saying “I built a computer so I’ll come fix your refrigerator. That’s easier.” I don’t know, maybe someone with the ability to build a computer from the ground up could figure out a refrigerator on the fly, but they feel like different skill-sets to me. All electronics are not built the same and claiming that because you understand one you automatically understand all others — even supposedly simpler pieces of tech — seems a little suspect. If that were the case, we’d have no need for experts who fix your phone, your television, your toaster, and your watch. Surely if you understand one you understand the others, right? It’s the same assumption here: If Velvet can understand building a hard light weapon, then she must understand relay communications too!

…right.

She even goes so far as to say that they “probably should have left the technician at Oscuro—she could have done this on her own” yet just a few minutes later it’s, “Velvet double-checked everything. She didn’t know what was wrong. She glanced back at the technician, Gus still at his side. The guy was out cold. He’d taken a pretty hard knock to the head. Well, she had tried.” So she’s confident enough to think that the technician is unnecessary one moment and then looking to him for help the next? Which of course isn’t followed by any sort of revelation. Velvet doesn’t acknowledge that her knowledge isn’t as specialized as she had assumed it was, or that huntsmen rely on non-combat experts for other things. She just shrugs and…

…kicks it.

Yeah. Velvet’s skill amounts to kicking the box until it works. Which, of course, it does.

I can’t with this novel.

More seriously though, that’s terrible characterization. Not only does it undermine Velvet’s actual skill to reduce it to being “handy with electronics” — isn’t every huntsmen “handy with electronics” then, considering they all build their gun/energy/dust weaponry in school? — but it adds another layer of supposed uselessness to the adult professionals around her. Theodore doesn’t teach them anything because, as their headmaster, he’s removed from everyday interactions. Rumpole can’t be trusted now and every lesson she tries to impart is rejected. The unnamed technician who is referred to only by his professional title is deemed unnecessary, knocked out, and then indeed proves useless when Velvet magically does his job for him. So why are any of them in school? Why aren’t they just running the world with their superior knowledge and skill-sets? Every time the RWBY franchise puts its characters in a position where they might actually learn something through failure, it pulls back at the last second. ‘Never mind, they actually knew this all along!’ Or, ‘Never mind, the things they’ve been taught are stupid, so best to forget them!’ I struggle to understand what kind of story I’m reading — or watching — when the characters are already framed as perfect. Or rather, flaws absolutely exist (as these recaps attest), but the story pretends they’re not there.

I hesitate to use the term “Mary Sue” here due to its origins and history. Meaning, the Mary Sue was conceived of as a parody, a deliberate exaggeration to comment on the types of characters written in the Star Trek fandom. Then people began using “Mary Sue” as a catch-all term for any female character that people deemed too talented (regardless of how talented their male counterparts might be), we started acknowledging the sexist undertones of that, then started reclaiming the term as something to celebrate and embrace… but we haven’t quite gotten there yet. “Mary Sue” is still a pretty loaded name to force on a character and it carries a lot of implications that I absolutely do not want to attach to Velvet. Yet it’s also the closest term I know to describe the act of an author giving a character what feels like a badly justified skillset. Such as “handy with technology” actually meaning “can fix anything powered by electricity or Dust as the plot needs.”

Velvet is the action movie hacker going, “I’m in” is what I’m getting at. It’s not a compliment lol.

During all this grimm watching and relay fixing, Gus wants to know why they don’t just high-tail it out of there. Especially since the person they brought to do a specific job can no longer do that job. Mission’s a bust. Velvet gives what sounds like a decent explanation: “Retreating from Grimm isn’t an option when you’re fighting this close to a settlement. If we leave without destroying them, the Grimm will just look for another target.” AKA the settlement itself.

Thing is, by this logic any grimm that are currently close enough to attack them are already close enough to the settlement to latch onto those people as the next target. They’d pick up on the civilians whether Velvet’s group was there to kill them or not. The group is there though, so they feel responsible, but why not just head to the settlement anyway? If the grimm follow you, fine. You can still fight them AND you now get the additional benefit of any other huntsmen/students who might be there. If they don’t follow you, great. If they were close enough to the settlement all along… again, this was always going to happen.

Which, to be clear, isn’t the worst stance to take. I understand them wanting to avoid any potential risk by leaving/leading the grimm towards anyone else. I only want to point out the additional stupidity of fighting them when you’ve already got an unconscious civilian in your care, a barely trained student, and the whole reason you came out here might now be for naught. Yeah, Velvet gets the relay working with her magic kick and yeah, the rest of the team handles the grimm just fine, but none of them are able to see into the future and know that both these events will occur. Gus’ ‘Why are we staying here? It’s dangerous and pointless’ question has merit.

But of course, no one in RWBY would ever consider retreat. It’s a very iffy characteristic at this point.

We learn — or at least I learn now — that Gus’ semblance is the ability to enhance others’ emotions, so basically the opposite of Ren’s. That would indeed be incredibly handy provided he has good control over it. We get another reference to Yatsuhashi’s “meditation exercises” that helped Gus’ grandfather in the last novel. Velvet theorizes that his improved memory has more to do with Yatsuhashi’s semblance than any generic meditation: “No one knew for sure what Yatsuhashi had done with his Semblance when he’d tried to heal Edward’s mind … even Yatsuhashi wasn’t sure. His ability was to erase memories, but it was possible that there was more to Yatsu’s Semblance than that.” Um… subtle yikes? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad things have turned out well for the guy, but if I were the grandfather—or a family member of his—I wouldn’t really want a student messing around with my mind when he “wasn’t sure” what he was doing. Especially when the base skill is to erase memories, not recover or strengthen them. Honestly, I love taking a good look at fantasy series because half the time you realize how horrifying things actually are, once you strip away the common place aspects of these skills. An equivalent third year college student is running around experimenting with peoples’ memories to see if he can achieve something other than erasing them. Great!

The good thing is that Yatsuhashi is just as suspicious of this power as I am. Velvet things that he “hated messing with people’s minds.” Understandable, bud. I’d hate the ability too.

While they’ve got this time alone, Gus mentions that he had planned to contact Velvet soon anyway. Two of his classmates have gone missing and though his school has told Shade about it—there’s at least some of that additional info that Rumpole mentioned—he wanted to let her know too because remember, no one in this franchise trusts the professionals to fix problems. It’s a mindset I’d better understand if the professionals were actually inept. Or the protagonists weren’t training to be those professionals. It’s still exceedingly weird to me that there’s so little respect and trust for huntsmen while they desperately try to become huntsmen…

Something something broken systems, but RWBY isn’t interested in exploring that.

So yeah, Gus ropes Velvet in with the hope that she can help. He says that they were last seen attending a new club called Mirage that hosts one-on-one fights for a championship title. So… it’s not really a club, right? Sure, sure, we’ve all seen Fight Club, but generally that’s used to describe dancing, not fighting. It’s a rather misleading term for what they were actually looking for. No one else finds this odd though. Nor that the information was sent out to select, powerful individuals. Nothing shady about this, folks! Velvet obviously recognizes all these details—a club, powerful semblances, a crown in the advertisement—and asks Gus to pass it along to her.

Our plot forwarded ever so slightly, their conversation ends as Arslan calls Velvet on the now fixed connection. One of the first thing she says is that Octavia used the other students as bait for the grimm.

At least Velvet shares my reaction: “What?!”

Octavia then takes an already bad situation and makes it that much worse. Listening in, she defiantly says, “That’s right. And it worked. It’s called strategy.” She confirms that the students are “mostly” okay and taunts Velvet about inviting them to her “Baby Brigade and you can all cry about it!” I hope I don’t need to take up precious document space by explaining how awful this is. Overlooking the fact that these would-be huntsmen are willing to put their younger peers’ lives in danger like that—and then mock them for needing mental health resources after the fact—why is Octavia the one pulling the murderous Mean Girl act? Yeah, she was an asshole during reinitiation, but wasn’t the whole point of that to demonstrate that she and Velvet got a little closer? Even if she won’t admit it? She saved Velvet from flying down that hole, but now she risks the lives of students at least three years her junior? If anyone should be this violent and antagonistic towards Velvet, it’s Nebula. The most she’s done for Velvet is offer a hand up, otherwise we just watched her express glee in getting to fight her and mock her for not abandoning Beacon… the same sort of behavior we’re seeing from Octavia now. Does Myers think that these two characters are interchangeable? That he can just pick one willy-nilly per chapter and let her play at being Velvet’s Mean Girl?

As a lovely anon reminded me recently, these are also the girls that were created and backed by fans. If I had put money and creative energy into these OCs, I’d be pretty frustrated with how the RT team has been treating them.

Arslan at least is complimentary towards Velvet for fixing the relay—“Truly, great work today”— and Velvet herself is appropriately shocked at Octavia’s behavior. That’s more emotional consistency than I’ve come to expect of this book, so I’ll take whatever little bits I can get.

Arslan signs off with plans to meet back up soon and Velvet thinks about how “everyone was safe after the mission, which was no small thing.” I’d agree… except for Velvet’s early thoughts about how easy this mission supposedly was and Octavia’s decision to put her teammates in danger. It sounds like if anything did go sideways, it’s in part because you chose to enter this overconfidently and then actively made it more dangerous.

Finally, the chapter ends with Velvet believing that she might be able to make her new team work with time. Our final line, in its own paragraph is: “If they had time.”

Am I the only one who finds this weird? The line reads like an omniscient bit of foreboding. Velvet thinks about how she just needs time and we, the reader, hear that this won’t be possible. Except this chapter is told from Velvet’s perspective. So why does she think they might not have time? Because of the Crown? I assume there will be an attack towards the end of the novel—can’t have a RWBY story without the final, epic battle—but right now Velvet has no reason to believe that an attack is imminent, or that the teams will change back, or anything else that would interfere with her hopes of strengthening this relationship… so why the rather confident sounding pessimism? I don’t know. I don’t pretend to know anymore lol.

At least this chapter was short? As said, silver linings. We’re still treading water though: Velvet’s bond with her new team seems to have regressed after two missions, rather than improved, and Gus didn’t reveal anything we didn’t already know, just further confirmed it. I assume that next chapter Velvet and the others will visit Mirage. Let’s hope something actually happens then.

See you! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #mymetas #Before the Dawn #BTD Recaps

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mercyxkilling · 3 years

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memory meme

@emptyvictory asked: ☽ - a memory of their father

it was getting dark, the sky painted with the brilliant oranges and pinks, slowly fading into purples as the waning sunlight began to disappear and make way for the night. it was fairly clear with little cloud cover, and the air was warm without being stifling. it should have been a perfect evening.

but mercy couldn’t enjoy any of it. she was restless, anxious, and wanted to be anywhere but home. her mother would still be awake, probably drunk by now, and if she walked through the front door mercy knew that miserable bitch would start in on her. it would escalate and she’d end the night in her room, throat raw from screaming with tears streaming down her face. it was pathetic really. no matter how much she tried to steel herself from that woman and her verbal and physical onslaughts mercy never could seem to find the right kind of armor to wear into battle. it was a shame it was so late; she’d have gone to benny’s house to hang out if she could. there were times that she’d stay over, the two of them awkwardly sharing a bed because they both refused to sleep on the floor, pretending as if the circumstances that drove her there weren’t so dire and awful. and no matter how sad and vulnerable she might have felt, benny never once tried to use that as a foothold to get into her pants. instead he was supportive and respectful, though mercy knew she was toeing a line each time she’d crawl under the covers and ask to be held. there was nothing romantic about it to her, it was only a reassurance that she was capable of being cared for by another human being, but... well. she wasn’t stupid, either. maybe it was better she couldn’t head over there now. there were boundaries she wanted to keep in place and she refused to let their friendship to be breached because she was sending all the wrong signals.

so instead she found herself out in the garage and under the hood of the nova, trying to figure out what needed to be replaced or repaired so she could finally get it up and running. it had sat out on some lot in the midst of weeds and decay and the moment she laid her eyes on it she knew that this was going to be her dream car. most might have thought her odd to have such a fascination with vehicles, but her dad encouraged her and told her she could damn well like whatever she wanted to, and that was good enough for her. his word was law. he was a cop after all.

the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway made her turn to look over her shoulder. speak of the devil. when he got out and thumped the car door shut with his hip, she noticed that he had two cups in each hand, and mercy lifted a brow and cocked her head in confusion. why did he need two coffees? and at this time of night?

“hey, kid i kinda figured you’d still be up, so i got you somethin’. coffee?” he lifted his left hand, then said, “or tea?” and lifted the other.

“uhh. tea?”

after all, she couldn’t imagine her dad ever drinking tea even once in his life. it just didn’t suit him and his gruff demeanor.

“wrong. it’s coffee. they’re both coffee. take it.”

“ugh. daaaad,” she groaned, but still couldn’t help but grin, especially when her father looked so damn pleased with himself and his terrible jokes.

“all right, all right. i’m sorry. now. since you’re out here,” he grunted as he sank down in a nearby lawn chair that they’d had set up ages ago for nights like this. “i assume your mom’s lost in the sauce tonight and you’re tryin’ to ride it out?”

“mmhmm,” she nodded as she sat in the chair next to him, both of them staring ahead at the rusty old nova rather than each other. but mercy was thankful that her dad talked to her this way. something about it made it easier.

“i’m sorry, kid. how’re you holdin’ up?”

“all right, i guess. just tired.”

“hi, tired. i’m dad.”

“oh my god, if you keep doing this i’ll never talk to you again, dad, i swear.”

he laughed and reached out to affectionately pat her on the shoulder. he wasn’t very big on hugs, but at least he made an attempt to let his daughter know that he loved her, regardless of how bad he was at doing it.

“okay, okay. i’m done now. for real this time.” the man cradled the coffee cup in his hands for a moment, then brought it to his lips to take a swig. he grimaced, then spoke again. “terrible stuff. you should try it.”

“i’ve never understood that. why would i drink it now after you just told me it was gross?”

“because i want ya to see how bad it is for yourself.”

“no. that’s stupid.”

“yeah, i guess that’s fair.”

and then they were quiet. it was easy to talk about things on the surface, the superficial and unimportant garbage that surrounded them each day, but... it wasn’t quite so easy to tackle the deeper issues. neither of them knew how to handle emotions, either experiencing them or helping another through them, though it didn’t mean that either of them didn’t want to. it was just starting the conversation that was particularly hard, at least for mercy.

she set the cup down on the concrete floor of the garage and started tugging on a stray dark curl. then her knee started to bounce and she moved on to biting at her fingernails.

“hey, hey, hey. stop that. talk to me. what’s on your mind?”

she didn’t know what to say or how to say it, so mercy just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“dad. do you think i’m weird?”

“definitely.”

“no, dad--that’s not--i meant--”

“mercy. of course you’re weird. but i don’t mean that in a bad way. in fact, i think it’s what makes ya goddamn amazin’. when you’re a kid the world tells ya that ya hafta fit in with everyone else. that bein’ different is bad and makes ya a monster or somethin’. but when ya get old the world says, ‘fuck ya, individualism is the way to go,’ and then ya realize... no matter how much ya don’t want it, you’re just as average as everyone else. but you, kid. you,” he reached out and grabbed her hand to pull it away from her mouth, partly to stop her from gnawing what was left of her fingernails off and partly because he just wanted to be supportive. “you got somethin’ special about ya. and i’m so damn proud of ya for knowin’ who ya are this early in life. not a lot of people get that luxury.”

“but mom said--”

“fuck. her. mercy... ya know you can’t believe a goddamn word that comes out of that woman’s mouth. she’s a fuckin’ snake and wants to cut ya down because she’s threatened by ya. that fire that drives ya forward no matter what happens, to keep pushin’ through... she’s jealous of that. scared of it even.”

mercy turned to look at her father askance, hiding behind her thick tresses so he wouldn’t try to conceal anything from her if he knew she was watching. despite all that caustic bite to his tone she could see in his eyes that there was a profound sadness there, and perhaps even a bit of loneliness, too. he had to have loved her once. and she might have been a different person then, someone who wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch capable of destroying others without a second thought. he must have been in so much pain, but he never talked to her about any of it. who was going to be there for him to lean on when he needed it?

mercy opened her mouth to speak, but her father started talking again before she could say anything at all.

“listen to me, kid. ya owe her nothin’. ya hear me? absolutely nothin’. and i know how much ya wanna hang on to the idea that she could change, and i know ya’ve tried to make her proud, but... there’s no pleasin’ that woman. and it doesn’t matter anyway. the one person that ya hafta live with for the rest of yer life is you. not me, not yer brother, not yer mom, not benny... it’s you, kid. so ya need to focus on makin’ yaself happy before anything else. i don’t want ya chasin’ after yer mother’s approval when ya could be spendin’ time makin’ yer mark on the world. and my god, mercy, i know yer gonna change things and leave the world in better shape than ya found it.”

she couldn’t stop the tears that were streaming down her face, but they were happy tears. how long had it been since she could say she’d cried because she felt such warmth, affection, and genuine fucking happiness? her dad had never opened up like this to her before, but she was glad that he did tonight. mercy needed to hear all of that, to know that he believed in her. as long as she had her dad in her corner she knew she could do anything.

“thanks, dad.”

“any time, weirdo.”

“you’re such a dick.”

but she still laughed as she playfully punched him in the arm.

“that is very true. now. while i’m here and we’re both still up...let’s take a look at that engine. i think the camshafts might need replaced. whaddya think?”

that was very much like her dad, to deflect once things got too heavy or emotional to deal with. but mercy was actually pretty thankful for it since she didn’t want to sit in silence bawling her eyes out next to him. she’d rather do something with more purpose. so with that she got to her feet and made her way over to the nova to look under her hood again.

“you’re probably right. crankshafts look all right, though...”

and for a good long while they worked together, dissecting the engine and deciding what needed fixed or replaced, so they could make a list of parts to get in the morning. because that’s what you did when things were broken. you swapped out what didn’t work for the things that did, and you just kept moving forward.

and now she had the extra incentive to do just that.

#emptyvictory #meme #so uh #this #ended up being way longer than i ever intended it to be #but #i've never really been able to write anything about her dad #so #i kinda went ham

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Are All Marvel Villains Androids, Aliens, or Wizards?

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It is now T-minus one week until the long-awaited premiere of Marvel’s next Disney+ series, The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, on March 19. To mark the show’s impending arrival, Marvel is ramping up its publicity game and unleashing new trailers and clips of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes in action.

In one such clip, released today, Sam shares an interesting theory with his rival/counterpart Bucky. Give it a look below to see what we mean.

“The Big Three – androids, aliens, wizards. Every time we fight, we fight one of the three,” Sam says.

Bucky tries to challenge Sam’s assertion by pointing out there are no wizards. Sam immediately counters with Doctor Strange. “A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat.”

Fair play, Falcon! The conversation ends there but Sam might be onto something with his theory of The Big Three. But just like any good theory, it needs some strenuous scientific testing. Let’s do that testing right now by looking back at the big bad of every MCU film released thus far (plus the studio’s first official television effort, WandaVision) to see which villains can be categorized as: androids, aliens, wizards, or other.

Obadiah Stane (Iron Monger)

Movie: Iron Man Villain Type: ANDROID

Obadiah Stane isn’t a literal android. He is a flesh and blood human being underneath all that Iron Monger armor. But viewing him as an android seems in keeping with the spirit of Sam Wilson’s Big Three argument. Let’s just give The Falcon a win out of the gate.

Emil Blonsky (Abomination)

Movie: The Incredible Hulk Villain Type: OTHER

Like The Hulk, himself, Abomination is an enhanced human rage monster. He has no mechanical parts, so he is not an Android. He also comes from Earth, so he is not an alien. If we wanted to be suuuuuuper generous, we could say the gamma rays that created both The Hulk and Abomination are so scientifically advanced that they may as well be magic, making him a wizard. But that’s too much of a stretch. Emil is in the “Other” category.

Ivan Vanko (Whiplash)

Movie: Iron Man 2 Villain Type: OTHER

If Ivan Vanko decided to completely cover his body with Iron Monger-style armor, we may have an argument for Android. But really, he’s just a mad scientist who loves his bird. One could also make the argument that Justin Hammer is the real villain of Iron Man 2. That’s a fair point but it leads to the same result: “Other.”

Loki

Movie: Thor Villain Type: WIZARD

Wait, why isn’t Loki an alien? He comes from a different world in outer space, whether that be Asgard or Jotunheim. It’s important to remember, however, that Loki isn’t an alien to the other Asgardian characters in Thor. Instead, let’s call him a Wizard due to his advanced magical capabilities.

Johann Schmidt (Red Skull)

Movie: Captain America: The First Avenger Villain Type: OTHER

Red Skull does like to meddle in the magic of the Tesseract. He also has a very wizardly appearance when he is cast off to Vormir. A wizardly appearance does not a wizard make though. Johann Schmidt is an augmented human being just like Steve Rogers or Bruce Banner.

Loki

Movie: The Avengers Villain Type: ALIEN

Surprise! Loki is a Wizard in Thor but an Alien in The Avengers. That’s because the perspective of The Avengers is mostly Earthbound. And to we mortals on Earth, Loki really is an alien leading a War of the Worlds-style invasion in New York.

Aldrich Killian

Movie: Iron Man 3 Villain Type: ANDROID

Aldrich Killian certainly doesn’t have the look of an Android. But due to the amount of Extremis genetic manipulation his body has endured, he is basically more machine than man. And if you’re tempted to say “Aldrich Killian can’t be an android! He has human sentience and intelligence” then you’re gonna have to keep that same energy when we get to Ultron.

Malekith

Movie: Thor: The Dark World Villain Type: ALIEN

Malekith is a hard one to nail down. We’ve already established that Loki can’t be an alien in Thor because he’s a peer to his fellow Asgardians (even if he is a Frost Giant). Given that Malekith comes from another one of the Nine Realms, Svartalfheim, it’s fair to call him an Alien.

Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier)

Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Villain Type: ANDROID

Look, the rules are pretty loose here. You have your memory wiped and you get a vibranium arm? Android. Technically, Alexander Pierce and the compromised SHIELD are the real villains of this movie. But bear in mind that Sam Wilson says that everyone they fought falls into one of those three categories. It’s Bucky who does the lion’s share of fighting in this film.

Ronan the Accuser

Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Villain Type: ALIEN

This is another tough one. Would Ronan the Accuser be considered an alien among his galactic peers? Given that the Kree Empire is a rival to the Nova Empire, let’s go ahead and alienize Ronan.

Ultron

Movie: Avengers: Age of Ultron Villain Type: ANDROID

Duh.

Darren Cross (Yellowjacket)

Movie: Ant-Man Villain Type: OTHER

If the Iron Monger armor makes Obadiah Stane an Android, then why doesn’t the Yellowjacket suit make Darren Cross an Android? Great question! The answer is…I don’t know. Hank Pym’s shrinking technology just seems like more of a tool for human beings than an at-times autonomous piece of armor.

Helmut Zemo

Movie: Captain America: Civil War Villain Type: OTHER

Helmut Zemo is a disaffected Sokovian radical. He does not fit any of the other three categorizations.

Kaecilius

Movie: Doctor Strange Villain Type: WIZARD

Duh.

Ego

Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 Villain Type: ALIEN

Sure, a sentient Celestial planet is an alien.

Adrian Toomes (The Vulture)

Movie: Spider-Man: Homecoming Villain Type: OTHER

Adrian Toomes is not only just a human being, he might be one of the MCU’s most human villains. To the “Other” category with you, Vulture.

Hela

Movie: Thor: Ragnarok Villain Type: WIZARD

As the all-powerful goddess of death, Hela defies easy categorization. But you know what? If Thor-era Loki falls under the category of Wizard, then so too does Hela.

Erik Stevens (Killmonger)

Movie: Black Panther Villain Type: OTHER

Human. Very human.

Thanos

Movie: Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame Villain Type: ALIEN

Thanos is the big bad of the MCU’s Infinity Saga. He’s also a consummate alien invader. He comes from the stars to wipe out half of all life on Earth. Well, he wipes out half of all life in the universe, but it’s the former that matters to our Earthly perspective.

Ava Starr (Ghost)

Movie: Ant-Man and the Wasp Villain Type: OTHER

Whenever Pym particles and advanced levels of technology are involved, you always want to at least give consideration to “Android.” But “Other” is still very much the answer here. Ava Starr isn’t even really the main villain of Ant-Man and the Wasp so much as she is a victim. Perhaps she should be omitted entirely from the villain discussion.

Yon-Rogg

Movie: Captain Marvel Villain Type: ALIEN

Since Carol Danvers is our protagonist and Captain Marvel is told from her perspective, it’s safe to call Jude Law’s Yon-Rogg an alien.

Quentin Beck (Mysterio)

Movie: Spider-Man: Far From Home Villain Type: OTHER

Quentin Beck is a normal human being and therefore an “Other.” I’m just realizing something now though – why did Quentin Beck go by his real name to Talos (posing as Nick Fury) and Peter Parker? Surely, he has Stark Industries listed on his LinkedIn page. Could the entire plot of this movie have been avoided if anyone thought to run a Google search on this guy who claims he’s from another dimension?

Agatha Harkness

Show: WandaVision Villain Type: WIZARD

Who’s the wizard lady pulling every evil string? It was Agatha All Along!

Results

This all leads to the Marvel villain final tally of…

ALIEN – 6 ANDROID – 4 WIZARD – 4 OTHER – 9

It looks like Sam Wilson almost has the right of it. More than half of Marvel villains can be described as androids, aliens, or wizards. But the “Other” option is bigger than any single one of those three categories.

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spiiderwiick · 4 years

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Wick had ended up quickly distracted from their chaotic weekend adventure by the haunt tear down deadline. A month to build it all and two weeks to tear it down, clean everything up, and leave no trace behind.

Still, the conversation with Patches was ever present in the back of their mind. In denial? Them? How could they possibly be in denial when they were the one actively befriending monsters? Patches had brought up their friends in that moment too, hadn’t she? What did their friends know that they didn’t?

Wick ruminated on this for a good week of teardown before they finally made the decision to act on it. Who to ask? Nyx seemed like a no-bullshit sort of person who would tell them the truth.. If they could get him to talk instead of tease them about cryptid hunting, especially after the fucking weremoth. They decided against going to him first. There was Cicero, he seemed more likely than Nyx to answer them without assuming they were going on about hunting monsters. Unfortunately, Wick knew those two would be together out here, so there was no talking to one without the other. Maybe Nova. Nova was nice, she’d never judge them.

Wick found her packing props into crates, getting them ready to be loaded onto the trailers. The starry raven beamed at them with a small wave as they hopped in to help, “Hey hon!” “hey yourself.” Wick smiled and went to grab a few of the heavier looking items for her, “i actually had something i wanted to ask you.”

“Oh? Well I might have an answer for you.” She leaned on the edge of the crate, letting them do the heavy lifting for a moment.

Wick hesitated, wondering how best to word their questions, “so uh... you know how patches is some kind of fuck shit magic clown monster, right?”

“Yes honey, we’re all familiar with the kind of fuck shit magic clown monster she is, especially after Halloween night.” Nova laughed, “What about her?”

“not.. her per se. but uh.. after her and that. weremoth. thing. as she described it. i’ve been wondering a lot about what else is out there, you know?” Wick can’t help but feel anxious about what might come out of their friend’s mouth next, not that she’s ever given them reason to feel that way.

Nova tilted her head ever so slightly, “Is that your question? What else is out there?”

Despite the lack of judgement in her voice, Wick still felt judged, “i guess. i mean... yeah. i mean. unless you’ve seen something i haven’t. then i guess it’d be have you seen any weird magic or monster stuff?”

Nova didn’t reply immediately, but something about the way her gaze drifted told Wick she had something to say. In their anxiety, they interpreted it as something derisive, at least until she waved them closer, “It’s.. A secret, but..”

The raven pulled out her phone from a hidden pocket in her scarf and navigated to her photos. Wick watched intently as she scrolled down to a series of what looked like regular crow photos until she opened them. The crow in question was awfully faint looking. Spectral, even.

"They help me with my work, and only ever seem to want my spare pins and needles in return. I don’t think they even eat.” Her voice was quiet, but she couldn’t hide her excitement about sharing such a big secret.

“nova it looks like a ghost, ghosts don’t eat.”

“How would you know? Are you suddenly an expert on all things magic?”

“well. i mean. no, but..”

“Then you don’t know.” She replied cheerfully, “And isn’t that neat?”

Wick dropped the next item into the crate with a loud clunk, “so let me get this straight, you have a pet ghost.”

“They’re not a ghost!” Nova almost sounded offended. Almost, “And they’re not my pet either.”

“dude if it floats like a ghost and is transparent like a ghost, you have a fucking ghost. they’re a ghost.” Wick started off incredibly serious but their face soon split into a grin, “and if you’re feeding them pins and needles, and they live in your house, then you’ve got yourself a goddamn pet ghost.”

“If they’re a ghost they don’t live in my house.” Nova teased back.

“semantics.” Wick snorted. It felt good to release the tension they’d been holding, “is your pet ghost the only weird thing you’ve seen? cause like. i’m quickly learning how magic and monsters are somehow common as fuck but still rare? or are we just weirdness magnets?”

“Hon, you’re helping me tear down a haunt. You’ve got a severed head in your hands. We are absolutely weirdness magnets.”

That earned another laugh from Wick as they chucked the foam head into the crate, “i know the whole deal is that everyone fits in here no matter how much of an outcast or weirdo they are at school but like... i didn’t think that applied to real ass monsters.”

Nova raised a brow, “Which one of us invited a murderous clown to act in the haunt?”

“look she showed up here all on her own last year. i just gave her something to do that didn’t involve a potential lawsuit landing in our laps cause she decided to get hungry in the middle of the night.” Plus, you know, the whole saving them as a consequence of hanging around the show each night. They couldn’t forget that.

“And the shape shifter? You said he was an eldritch god?” They hated the smug smile that had creeped onto her face.

“benrey is my friend and he’s not even from this world he doesn’t count.” This had gone in a circle, “you didn’t answer my question!”

Nova laughed as she hauled a few more awkward props into the box, making sure they fit snugly in there, “Wick... Have you ever seen a moth with wings like Nyx’s?”

“uh? nyx? obviously?”

“Hon....” She sounded exasperated in record time.

“what? are you gonna tell me he’s some kind of monster? just cause he’s got weird wings? that’s kinda judgmental of you, don’t you think?” Wick crossed their arms stubbornly.

“I love you but you really are oblivious sometimes.” Nova shook her head, “A lot of people are.”

Wick opened their mouth to speak. Then closed it again. It was one thing having Patches tell them that and something else entirely coming from one of their closest friends. It hurt a little. Part of them felt defensive about it, “well gee, i’m sorry for just assuming my friends are... not monsters???? in a world where monsters supposedly don’t exist???”

They almost blurted out “normal”. That would have been a mistake. They were glad they caught themselves.

“Ah...” The raven smiled, “That’s a fair point, I suppose. Did you think Patches was from some other world too?”

“well? yeah???? obviously? she hasn’t been shy about the fact that she can apparently travel literally anywhere in any universe. so. yeah.” Wick found themselves fidgeting with their claws, even as Nova relented, they still felt judged, “nyx never like. brought up why his wings look like that, so i never asked, you know?” Wick paused, “he’s not secretly actually mothman, right?”

That one got Nova laughing, “No. God, don’t let him hear you say that. I think he’d actually fly you out to the middle of the lake and dump you there instead of just threatening to.”

“but he’s a moth monster?” Close enough to mothman, in their book, especially visually. He had the black and red aesthetic going for him, which was the whole basis of them teasingly comparing him to the famous cryptid all these years.

“Yes, hon. He’d have to explain the specifics to you, but you’ve been friends with monsters for years.”

Wick squinted at her. That was plural, “monsters?”

Nova had a twinkle in her eye, although with her uniquely shaped pupils, she usually did anyway, “I’ll let you figure that out yourself.”

“oh you fucker.”

“If it took you this long to realize monsters were real in the first place, good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

“i hate you.” Wick grinned and punctuated the statement by throwing a foam organ at Nova, who ducked out of the way, laughing.

Patches was right. Their friends had known the entire time. That opened a whole new world of possibilities for them. What else was out there? How many monsters had they run into over the years that they rationalized away as just being weird or eccentric people?

They wanted to know.

They were going to find out. That much they were sure of.

#drabble #f2f

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

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Disco Ball Diva

A/N: For @buckyshelves Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy this and have a great festive holiday

To @bucky-smiles for organising this secret Santa gift exchange, you’re awesome and so, so kind

Also... thank you to my friend Haz who beta read this for me. You are always so supportive of my writing and I love you

Summary: You’re inappropriate, sassy, have snazzy powers, and now you’re an Avenger-in-training. Not everyone appreciates your blasé attitude, and when a surveillance mission goes south you’re thrown together with one hot brooding super soldier. It doesn’t help that you can’t stop ogling his bum.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader w/ powers

Word Count: 7k. I actually feel bad that it’s so long.

Warnings: Violence, gun violence, Bucky kills people, mentions of blood and injury, bad language (which is a given for me), some sexual tension (light) but mostly just reader is an asshat XD

The Avengers compound is not like you imagined it. Or maybe it is but you haven’t found any of the secret stuff yet. Hidden jet hangers under the basketball court, labs in the basement, glass cases full of superhero suits. Wait. That’s the freakin’ X-Men.

Still, it’s nothing like you hoped. The conference rooms are boring, obviously, because meetings are the epitome of dull. The communal lounge and kitchen are both boring; there’s no espresso machine that doubles as a drone, no fridge that transforms into sentry bot, there isn’t even a SodaStream. Yawn! You don’t even need to see the fitness suite to know that it’s not a place you want to visit, and you’re not allowed below the ground floor yet. Talk about not trusting the noob.

Your room is a vision of extreme lacklustre, but you only moved in yesterday, so, no redecorating just yet, save for the peace lily your brother gave you.

Congrats on your new job and home by the way, here’s a half-dead plant I had but couldn’t be bothered to look after. Now it’s yours. Enjoy!

Your super power is definitely not green thumbs, nurturing life, healing, or anything even a tiny bit supportive. You can’t fly, don’t have super strength, speed, or a crazy-good aim. There’s not a green rage-monster just below the surface waiting to erupt and smash things. Well, if someone steals your cookies you might have to choke a bitch but hey, rainbows are cool, right? Super distracting, like oh hey, what’s all this shiny shit flashing around? Oh dayum, I totally didn’t see that badass super warrior coming to kick my ass.

You swallow hard. The small conference room feels like an interrogation room despite the polished wood table and plush leather chairs. Of four sets of eyes that are currently watching you, only one pair is encouraging.

Tony Stark. The guy who recruited you. Took you from a life of selling hotdogs on street corners in the City and apartment sharing with a crazy cat lady called Angie who you found on Craigslist. You had nothing against crazy cat ladies, per se, but you would prefer it if the pissy smell was optional. Angie had opted in, hence why you jumped at the chance to opt out. Ugh.

“Rainbows?” The scowly but buff brunette with the dreamy blue eyes and robotic arm, scoffs mockingly. “You project rainbows?”

The equally buff blonde who you suspect might be Captain America (or maybe his stunt double) snickers, his head lowered to hide his amusement. Does Captain America have a stunt double, for like, TV appearances and meetings with officials, and stuff? You’ll ask later. Right now, you’re annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, fist-of-victory!” You snap your fingers like the queen you are. “Am I too snazzy for you? Do my rainbows ruin the whole Neanderthal vibe you got going on there?”

Loud snorts and chuckles pull you back. The redheaded vixen you know already as Black Widow is pinching her nose to stifle her laughter, and Tony is looking to the heavens in askance but emotional stability is not forthcoming.

“Wow.” The brunette says flatly.

“Fist of victory.” Tony ponders, eyes twinkling. “I like that.” He levels an amused gaze at you, rolling his next words around in his mouth. “Manchurian candidate is a little out-dated, wouldn’t you say, Barnes? Ready for an upgrade?”

Oh shit! Your eyes get big. The brunette is none other than the infamous Winter Soldier. You should have known by the arm. Show no weakness! Your brain screams.

“What’s the official title for that skill, you have?” Steve Rogers has gotten his face to cooperate, now there’s no trace of a smirk. “Light manipulation?”

“Walking disco ball.” You put on the light show again, manipulating the effects so the lights are dancing across the, now stormy grey, eyes of one Sergeant Barnes.

“It’s definitely distracting.” Natasha says objectively. “Could be useful.”

“See! That’s what I said!” You punch the air, sending the lights into a frenzy.

“I have a theory.” Tony is playing his cards close to his chest still. “That’s why y/n is here. She’s agreed to work with us, and at the very least she can be a supportive member of the team.”

“Team, frickin’, playahhh!” You holler, earning a concerned look from Rogers and a downright obnoxious groan from Barnes. “What? What you complaining at? You fucking love me already!”

The truth was that you didn’t know how your ability worked. You could feel it when you did your thang, like the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and the air in your hand felt stiff and substantial.

Better not talk about hands full of substantial stiff things around grandad Tony, he might kick the bucket.

You could manipulate the amount of reflections in your light show by making the air heavier, make them move, dance, even adjust the size of them a little. Agreeing to work with The Avengers had been a no brainer; you get paid, get a place to stay that isn’t full of the stench of sadness and cat piss, and you get to find out more about your ability. Win, win, win.

+++ A couple of weeks later +++

“You really expect me to take Rainbow Brite on this mission?” Barnes has his arms crossed across his chest, refusal crinkling his brown and pursing his lips into a thin line. The guy looks hot in tac gear. One bicep straining against the material, the other is obviously free and oh-so-fucking-awesome. Thighs tight under those black tac pants, thigh holster accenting the flex of muscle as he shifts his weight. Wait-what!?

“Wait a fucking minute!” You squawk. “Rainbow Brite? Oh, hell no!” You march up to him, similarly decked out in black gear that makes you look like some tiny recruit in ill-fitting body armour instead of badass like him.

There’s a smirk on his perfect mouth now, dusky pink lips lop-sided with amusement, and the twinkle in his eyes is more than a little alluring. What the fuck?

“Huh.” You stop your tirade, blinking, baffled. He’s playing with you. Trying to get you pissed so you’ll refuse to go, or maybe he wants you to go so you’ll make a fool of yourself and Tony will see you’re not useful. Too many mind-games already, you don’t have the patience for this shit, so you go with an insult instead. “If I’m Rainbow fucking Brite then that makes you Twink. Dink!”

“Well, he does epitomise my sparkling personality.” Sardonic, deadpan. It’s classic brooding Barnes and you’re almost proud that he got an 80’s pop culture reference. Almost.

“And they did rename him Mr fucking Glitters back in 2014.” You pout, adopting his stance, arms crossed.

“Perfect!” Tony pops m&ms into his mouth, turning away dismissively. “Rainbow Brite and Mr Glitters it is. Head to the carpool, there’s a vehicle waiting for you both.”

There was no getting away from this mission. You’d grumbled, griped, whined, and begged Tony to send you with anyone but Broody Barnes but the Iron Man was true to his alter ego, he did not budge.

You are about to take a few pot shots at him in the insults department when Barnes’s voice comes over the earpiece you have already been fitted with.

“Earth to disco ball. Get in the damn car already.”

“It’s disco diva to you, giant cocksicle.”

He laughs at that and is still grinning when you slide into the passenger seat beside him.

“You’ve got some mouth on you, kid.” Was that acceptance? Admiration? Whatever it was it looked good on him.

“Yeah, you know you want my mouth.” It sounded better in your head but now that it’s out it can’t be taken back. Barnes looks a little frowny but at least he’s got nothing to say so you can quietly die in peace.

Can someone cringe so much they die? You might find out.

The mission is surveillance. Low-key observations of a facility out in Nova Scotia that makes products for iGoddess, a beauty company owned and run by Gabrielle Porter, the niece of one Alexander Pearce, crime syndicate king-pin and scumbag extraordinaire.

You know the company; you buy their stuff. Well, you do now you can afford it and it’s not wasted under the scent of cat urine and bleach. How can a company so devoted to making women feel special and empowered be mixed up with drugs, weapons and human trafficking? Fucking bullshit, that’s what it is.

Bucky had ditched the car in the parking lot of a lake-side leisure and visitors centre about fifteen miles away, and with gaudy waterproof outerwear over your tac gear, you had begun the hike that would set you smack-bang in the middle of nowhere good. Posing as hikers had been Tony’s brief but you’re cold and bored, and your body aches from being on the solid ground.

You’re both lay just behind the crest of a hill a little way away from your target building. Bucky mutters his observations into his comms as you look through your own binoculars trying to see what he’s looking at. He’s talking guard numbers and movements, the weapons they carry, security features and people entering or leaving the facility. It’s no use, you’re not cut out for this. Surveillance is soul destroying. You’d rather be interred in Tony’s kitchen, at least there’s coffee there.

Not even an hour in and you’re itching to get up and move around. The hike had gotten your blood pumping but now you’re going stir-crazy, joints tingling with the need for motion.

Boring. Boring. But at least you can entertain yourself. Where there’s light there’s beauty and you tease the air through your gloves, finding that your skin doesn’t need to be bare for you to create the effect. Well whadd’ya know.

“There’s movement.” Bucky warns. “Looks like some of the guards are exiting the compound.”

You snort, they’re probably bored too.

“A Jeep and a couple of motorbikes, moving quickly.”

“Sounds like they’re going home.” You mumble, focused on the lights in your hand.

“They’re headed this way.” He curses. “Grab your- What the HELL are you doing?”

Bucky tackles you to the ground from where you were on your knees almost at the hill’s crest.

“Asshole!” You’re trying to get away from him but he pins you to the ground.

“I’m the asshole?” He complains as he rolls off you, sliding down the hill on his ass, shoving his gear unceremoniously into his backpack. “Mission compromised.”

“What happened?” Tony’s disembodied voice doesn’t sound happy.

“We were spotted.” At the bottom of the hill, Bucky starts picking a path through the rocks and small fissures hidden by the wild grass and heathers. A quick glance back tells him you’re not following; you’re caught.

“Uh, hi, guys.” You chuckle nervously as one of the guards levels an assault rifle at you. “Would you believe we’re winners of a free weekend iGoddess Spa?”

Bucky is livid. If it had just been him, he could have taken them out and escaped, but, no. Tony had to insist that he bring you, show you the ropes, look after you. Babysit you.

He snorts. You don’t need a minder you need to be put in a padded room where you can’t inflict any more of your weird bullshit on him. Fucking rainbows. What kind of skill is that, other than one that gets you caught?

Eight hours ago you were both doing great. There’d been some small-talk in the car, he’d opened up a little and you’d responded. Even on the hike over you’d been great, your filthy mouth was a source of much amusement for him, and you’d listened. His instructions were followed close enough to the letter, and he was happy. Everything was good.

Now it’s all fallen to shit and he’s locked up in a heavy-duty restraint chair that brings back memories of dark places and dark times for him. To his side, you’re slumped forward in a regular wooden chair, cable-ties binding your wrists and ankles to the wood, pulling at your skin, making your hands and feet turn blue. How the hell are you both supposed to get out of this?

He’s watching the movements of your chest that tell him you’re still breathing. The cut on your head has stopped bleeding but you’re drooling blood-tainted saliva down your grey rash-guard. Both of you had been stripped down to your undergarments and checked for hidden weapons. He was the first to be incapacitated as they’d used you as leverage, holding a gun to your head until he complied, stripped, and submitted to the chair. When they’d took away your gear you’d fought and Bucky had seen red; he’d strained against the chair until the butt of a gun to the head had put a stop to that. When he came to you were out cold, beaten and bloody. How hard had you fought?

Your feet and hands are turning purple now. The weight of your body pulling the restraints against your skin is making the plastic ties dig deep, cutting off the circulation.

“Y/n?” Bucky hisses, hoping the noise doesn’t prompt the guards to come back. “Y/n! Wake up!”

The room you’re in looks like an interview room. Two-way mirror, camera in the corner, reinforced door with heavy-duty locks that were strangely not engaged. It’s grey and cold, and the only things in the room are the two chairs and you two. The device Bucky is locked into is bolted into the floor; a permanent feature, like they expected him or maybe Steve. He tests the chair again. It creaks but doesn’t give. He’d have to really put some brute strength into it to break out, and that would create too much noise. He’d wait.

“Y/n!” A little louder now, and you stir.

He keeps talking to you, just bullshit words, what he wants for dinner, what film he’s going to watch when he’s home safe. Anything to help draw you back to consciousness.

“You wana watch a film with me, y/n?” He thought for sure you’d tell him to go fuck himself.

You moan, head lolling as you come back to him.

“Hey! Rainbow Brite!”

“Fuck you.” It’s a whisper but he’ll take it.

“There she is.” He allows himself a relieved smile. “C’mon, sweetheart. I need you to sit up for me. Take the weight off those ties before there’s any permanent damage.”

It takes a few more moments before you can shuffle yourself properly into the chair, then you’re flexing your hands and feet to get the blood moving again.

“Oh-god-it-hurts-so-fucking-bad!” You are practically wailing as the pins and needles sensation in your extremities reaches a peak. The slightest movement now sends a cacophony of intense pain into your limbs.

“It’ll be over soon.” Bucky sooths.

“Why are you being nice to me after I got us caught?” You eye him suspiciously, flapping your hands to rush the blood into your fingers. Rip the band aid off. “Is this some kind of prank? Ohhhhhhh! This is an initiation isn’t it? Oh, I see. Where’s Iron Doosh? Hey! Tony!”

“Would you shut up? This is real. We’re really captured.” Bucky hisses.

“Tony Stank, Skank, Spah-hank.” You sing-song as you struggle against your restraints, examining your bound feet through spread knees. “I hope this is one of the chairs from his good dining set.” You stand, leaning forward and centring your weight above your bent knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Just need to…” You shuffle over to the mirror.

“No, y/n, wait!” Bucky begs. “Don’t break the glass.” His frantic expression says the rest. Your feet are bare and you’ll shred yourself to ribbons.

“What? You’re crazy. Why would I do that?” You chuckle, amused that he’s so worried. “There’s no one in there.” You wink at him. “They’d be in here by now if there were.”

You shuffle a bit more and grunt as you throw yourself backward to the ground. The chair cracks but doesn’t break.

“Fuck!” You struggle some more, grunting and groaning like a butch female tennis player in a grand slam. One of the arms loosens and you fight against the wood until you get your left hand free, then you’re reaching into your hair for a bobby pin to jam into the clasp of the cable tie on your right arm.

Moments later, you’re free and rushing to Bucky who is fighting against his own restraints. There’s sweat beading on his bare chest and his hair is sticking to his forehead. A quick swipe of your hand clears his brow and he stills, watching you as you search the chair for whatever mechanism has him trapped.

“There’s a big red lever at the back.” You muse. “You think it’s an ejector seat?” A cheeky wink. “If I sit in your lap we can both go for a ride.” You don’t have time for giggling and flirtation, but you do it anyway.

“Y/n.” Bucky chastises lightly.

“What? This is every girl’s wet dream. Every, damn, girl.” You mumble as you grip the handle. “And I can’t even enjoy it.”

“Just pull the damn thing already. We don’t have time to mess around.”

“Pity.” You tug the lever and a loud hiss fills the room, pressure releasing from the chair.

Bucky is on his feet and at the door before you make three steps. He’s rubbing his right forearm where the metal clamps had bitten into his flesh, there’s blood there too, long ago dried.

“There’s movement out there.” He has his ear to the door. “I need a weapon, we need our gear, and we need a vehicle.”

“I need some chocolate and bottle of wine.”

“What?”

“Are we not making a shopping list?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs your wrist. “C’mon.”

With the door cracked open, Bucky can see movement at the end of the corridor; there’s a security room which is promising for retrieving your gear, but not if you want to avoid being seen.

“Stay behind me.” He pushes you towards his back.

You look down at his bum. “No problem.” You sigh and then you’re moving, your hand on his bare back so you can feel where he’s moving next.

Bucky suddenly shoves you down into a squat, shushing you with a finger held against his lips. The way he moves is like water, smooth and forceful, carrying the momentum of his body towards a lone guard who has paused at the corner by the security room. How he hasn’t seen you is a miracle but the man doesn’t even hear Bucky until the his own knife is slipped from its sheath and into the his temple. There’s no sound, no gurgling, not even much blood. Bucky lowers the body to the floor and cleans the knife on the pants of the dead man.

Looking at him now, you can see why people fear him. His expression is cold, calculating, and focused. It’s necessary, the distance he puts between himself and the act of killing. Even when Bucky was him, there was always a distance; a gap between him and his orders. Now the killing is his choice and he has to live with that, there’s no excuse of mind control now. This is all him.

The security room has one guard inside who is overpowered moments after Bucky opens the door.

Fucking amateurs, you think. Does that room not have cameras that cover the door and surrounding corridors?

Turns out that it does and the reason the guard hadn’t seen you was because he was sexting his girlfriend.

“Sexting?”

“Yeah. Like sex role play and talking dirty over text.” You snort. “Jeez, you’re old.”

“What can I say? You’re broadening my horizons.” He winks then and it’s so out of place in this grim situation that you laugh nervously. “Sounds fun.”

“Well don’t take tips from this guy.” You wave his phone in the air loosely. “He’s fucking terrible at it.”

“What’s bad about it?”

You’re not sure if he means to ask that, he’s busy trying to get outside communication through the phones which seem to be keycode protected and also checking through the security feeds to see if he can find your gear and a way out of this for you both; he’s clearly distracted. At least he’s happy now that he has a pair of handguns and a pair of knives, no weapons for you because you haven’t completed your firearms training yet. But let’s face it, who would arm you anyway? You were a disaster waiting to happen.

“He’s a bit of a wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am kinda guy.” You chuckle. Bucky is going to regret starting you off down this line of conversation. “His poor woman has probably never experienced even mediocre sex with this schmuck if his sext skills are anything to go by.”

“Too eager to bury the bone?” Bucky sounds distant, but he is listening to you as he checks drawers for weapons, keys and anything else that might be useful. God knows your gear was nowhere to be found.

“Check it.” You hop up on the desk near him and scroll through the laughable chat. You feel slightly guilty reading this guy’s private shit but he’s dead so he isn’t going to care. Reading from the chat, you do fake voices. “So she’s like ‘hey baby, you free tonight? I got something for you.’ Peach emoji, cat emoji. And he’s like ‘you off your period? Can we bang?’ I mean, what the fuck dude?”

Bucky is smirking when you look at him. “What did she say?” He straps both thigh holsters to his almost naked body. It’s comical how he’s gearing up from salvaged stuff wearing only a pair of skin-tight spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Once Bucky is packing (in more ways than one, now) you have to force your eyes elsewhere.

“’Yeah, baby! I missed you so bad. Can’t wait to be in your arms again.’ She just wants lovin’ y’know?” You spoke the line in a soft, breathy voice. Fake, of course.

“And what did he say?” Bucky is checking the monitors one last time before he moves to the door.

“You like a bit of sexting? Huh, Barnes?” You smirk, eying him mischievously. “Living vicariously through the sexting chronicles of Captain Dick-Down over there?”

“Just looking to know what not to do if the opportunity for sexting ever arises.” It’s light-hearted and completely unlike the grumpy Bucky you’re used to. Maybe there was something in the air; sex pollen or something. That’s totally a thing. “C’mon.” He says after a moment, eyes twinkling with mirth, soft lips pulling up to the side in a cute smile. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

It’s comedy gold, the pair of you running the halls of an apparently secret part of the factory, him in his tight little shorts and you in your panties and spandex t-shirt over a sports bra that makes your rack look like a uni-boob. You awkwardly tug your rash-guard down over your ass whenever Bucky is behind you and you’re thankful you didn’t wear a thong though that would be better than skid marks. God, you hoped you’d not shat yourself when they beat you.

You barely encounter anyone until you’re almost at the warehouse; Bucky is so stealthy that even with you hindering him, he only has to subdue one foreman and drag you into a cleaning supply closet once, to avoid a pair of patrolling guards. Not that you’re complaining, being squashed up against an almost naked super soldier gave you endless thrills, even if he was all stiff and awkward about it.

Bucky stalls before the double doors that lead to the warehouse. There’s a heavy plastic strip curtain over the exit too, it’s almost opaque with age and hinders your view of what is beyond the meshed safety-glass of the door’s small windows.

“They know we’re coming.” He whispers to you, mere inches away. “There’s a lot of them out there and I can’t keep you safe if you disobey orders. So, please,” he begs, “please do as I tell you.”

He begs so sweetly, you think, blushing. But you’re not one for passing an opportunity for inappropriate comments.

“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes, feigning innocent. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Really?” Bucky doesn’t know whether to blush or be annoyed. You never seem to take anything seriously; it’s always a joke, or something you can twist to your amusement. He gets doubly serious. “If you die, it’s on me. You think I haven’t lost enough people over the course of my very long life? You think I want to wash your blood off my skin later tonight? Bury you alongside all the other people lost to some fight or other in the name of SHIELD or the Avengers? I can’t save you if you don’t want to be saved.”

You watch him as he fervently tries to convey the dire nature of your situation, desperate to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to die here, he cares. His eyes are piercing and your heart is a ricocheting bullet in your chest. What if you don’t make it out ok? What if this is it for you? Both of you? Suddenly, you’re acutely aware that Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, Fist of HYDRA come Fist of Victory, has cleared himself a little spot in your fucked-up soul, and is there to stay. You don’t want him to get killed because of you, but there’s nothing you can do, you’re not trained for this, or at all really.

You nod once, not trusting your voice in that moment. You could choke on your words or you could vomit all over yourself. It’s a lottery, so you say nothing.

“Good girl.” He gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Stay behind me. Be quick, keep low, don’t hesitate, and for Christ’s sake no disco ball.” There’s a small smile tempting the corners of his lips, like he’s saying he forgives you for getting you both into this mess. “Ok, sweetheart, lets go.”

Out in the warehouse there’s a whole host of guards and workers, patrolling and overseeing shipments being loaded into lorries. It look like it’s important, and probably why the majority of the facility is clear of security staff; the merchandise is being moved.

It’s a mad dash, crouching low as you ghost around the edge of the warehouse. The huge rows of stacks are packed full of boxes and crates, further obscuring your movement around the area. Bucky is silent, especially since he’s barefoot; he’s every bit the assassin he’s hyped to be, but you can’t take him seriously padding around almost naked with the top of his crack showing and his junk all jiggly in the front.

A radio crackles to life. Three personel down. Prisoners have escaped. Cameras last caught them headed your way.

They must have found the bodies.

“They’re in here somewhere.” A man says, loud and authoritative. “Search the rows, shoot to kill. They’re not low-life mob goons, they’re Avengers and can’t be allowed to live.”

Well that settles that, you think, gone are the chances of mere bodily harm. It’s death or death.

You watch in awe as Bucky scales a nearby stack to stalk one of the patrolling guards. When his opportunity arises he yanks the man up by the throat, snapping his neck in the process. You can’t help but admire that metal arm, so sleek and powerful. You groan, light and lusty, earning you a concerned look from the owner of said appendage.

Killing that guard has yielded an assault rifle, another knife and another handgun. You’d think Bucky would be too smart to arm you but apparently he’s not. Silently he points to his eye and then to the gun where he shows you how to turn off the safety, puts the gun in your hand and moves behind you to adjust your grip. He aims for you, pressing his chest against your back and you swear you can feel his junk against your ass. Once he’s satisfied that you aren’t going to injure yourself, he’s gone from behind you, crouching low at the end of the row.

He grabs another guard and drags him backward. The struggle is louder than he would have liked, and the man got out a partial shout before his throat was closed forever but Bucky is hopeful that he can thin the numbers down enough to make it possible to get you into a truck and away safely.

Bucky shoves the newest body under the nearest stack and beckons you to him. You both move like a two-carriage train, he’s the engine and you’re the caboose following in his wake. He only leaves you to commit murder but you feel lost when he’s gone, cold even. There’s something alluring about the way he uses his body and your mind drifts to other carnal things.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. There’s more of a commotion going on in the warehouse now, not just the sounds of men moving goods and silently searching for two prisoners. There are massive amounts of footfall, boots hitting the concrete at speed; bringing in reinforcements from outside.

Bucky is about to whisper in your ear when the squeal of a megaphone pierces the air; he stills with his lips almost touching your skin before pulling back with a frown.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky knows that voice, he’d heard it for years, worked with it, even obeyed it on occasion. “Save the girl. Turn yourself in.”

You shake your head, panicked, urgent. Don’t leave me, your eyes are saying.

A noise nearby draws Bucky’s attention and he suddenly forces you to the ground under a stack where he slots himself immediately after; the security team are searching for you, stealthily stalking the rows. It’s cramped and dusty, the bottom shelf above you so close you can barely breathe without your back brushing the metal supports. How Bucky fits is beyond you, the man is a beefcake, all bulk and magnificently defined muscle. Thinking of him naked is the only thing that keeps you from succumbing to claustrophobia. Something brushes your hand and you jolt, eyes snapping to meet his. He grasps your hand properly and gives it a reassuring squeeze. In your chest, something gives. Maybe your permafrost heart is thawing, maybe you’re about to have a stroke, maybe you really like him.

When the coast is clear, Bucky pulls you free and you emerge into a different row, one with fewer boxes, one you’ll likely be spotted in. You can just see the massive doorway of the warehouse, double sliding doors like a hangar, several half loaded trucks and maybe forty men with body armour and guns. One guy in the middle is wearing a full-face helmet with a white skull etched across the features.

“Holy shit! Is that Punisher?” You hiss before Bucky can clamp his hand over your mouth, the warning look on his face is stern as he leans in to you.

“Crossbones.” He corrects you, barely audible despite the proximity. You still don’t know who that is but he’s totally not as cool as the Punisher, so it doesn’t matter.

His hand is still over your mouth but there’s no point in struggling, you couldn’t break free of him even if you tried, so you push your tongue out and squirm it against his palm, making him recoil in disgust. Your chuckle is silent and his frown turns to the ghost of a wry smile before his attention is fully back on the man he calls Crossbones.

Bucky is taciturn at the best of times but he’s in full diagnostic mode now, assessing the situation. His eyes flicker around the warehouse from yet another new position. It seems like he’s trying to get you closer to the trucks but you suspect that’s what Crossbones expects. There are more men closer to the trucks too and Bucky has already had to kill another two in the latest relocation. The missing men haven’t gone unnoticed and Crossbones is issuing orders, plugging the gaps so you can’t escape.

“I will find you Barnes.” Crossbone’s voice sounds wet through the megaphone, like he’s salivating with excitement at the prospect of getting his hands on you both again. “If you turn yourself in, maybe I’ll let the girl live.”

Bucky’s eyes are downcast, like he’s actually considering it, but the moment passes and Bucky’s resolve hardens. He drags you away towards the end of the row.

“The end of this row has a direct line of sight to the exit. I need a distraction. Can you do that for me?” He whispers.

You nod, lips set in determination. “One disco ball distraction coming right up.”

“On my mark.”

The fluorescent strip lights overhead create more than enough light for you to use. With your right hand flat against Bucky’s left shoulder blade and your left manipulating the air to create a huge show of dancing lights, you move in tandem. Bucky steps out of hiding, keeping you just behind him with his metal arm, he surges forward squeezing off four shots. The way his arm snaps to aim so quickly is astounding, like he has a targeting chip implanted in his brain. Who knows, maybe he does. Four men fall and remain still. Another three shots, then another two and he’s pulling you into another row at a crouching run to the opposite end as he discards the empty gun and pulls out another. He’s saving the assault rifle for Crossbones.

“Again.” He instructs gruffly. “Can you get their eyes?”

“It’s not an exact science this, you know?” You huff and he seems to know that you’re saying you’ll try your best. Of course you’d try, but you don’t know much about your power, even after the few months you’d been training with the team. If it meant you both got out of this alive, you’d flash your tits at the enemy for Christ’s sake.

You emerge again, him with the gun in his metal hand this time, stepping out with you at his back. This time they are ready for you and they start firing before Bucky gets off his first shots. He makes a dash for a fork-lift with a huge pallet of crates sat at floor level. He shoots his rounds in threes until the 9-round magazine is done. The gun is discarded as you both slide behind the cover of the pallets. Machine guns rattle, pummelling the crates with round after round. Bucky prays the crates don’t contain munitions.

“I make fourteen down. Twenty-two left.” His breathing smooth where your is ragged. You curse yourself for being so unfit that even a tiny bit of stress and exertion leaves you heaving air like a couch potato made to climb stairs. “Crossbones is a problem.”

“What do we do now?”

Bucky has two handguns, four knives and an assault rifle, you have one gun and your rainbows. This isn’t going to go well, you think.

“You’re going to hide over there and watch the rear.” He points to your left.

You smirk. Now isn’t’ the time for joking.

“I’m going to thin the crowd some more and, if I can, take Crossbones out.” He looks determined but ridiculous in his underpants, dusted with dirt and debris from the floor that’s stuck to the slightest bit of moisture on his skin. “This might not work. Run to the left, hide in the stacks again, stay down and don’t expose yourself.”

You nod and he readies himself to break cover. The shooting has stopped now and it sounds like the guards are changing positions again. His muscles clench, coiling ready to spring.

“Wait!” You stop him with a hand on his arm, the metal is unnervingly cool. Tension builds. “I wanna fuck you until you pass out.”

“Ummmm.” Bucky blinks, eyebrows raised in surprise but he’s smiling. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, well, no, but, uhhhh.” You splutter, this hadn’t gone well at all. “I couldn’t let you go without telling you, you know, what Captain Dick Down said to his girl. You asked, for future reference, and all.”

“Oh. Right.” He frowns, turning away again. “Move when I do.” He orders stiffly, preparing to move.

Well, shit!

“Bucky, wait.” Your voice is softer this time, tears prickling your eyes. There’s a chance that neither of you will make it through this and it’s suddenly hit you that there’s something missing.

“What now?” He grumbles, turning to find you closer than he expected.

You surge forward, cupping his jaw in your hands as you capture his lips in a kiss that’s both urgent and needy. You don’t care if he doesn’t respond, you need to feel this before it’s too late. All this tension between you, the jibes and snarky banter, it’s unresolved and sexual in nature. You want him, and if this is all you can have then so be it. One stolen moment before it all slips through your fingers, and you both go to your graves.

You’re already pulling back when he snaps back to attention, quickly pulling you back for another kiss. His tongue delicately touches between the seal of your lips and you sigh with longing.

“You ready?” You pull away but he’s still clearing his head, trying to focus again.

On your feet you’re running out, pumping your legs as fast as you can, heading to the wrong place. Machine guns stutter to life and Bucky is on your heels a second later, fear contorting his features as he scoops you up in his metal arm and returns fire almost blindly. He’s shielding your body with his own and yips like a wounded pup when the bullets find him.

On your knees beneath the curved shield of his back you see the enemy are far closer than you thought. Everything in you yelled stop and you felt the pressure rise through your body and out, cascading off you like a roiling storm.

The bullets stop but the guns are still firing, muffled by the thickness of the air. Despite the pain in his lower back and hip, he turns to see what’s happening. Bullets sluggishly pushing through the air like flies in syrup, all but stopped and slightly redirected on a path that will take them away from a central focal point that is you. You’re doing this, shielding you both as if by some miracle, your power not only refracting the light causing rainbows but acting like a forcefield.

“As much as I have to break up this little party, I really can’t have you killing my friends.” The voice of Tony Stark is heard a second before the Iron Man himself and several of his Iron Legion appear and shoot each and every remaining guard with a taser disc, stunning them into unconsciousness.

Crossbones is a different matter and is somehow resistant to the zapping he just got. He levels a grenade launcher at the stacks near where you and Bucky are crouched and fires. No air shield will save you from all of that falling metal, but Bucky is still fast despite his wounds. There’s blood running down his leg in rivulets as he pulls you to safety, and shields you instinctively with his body once more while the sound of explosions and grinding metal fill the air.

“I did not know I could do that.” You praise yourself.

“I still got shot.”

“It’s just a flesh wound.” You snort. “Walk it off.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”

“I must be something special if you took one in the ass for me.” You wink. “I hope it heals puckered, then you’ll have two rusty bullet holes.”

“STARK!” He shouts but pulls you closer to him. “Evac for one. She’s walking hom-owwww!” You pinch the skin on the inside of his thigh viciously enough that he shoves you out of his embrace.

You both stay close on the Quinjet home. Bucky had been confused as to how Stark had known to mount a rescue mission but when you produced Captain Dick Down’s phone from your uni-boob bra it all became apparent. All of the comms in the facility had been locked down but that was a personal device, one that probably wasn’t allowed to be carried. Good old Captain Dick Down.

The facility had been put to a far worse use than drugs and weapons trafficking. iGoddess was a front for human trafficking and also human experimentation. The restraint chair they had strapped Bucky into had been used to restrain test subjects; Alexander Pearce was trying to replicate the super serum that made Steve and Bucky what they were.

“So, this was a win for us.” Steve said in the debrief. “Our intel was lacking but it worked out in the end.”

“Says you who didn’t get shot in the ass cheek.” Bucky grumbled, shifting cautiously on the Mr Glitters cushion you’d given him as a joke.

“I got to see some wonderful scenery,” you grin brilliantly, “so I’m not complaining.”

There had been no further discussion about the kiss you and Bucky had shared when you thought you might die in that place, but that’s ok. Your daily thrills are made up of making him squirm, and since you two had become closer since your ordeal, you have had several of moments like those. There’s plenty of time and you’re prepared to play the long game, starting with your newest idea. You pull out your phone and casually write a text while Steve is rambling on about seized research and assets.

[I’m so turned on right now].

Bonus add-on for this work: Captain Dick Down - External link to AO3

Because apparently 7k words wasn’t enough and I just had to try my hand at a little text chat/social media piece. It’s more of an embellishment. Enjoy

And if you liked this story, why not try Good Ole Stuffing, a smutty follow on for the same reader/character.

#cmmsecretsanta #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #reader insert #reader with powers #marvel fanfic #powers au #my writing #cloudy's writing

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writingpaperghost · 4 years

Text

I Would Offer It Happy With a Smile On My Face (Chapter 14)

Chapter 14: They Will Remain If You Don’t Believe In Our Glow

No more secrets. Asahi’s fine with that.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860734/chapters/62767198

“Captain?” Fuyuko was fiddling with her communicator, “Come on… I know you should work…”

Then a crackle and Matsuoka’s voice came through, “Fuyuko? Are you, Jun, and Chikako alright? You should have been near where the Kaiju is attacking…”

“We’re… Alright,” Fuyuko responded, “But we’re trapped under some rubble, along with two civilians.”

There was a pause, before he responded, “Alright. With Jun there we’re down a pilot and the plane really needs both…” He was quiet, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You all sit tight while I’ll accompany Rin in the plane. Hopefully Grigio will appear and assist us. If you need to get in contact, I’ll have Katsuhito here keeping an eye on communications.”

Fuyuko glanced around, taking a deep breath before responding, “Got it.”

Jun sat herself on some rubble, looking out a gap in the rubble. The gap was large enough and angled right that they could see the Kaiju, but still too small for any of them to fit through. “Well, it couldn’t get any worse, at least.”

Chikako shoots her a glare, “Don’t say that,” She grumbled, “It’ll find a way if you do. We don’t need things to get worse.” She unwrapped the net from around her arms and began to fiddle with it.

“What are you doing?” Fuyuko asked, watching as Chikako pulled out various tools and parts from her tool belt.

“If we’re stuck here, I might as well get some work done.” Chikako responded, “And I’m sure Katsu won’t mind me trying to fix this net.”

“Do you even have the parts for that?” Asahi asked, though there was something unusual in her tone. She sounded awfully nervous, even for someone trapped in rubble during a monster attack. Even Fuyuko seemed to have noticed it and Fuyuko was the one who worked with people in these sort of situations the most, so if it was off, she’d be the one to notice it.

Chikako laughed, “Of course I do!” She waves around the screwdriver in her hand, “What kind of mechanic would I be if I didn’t?”

“A normal one?” Jun offered, with a cheeky smile. This was something they all could appreciate. Being able to relax even in a stressful situation.

Maybe that was something Asahi needed? Despite her cheerful exterior, something she was somehow managing to mostly maintain, even now, she seemed to become more and more stressed with each moment.

Soon they could see the plane with Rin and Matsuoka flying near the Kaiju. Yet this somehow only seemed to make Asahi even more stressed, instead of less like one might expect. There was one other thing… Where was Grigio? There was no sign of her anywhere. Normally she’d have appeared by now.

Then there was Hashimoto, who was watching the monster with a strange fascination. Of course, hadn’t they found that Kaijus were his hobby? It really shouldn’t have been all that much of a surprise; it was likely that he recognized the monster. He had even started muttering a bit.

“Hey, Hashimoto,” Fuyuko called, snapping him out of his mind, “You know much about that monster?”

He tilted his head before responding, “That’s a Gomora, they’re dinosaur like creatures, though they’re usually much more peaceful.” He closed his eyes and hummed before opening them and continuing, “Its special ability is Super Oscillating Wave, a very dangerous energy wave.

“You know,” Jun began dryly, “For someone who only likes Kaijus as a hobby, you certainly know a lot.”

He shrugged, “It’s just a hobby.” He looks out at where the KPaRS plane flies around Gomora, “It’s kind of funny, that Kaiju from earlier, Sodom, would fair rather well against Gomora. Against many Kaiju, really, given that it’s very hot and really, it doesn’t matter who you are, heat has a tendency to hurt.”

Jun blinks, “Ooooookay.” She comments, “Odd thing to say. But okay.”

Asahi was pacing now, walking at increasing speeds every time she crossed the area. Hashimoto looked at her worriedly, “Are you going to be alright Asahi?”

She spins on her heel to face him, a big smile plastered on her face. There was little attempt put into making it convincing, though. “What are you talking about Tomomi? I’m fine!” Then she went back to pacing.

Chikako peered out the hole and frowned, “Grigio’s still a no show,” She notes, “Isn’t she usually here by now?”

Fuyuko shrugged, “Usually.”

“Maybe she’s sick?” Jun joked, though it did little to conceal her own concern.

Fuyuko elbowed her, “Not funny,”

“Yeah, I know…” Jun sighed, not trying to keep her weak smile on her face.

Hashimoto glanced warily at Asahi, before responding, “I’m sure it’s fine.” He didn’t sound all that convinced though.

Then there was silence. All they could do was watch and hope Rin and Matsuoka could calm down Gomora without Grigio.

And more silence.

And more.

Silence.

…

“Oh to hell with it!” Asahi stomped, a frown plastered determinedly on her face. “There isn’t time for this!”

She pulled out a strange device, some sort of medal in her other hand. Hashimoto looked surprised, “…Asahi…?”

“I’m not just gonna sit around her and do nothing just because of some secret or other!” She places the medal in the device and called out, “Color me with your power! Grigio!”

Jun, Chikako, and Fuyuko watched in amazement as in a glow of light Asahi went through the small opening. Following the light, they saw as it became Grigio. Hashimoto just watched with mirth in his eyes.

“There she goes,” He said, “I was wondering how long she was going to wait.”

Jun spun and looked at him, “You knew she was Grigio?”

Hashimoto nods, crossing his arms, “For quite a while.”

Chikako looked at Fuyuko and cried, “Knew it!” Resulting in some interesting looks from Hashimoto and Jun. Chikako coughed into her hand and then said, “Uh, never mind.”

The four watched as Asahi, or rather Grigio began to fight Gomora.

---

Rin never really ceased to be amazed whenever Grigio appeared the way she did. Something about the glow of light she so often appeared in just made some part of Rin giddy. It wasn’t really something they could explain, even if they wanted to.

Rin had been worried Grigio wouldn’t appear, had even said so much to Matsuoka, but he laughed and said that if they needed her to, she would come and help. They didn’t really understand how he could have so much faith in someone he’d never met, but somehow, he did.

But then Grigio appeared, so now it didn’t seem like there was all that much to worry about. She summoned two Kaiju to fight Gomora alongside her. Nova and Sodom, then she summoned her bow and prepared to fight.

“I guess you were right Captain,” Rin idly noted as they steered the plane farther from Gomora. There was no reason to get to close, they didn’t want to get in Grigio or her Kaijus’ way. “Grigio did show up.”

“Of course she did,” He responded, “That’s apart of what she does. Or at least I believe it to be.”

Then their communications came through, from Fuyuko, Jun, and Chikako. “You guys will never believe what we just saw!” Came Chikako’s cry. She sounded a mix between amazed and excited, which was strange, given her current situation.

“And what did you see?” Matsuoka responded and while Rin couldn’t see his face, they were pretty sure he had something of a smile.

There was some background noise that they couldn’t quite make out, it sounded like someone else saying something, before Jun responded, “We saw Grigio transform. One of the two civilians – She’s Grigio.”

Rin couldn’t help but laugh at that. “What are the odds,” They said, “That the reason Grigio took so long was because of you three.”

“It’s not like we knew Grigio was some teenage girl!” Chikako sounded annoyed. There was more background noise, probably the other civilian in with them, before Chikako added, “Excuse me, a twenty something girl.”

Matsuoka hummed, “And what of the other civilian?”

It was Fuyuko who responded, “He’s fine. Knew the whole time, even. Now he’s just telling us all about Gomora. And Nova. And Sodom.” There was a sigh, “He just won’t stop. What kind of journalist know this much about Kaijus?”

“Journalist?”

There’s some rustling before a new voice comes over, “Hey Kaoru,” And wasn’t it strange that the man addressed the Captain so friendly, “Given Gomoras are usually peaceful Kaiju, do you also wonder what caused this one to freak out like this? Because I sure do.”

Again, Rin couldn’t see Matsuoka’s face, but they were pretty sure he was surprised. He sure sounded like he was, “…Tomomi…?” He seemed to need a moment to gather his thoughts, “You knew Grigio…?”

“Hm?” The other voice seemed to be thoughtful, “Well yes, but in my defense, you’ve already met her.”

That was… an odd thing to say. But it seemed that whoever Grigio was, she’d met the Captain at some point. Most likely with this friend of his. But it wasn’t like that mattered much right now.

Matsuoka sighed, “When you four are out, we’ll talk more.”

It sounded like Tomomi was smiling when he responded, “Yeah, I expected you’d say that. You’re in Captain Mode right now.” He laughed as he walked away from the communication device, but his last comment could be heard, “So serious.”

Then the two of them return their attention to Grigio who has now tied Gomora up, looking rather proud of herself. She turns towards the direction she came from, instead of taking off to the sky like she usually did. Instead she leaned down and with the help of her two Kaijus, began to move some rubble.

“What is she…?” Rin wondered, before Fuyuko’s voice came over to them again.

“Uh… The rubbles moving…?”

“It looks like Grigio and her Kaijus are moving the rubble?” Rin notes, “That might be what you’re seeing. She could be trying to get you four out.”

There’s a pause before she responds, “Yeah, that’s what Hashimoto thinks too.”

---

Asahi never realized how stressful meeting people could be until right now. After she’d freed the KPaRS members and Tomomi, she’d landed next to them. Now, they were heading the KPaRS base, because she’d kinda just revealed to much of team that she was Grigio. And now she was very stressed, but for different reasons than before.

Really though, what’s the worse that could happen? It’s not like they could really stop her from being Grigio, nor would they have any reason to. It was just oddly nerve wracking. She couldn’t really explain why. Before she knew it, they were there. When did they get there so fast. Next thing she knows they enter what she was pretty sure was their main room and Regina was in her arms.

The captain, Matsuoka, Tomomi’s friend who’d she’d met with him at the café that one time, tilted his head in confusion. “What’s that in your arms?”

She looks down, then realized he was talking about Regina. “Oh, this is Regina,” She responded, “My uh, Kaijus sometimes do this.”

A man, one of the engineers, Katsuhito she thinks his name is, leans in, “This is the one we can’t identify,”

He goes to poke Regina. “Wait don’t-“ Before Asahi can warm him otherwise, Katsuhito has poked Regina.

To Regina’s credit, there were many worse things she could do than what she did. All she did was bite his finger, rather gently it seemed. Still, Katsuhito pulled his hand back with a yelp, like he’d been burned.

“Regina’s not all that friendly…” She sheepishly finished.

“Anyway,” Matsuoka continued, “Asahi Minato, correct?”

“Yep,” She smiled, “That’s my name!”

“And you’re really Grigio?”

“Uh… Yes?”

The pilot with the scarf, Rin she thinks they recalled, raises an eyebrow. “You don’t sound to sure of that?”

“Er, well,” Asahi began, shaking her hands and Regina shifted from her arms to resting on her shoulders, “It’s just. Like. How do you respond to a question like that?”

“With a simple yes?” Rin offered, their arms still crossed.

“Well one would think!”

Matsuoka looked to Tomomi, “Do I even want to know how long you’ve known?”

Tomomi smiled, “Since the day Grigio first appeared.”

Matsuoka sighed, “And that’s why you wrote the article.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Because that was clearly why he wrote the article. Because he knew who Grigio was.

“I’ve got a question,” Fuyuko spoke up as Matsuoka seemed to be taking a moment to think. “Where did you come from? Why did you just suddenly show up one day?”

“Well,” Asahi began, “So I’m from another Earth, in another world. And I came here because I accidently fell through a portal that lead here. I can’t exactly go home now, and as an Ultra I ought to help people!”

Then Jun spoke, “And what about that Kenshin guy?”

Asahi shrugged, “He seems to want revenge. Not really because of anything my brothers or I did, but long story short we’re not the first ones to be Rosso, Blu, and Grigio.”

Matsuoka finally brought his next question, “You’ve mentioned your brothers before. By the sounds of it, they’re Ultras too?”

“Yeah!” Asahi beamed, “They’ve been Ultras longer than I have. My oldest brother, Katsumi, is Rosso, and my other brother, Isami, is Blu.”

“You really like your brothers, huh?” Fuyuko noted.

“Well, yeah.” Asahi gave her a look, “They’re my brothers. Why wouldn’t I?”

Katsuhito tilts his head, “You’re the youngest, right?”

“…Yes…?”

He walks over and pats her on the head, “I think you’re the exception, not the rule.” Then he walks back to where he had been.

Asahi blinks, “What does that mean?”

Matsuoka gives them all a smile, “I think that’s enough questions for now.” He approaches Asahi and Tomomi, “It would help us all, I believe, if we could work together from now on. Not just trying to communicate when a Kaiju is fighting.”

“Yeah,” She agrees, “Probably.”

“Then it’s settled,” He clasps his hands together, “From now on, KPaRS and Grigio will work together!”

“Sounds great!”

Jun leans over to Tomomi, “Is she always like this?”

“Happy?” Jun nods, “Yes, that’s just how Asahi is.”

#ultraman rb #ultrawoman grigio #asahi minato #my writing #i would offer it happy with a smile on my face #waiting at the end of the road is happiness

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onhirel · 5 years

Text

The Peace Found Within

My submission for Dianakko Week 2019 Day 1: Soulmates!

Part of my larger What a Decade Brings universe, and it can be found on AO3!

Magic was such a strange thing. There were rules to it, of course…after all, that was how magic spells were cast. But there was so much that wasn’t known, that would probably never be known. It seemed as though the more someone tried to control it, force it to do what they wanted, the more chance for chaos there was. Was that what had happened to her? Had she misused magic? Had she gone too far, bent it too far to her will in order to do what was necessary? Had her actions made it so that there was no rest, no peace for her?

Akko grimaced from where she knelt in the small temple somewhere up in the mountains of China. She was surrounded by meditating monks, and was trying to achieve the same inner peace that they were displaying, the inner peace that had eluded her since the Battle of Arcturus Forest, the inner peace she was so desperate for. It had been so very long since she had known true peace.

First step, center your breathing.

Her eyes drifted shut as her breathing slowed, and somewhere in the distance, a chanting prayer was called in a nasally voice, the Chinese foreign to Akko’s ears, and she focused on the rolling words for a moment before she slipped deeper, and-

Fire. Death. Ruin. Blood that wasn’t hers on the blade that had formed from the sleeve of her dress. Blood that was hers hot and wet against her torn flesh. The inability to breathe. Terror and hopelessness as she stared the embodiment of Death itself in the face. Diana. Sweet, brave Diana. Working in tandem to dispel that monster. And then, slipping away into oblivion, an oblivion she never expected to come back from.

Her eyes snapped open, and she swallowed heavily, mind racing as the floodgates opened, her memories flitting from one trauma to the next, crashing and smashing and spinning like billiard balls in her still damaged mind.

Ambushes and counter-ambushes against Silent Spring members.

Holding a junior witch’s hand as she bled to death in the aftermath of a particularly bad skirmish, the young woman’s wounds too great to heal in time.

The very first time she killed a person. A man, with dark hair that had silver touching the temples. One of the leaders of a Silent Spring cell. He had smelled of cologne and old books and fear and desperation, and she had killed him and watched impassively as his cold, cruel eyes went dim, a woman’s name on his lips as he exhaled one last time. It wasn’t until she got to the hotel she was using that she had come apart under the realization that she had killed someone.

Her breath was coming fast, far too fast, and the dark, candlelit interior of the temple was no longer comforting, it was claustrophobic, the incense infused air suffocating, pressing in against her senses, and she stumbled to her feet. She mumbled an apology as she jostled the monks seated nearest to her, though if you had asked her what language she had gasped the words out in, she wouldn’t have been able to say. No, she was far too focused on getting out, a cold sweat bathing her body as she managed to escape the dark chamber, fairly exploding out into the sunlit walkways of the mountain temple.

She gasped for breath for a moment. Then, almost angrily, she swept the heels of her palms against her eyes, dashing away the tears that had started to gather. How long had it been, and she was still reacting like this? Her head felt like it was full of static, bursting and popping and hissing, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on how the crisp mountain wind felt against her sweat drenched skin.

Thirteen months. That’s how long it had been since the battle. A half month from when she passed out to when she woke up, returned to Cavendish Manor, and then departed from Wedinburgh Airport. Five days after that to when she reached Sucy’s home, and then a week to when she began the long journey to try and quell the demons and black dogs that resided in her mind, keeping the peace she so desperately wanted out of her yearning grasp. The year since departing Sucy’s home had not gotten her that peace, not even the five months she had spent with her family in Japan.

It had been nice to see Okaa-san and Otou-san, as well as her grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and their children, but…but they had no idea. They could see that the prodigal daughter of the Kagari family was hurt, but they didn’t know how to help her…but they couldn’t be blamed for that. Akko didn’t know how to help herself! But she knew that the quiet whispers, the looks of ill-disguised pity, and the constant pandering would be the death of her. She had found herself distancing herself from her family as each day wore on, retreating to her room to use her crystal ball and phone to talk to her friends from around the world. That had helped some, though she didn’t miss how she spoke to Diana most of all, how she felt the calmest when she was speaking with her once rival, and there were times when the urge to get a plane ticket to fly all the way back to England was almost overpowering, but…

…she hadn’t been ready then, and still wasn’t ready even now. She couldn’t bear to face Diana, not while she was still so broken. Diana deserved happiness…they both deserved happiness, and they wouldn’t find it together, not with the way that Akko was right now. Akko knew that she couldn’t expect to be completely better before returning to England and fulfilling her promise to her…her friend. That was unrealistic. But she just knew, could feel it in her bones, that if she went back to Diana right now, it would only end in tragedy, just like how her visit with her family had.

She had snapped. She hadn’t meant to, she really didn’t, but the counseling services she had tried wasn’t doing anything and she was getting frustrated with how her family was treating her like spun glass. She had PTSD, she wasn’t broken! And always with those looks of pity, of condescension. Our Akko awakened magic, but she can’t get over a battle. Well, fuck you, Aunt Hisako, maybe if you had been there, you’d understand instead of talking about shit you know nothing about!

She was turning into a powder keg, and only needed a spark to be set off, a spark which was provided by one of her cousins, who muttered that perhaps it would have been better if she was normal, if she wasn’t a witch, if she had never left for Luna Nova in the first place, if magic hadn’t ever existed in her first place.

She had screamed at him, words slurring as a cruel reminder of the brain injury she had suffered, but she hadn’t been able to stop, hadn’t been able to hold back. Magic was everything to her. She had worked so hard to be where she was, and if it wasn’t for her, then perhaps Silent Spring would have won, and Earth would have died! The tirade lasted far longer than she had expected, and in the stunned silence that followed, she was aware of just how everyone was staring at her, staring at Akko the Witch, Akko the Freak. Then one of the babies (the daughter of her cousin Hiro? She couldn’t remember…) started crying, and she whirled, retreating to the small room her parents had given her. It didn’t take long for her to pack.

But what really hurt? Her parents didn’t even try to fight when she told them she was leaving. They just accepted it, offering only token words of sad dismay. They didn’t demand that she stay, they didn’t try to keep her home. They knew what she knew: that she didn’t belong. She had seen too much, been through too much. She no longer fit in the mundane world of her family.

“Will you come and visit?” her father had asked, deep voice sad and soft, and she had hesitated at the doorway, backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Hai,” she finally muttered. “After I…yes. I will visit.”

They had hugged one last time, then, the three of them crying, but no more words were said, and she began the next leg of her journey.

Akko’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared out over the lush, green mountains spread before her. The bitter irony of it all was that she hadn’t used the magic she had so vehemently defended once since the end of the battle. Her wand had stayed in her backpack throughout it all. Perhaps that was part of the problem. She felt unmoored, separated from both the mundane and magical worlds. Even when magic would have made things easier, she hadn’t been able to make herself use magic.

After she had left Japan and started travelling through Southeast Asia, she had thought a lot about why she was so hesitant to use the magic that she once loved. While helping plant rice on a small family farm in Vietnam, when she walked her way across Cambodia, as she visited the open air markets in Thailand, and then while she trekked north through Laos into China, she thought about it. She knew it was tied to her trauma, the PTSD that robbed her of any peace, and it was that odd, pervasive sense of looking for something that she was missing that dragged at her feet. She had to find what she was looking for before she returned to Diana or freely used magic again…she had to! So she hadn’t ridden in any car, nor used a bicycle, nor flown in any plane, worried as she was about missing the thing that she was looking for if she went too fast…the only vehicles she ever used were boats when she travelled over open water. But no matter how many miles she trudged, no matter how many people she met and helped, the answer still alluded her.

And now here she was, standing on the walkways of the mountain temple high up in the Chinese mountains, hoping that the holiness of this place would help her find what she was looking for. But here seemed as empty of answers, the same as everywhere else she had been so far. At least the view was nice, with the clouds and mists rolling heavily off the green mountains…

“You seem troubled, my child.”

The voice speaking heavily accented English was startlingly close, for Akko hadn’t heard anyone approach, and she whirled, heart pounding as her body immediately prepared to strike ruthlessly. But it wasn’t a Silent Spring assassin who stood before her, but one of the monks, an old man with skin as brown and wrinkled as a walnut, and he regarded her with calm, kind eyes. Still, she berated herself for letting him get so close without her noticing. Even lost in thought, she should have been paying enough attention to her surroundings to notice anyone approaching…Silent Spring did still exist, even if the majority of them had been destroyed. Those remnants that still existed might very well be wanting revenge. She’d have to pay more attention from now on…as for this man and his statement.

“I am, sir,” she replied honestly, and he nodded in understanding as he strode up to the wall of the walkway, joining her in looking out over the mountains before them.

“This is good. Noting there is a problem is the first step of overcoming it,” he said, before shooting a glance out of the corner of his eye at her. Returning his gaze to the mountains, he spoke his next words softly. “You remind me of a man I once knew.”

She didn’t say anything, but then, she didn’t have to.

“He, too, came here, only long ago, when I was a very young monk. He was a proud man, but troubled, very troubled. You see, he had served in what the Americans call the Korean War. His unit fought many times against the Americans and the South Koreans, and suffered terrible casualties. He was wounded towards the end, and was brought back home, but could find no peace. He never took a wife, never had any children, for the war and what he had seen weighed too heavily upon his mind. Every night, it seemed as though he returned to the war. Every night, he found no peace.”

PTSD, her mind supplied. He was suffering from PTSD, but it didn’t sound like he got any help for it. “What happened to him?”

The monk smiled softly to himself, the expression melancholy. “He told us how he spent years in the wilderness, unable to be near his fellow man, how he was searching for something he could never find. He finally found himself here. It took him many years and support, but he looked deep within himself and found the peace he had so desperately sought without. He eventually became a monk, and was one of the kindest, most tranquil men that I have ever known.”

Akko scoffed, turning a wry smile on the monk. “So I should wander for years in the wilderness before joining a monastery? Is that how I find peace?”

He chuckled. “That hardly seems fitting of the famed Atsuko Kagari.” At her shocked look, he grinned wider. “We are not so removed from the world that we would not recognize someone like you, my child. You have done great deeds already, and I imagine that great deeds still lie ahead of you, and they would not be accomplished if you holed yourself up in a monastery. No, I believe that what you must do is look within yourself. You are not at peace not because of something in the world around you, but instead because of something within you.” His expression turned grave. “That said, my child…there is no easy solution, there is no one thing that will bring you completely to peace. But knowing what lies within your own heart is an important step on your journey, I feel.”

They spoke for only a few moments after that before he took his leave, leaving Akko with a great deal to think about. Take a look at her heart, he had said. Funnily enough, that was more of a literal reality for witches than it was for the mundanes, but it would require the use of magic. Setting her mouth in a determined line, she made her way up to the small room the monks were letting her use. Barely larger than a closet and only just containing the cot and an old set of drawers, it was still sufficient for her needs. She paused on the threshold before stepping in to the room, grabbing her backpack and opening it, hand hesitating for a moment before she grasped her wand for the first time in many months.

The ease at which the wand’s worn handle fit into the palm of her hand, how right it felt to wrap her fingers around the wand that had seen her through thick and thin filled her with a deep sense of sadness. It wasn’t the wand’s fault that she was the way she was. The wand had done nothing wrong, but even now, with how right it felt to hold it again, she felt like ants were crawling all over her body, fear and anxiety prickling over her.

What if she couldn’t cast magic because of how hard it was for her to speak sometimes? What if magic wouldn’t come for her because of the necessary but terrible things she had done with it? What if it could sense her resentment and bitterness at how the one thing that had once brought her so much joy had brought her nothing but pain, heartache, and agony for most of her adult life?

She frowned. No! She was Akko Kagari! She reawakened magic with the help of one of the most powerful witches of their age when they were only sixteen! She would not shy away from this!

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she took a deep breath to center herself. It was a long, complex incantation for the spell that she was going to cast, something she learned during her last year at Luna Nova. She had struggled with it then, only able to take brief glances within to her own magical signature, but she had matured since then, gotten better control of her magic. If the monk said that she needed to look within, then look within she would!

The words she needed came slowly, spoken with the utmost care, and she could feel the power growing with each uttered syllable. Shaky, yes, but stable enough for what she was trying to do. Her eyes squeezed shut as she finished the last word and released the built up magic, and it was as though she was struck by an ocean wave…massive, indomitable, a force of nature hard to fight. So she didn’t, allowing it to wash over her, and when she opened her eyes again, they no longer saw her room.

No, the view that greeted her was breathtaking, a studded starscape as far as the eye could see, design whirling and flashing, mesmerizing and almost hypnotic. She remembered some of the older witches saying that this spell had been disheartening to cast before the Grand Triskelion had been activated, that the world had seemed a void save for a brief few brilliant but fading glimmers, Sorcerer’s Stones providing magical energy. Now, the entire world was ablaze with magic, beautiful and powerful, sublime in its energy.

But she wasn’t here to look without, she was here to look within.

She turned her gaze towards herself, wincing slightly at the slight disconnect of her consciousness as, for lack of a better description, she looked at herself from a third person point of view. What she saw was…well, pretty much what she expected. It was hard to describe, this crimson, flowering gem with countless petals and facets that was her magical signature. It wasn’t just sight that she perceived, but also feelings…stubborn and headstrong, playful and humorous, but also worn and tired, frightened and wary. Sharp as obsidian in places, but also fragile as spun glass. This was a magical signature…nay, a soul that had been through a great deal.

But then she blinked as her eyes adjusted and she began to perceive more. Her soul wasn’t alone, there were branches that led off into the darkness, almost imperceptible when looked at directly but noticeable from the peripheral, like a dim and distant light in the darkness. So many of them, too, all connecting her to others, but ten were stronger than all the others. Curious, she reached out a hand that wasn’t actually there, and rested her ephemeral fingertips just above a cluster of three strands that ran close together, and she gasped.

A lime green cord that felt stubborn, playful, and strong, a hazel that shared that strength but also had a sharp wit, and a teal that was gentler than the other two, more caring and supportive but not without its own strength. Amanda, Hannah, and Barbara. Fitting, then, that their signatures seemed so intertwined! It didn’t take her very long to identify the rest of the signatures…Lotte and a much dimmer signature that she suspected was Frank’s…Chariot and Croix…Jasminka, as well as Constanze, even Sucy was still there, though hers was not vibrant with life as the others were. But still it remained, and she couldn’t help but remember the one dream she had while at Sucy’s mother’s house and their final farewell. Sucy may be dead, but she wasn’t gone, not truly…and perhaps she wouldn’t really be gone, so long as there were those that remembered her. A bittersweet thought, and a sharp pang of longing ran through Akko. She missed her friend, dearly.

But for all that sadness, she did feel a bit better, having done this. The spell was a stark and definite reminder that for all its chaos, magic joined people together. She was not alone, and never would be. Though the cords of magical energy that connected her with her friends were the strongest, there was no denying that she was connected with countless others, and had she the time, she would have taken care to actually investigate each one. But no, she had to return to the real world. But even as she began to withdraw from the spell, she couldn’t help but look around for the one cord that should have been brightest of all. Where was Diana’s signature?

She barely caught it out of the corner of her eye, but for the briefest of moments, a pale gold streaked with tea green and a light, clear blue flickered across one of the petals of her own signature, and she paused, confused. It seemed to have come from within her essence, and not from a cord connecting her with Diana. Curious now, she gathered her will and dove deeper within her signature, piercing through the outer layers and diving deep, ignoring the brilliant flashes of feelings and the brief flickers of memories tied to her long years of training and schooling to get to where she was.

Deeper and deeper she went, following the flash of gold that grew stronger and stronger the closer she got to the core of her essence, the beating heart of who she was, and when she got there, she gave a soundless gasp into the brilliantly colored void.

It wasn’t a cord connecting her to Diana. No, instead there was a thick strand of the warmly glowing gold signature that was interwoven with the very center of her magical signature, of her very soul. She raised cautious fingers, but where she hadn’t actually touched any other magical signature, she couldn’t help but touch the strand of gold and green and blue that was very much a part of her signature now. A small part, to be sure, but it was still there, still part of her!

Her fingers brushed the surface, and she immediately felt an indescribable flood of warmth, of acceptance, of serenity, of friendship and something more, something that should scare her but didn’t, and after a brief moment, there was a pulse of curiosity from the gold strand as the one that it originally belonged to answered her touch.

Oh. Oh, this was too much! This wasn’t just a minor connection, this was something more, and for a moment she floundered, confused and worried at what it all meant as a word that meant so much with its depth floated to the fore: soulmates.

Diana’s soul was inextricably connected with hers.

The shock of it all broke the spell and with a rush the real world returned to her senses, and she was suddenly aware of the tears coursing down her cheeks. It had been so beautiful but so very powerful, like a typhoon in the distance. She gasped for breath as her body reacted to it all, shuddering with what she had seen.

She would always be a part of Diana, and Diana would always be a part of her. Not just connected, but well and truly a part of each other.

Her crystal ball chimed from within her backpack, and she froze. But no, if that was who she thought it was, avoiding her wouldn’t accomplish anything. Gritting her teeth as she steeled herself, she retrieved her ball and activated it.

Diana’s face greeted her, sleepy and slightly confused as she politely hid a yawn behind her hand. “Akko?” she murmured in a throaty voice once the yawn ended. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…you could tell that was me? How?”

Diana blinked at that, obviously taking the time to think it over. “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “I just did.” Then she frowned, more confused than annoyed or angry. “What was that?”

And so Akko explained it all to Diana who was several time zones away…it must have been very early in the morning for her. Diana didn’t say anything while Akko was talking, and once Akko was done, she still remained silent, face thoughtful. Finally she nodded slightly.

“The Grand Triskelion.”

“Huh?”

“Akko, we awakened magic together…it’s not surprising that our souls are intertwined like that. We were at the epicenter of an event where magic united the world, where everyone with a believing heart supported us in stopping the missile.”

Her tone was calm and factual, and Akko couldn’t stop the question from spilling from her lips. “Being connected like this doesn’t bother you?”

Diana’s head tilted to the side. “Why would it? Akko, you are my dearest friend. You always will be.” A blush touched her cheeks. “Whether as the closest and dearest of friends or…or as something more, I can think of no one I’d rather be so connected to. After all, I don’t lightly make promises to wait for someone to just anyone.” Her face grew concerned, a definite hint of yearning in the lines of her expression. “Akko, I know that I can’t force you to come home any sooner than you are ready to, but it’s been so long already. When are you coming home?”

Going home. Going home to Diana. Going to the one place that she really considered home anymore. The idea no longer seemed as daunting as it was before, but still…

“I don’t know,” Akko admitted. “I’m…I’m still not quite ready.” Diana’s face fell, and Akko’s heart lurched in her chest at the expression. “But…” she started, smiling timidly as Diana looked back up, hope in her blue eyes. “But I think I took a very important step today.”

The truth, she realized with a flash. Her heart and soul still ached, and likely would for a very long time yet. But she wasn’t as alone as she had thought she was, even when she was half the world away from her friends. She was still connected to them, like they were connected to her, and Diana…Diana was a part of her, and now that the shock of that realization had worn off, she took immense comfort in the fact. No matter what, Diana would be with her.

Diana’s smile was soft, but filled with her belief in Akko despite that softness. “I’ll be waiting,” she said, tone unwavering, resolute.

“And I will return to you,” Akko replied, voice just as firm as Diana’s had been. She couldn’t say when, but she would return to Diana. No power in the world could prevent that from happening!

Their conversation ended shortly after that, Diana regretfully informing her that she had to start getting ready for the day, and soon Akko was staring at the blank crystal ball resting on the bed as she processed all that had just happened.

She was connected with her friends, and a small part of Diana’s soul was intertwined with hers, and a small portion of her own soul was undoubtedly a part of Diana’s soul, as well. They would always be connected.

Akko fell back on the bed, smiling at the thought of it. No matter what traumas she endured, no matter what terrors visited in the night, Diana would always be there for her, a silent source of support and strength, a beacon in the dark.

They had been through unbelievable challenges together, had reawakened magic side-by-side, had even stared Death in the face before dispelling its corporeal form. Akko knew that the demons that still hounded her were not gone, and might very possibly never be gone. But they no longer seemed insurmountable like they had before. After all, with Diana’s help?

With Diana’s help, she could do anything.

That night would be the first peaceful night of sleep that Akko had in a very long time. The ghosts and demons still howled in the distance of her dreamscape, but Akko took courage from a steady golden glow that she had only needed to find in order to draw on its strength. Diana’s soul kept her safe through the night, and would do so from then on. In the morning, Akko would thank the monks for their hospitality before leaving the monastery. It would still take her five more months to complete the journey to the patiently waiting Diana, but now the journey had focus, was no longer a hopeless meandering as she looked for serenity. She still helped those she came across, still walked rather than ride in train or car or plane, but now she was motivated more by a curiosity of the world around her and those that lived in it rather than by a sharp, aching desire for peace of mind.

After all, the monk had been right, though she suspected not quite in the way that he expected: serenity was found within her own heart, but it was not her heart that provided her with that serenity, but the heart of her one and only, her soulmate, the one who waited for her:

Diana Cavendish.

#dianakko week 2019 #dianakkoweek #@dianakko-week #what a decade brings #a decade's drabbles #diakko #akko kagari #diana cavendish #mention of all her friends #as well as of hanbarmanda

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rpmtrish · 2 months

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RPM Magazine Releases the March 2024 Issue

Check out the RPM Magazine March Issue 2024 – the 3rd issue of RPM Magazine’s 25th Anniversary Year! Still bringing you the Cars, the Stars, and the Tech Info you have come to expect from the world’s best and only family-owned publication that has supported the industry for 25 years. We thank all of our readers, advertisers, staff, and supporters throughout all the years. Click on the image of the cover to the left to see the FULL COPY. Subscribe at www.rpmmag.com FEATURE CAR WILD HORSE - From Street Cruiser to 6-second hitter! Adam Bastarache bought his 2001 Ford Mustang simply because it was his favourite year of the iconic muscle car. That, and because it had a monster turbo on it and went like a bat outta hell…or at least it felt like it did at the time. One thing is for sure, compared to other Mustangs on the road, it was definitely a handful. NASTY NITROUS NOVA! - This no-time heavy hitter is packed with 598 inches of big Chevy Power, and lots of nitrous! In case you have been hiding under a rock the last few years, it seems that most every car everywhere is boosted. Well, we at RPM still love nitrous and so do guys like Jim Penner. Bang for the buck, it’s hard to beat... THE TOTAL PACKAGE - Lenny Farinacci has the car, the power and the team to win! When Lenny Farinacci purchased his first car at the age of 16, a 1966 Chevelle, he had no idea that he would eventually own this slick carbon-bodied Corvette. This Pro Mod level Corvette is show stopping as well as being a capable performer on the dragstrip! The body is a full carbon fiber piece, AFTERTHOUGHT - This AMC Rambler has definitely gone Rogue! Peter Ricchio's 1966 AMC Rambler Rogue fits the bill on both counts. During that mid to late sixties era, Ford and Chevy had two-door coupes and AMC threw their hat in the ring with the third generation 1966-69 Rambler... RPM HIDDEN GEM STREET OUTLAW - 1950 Chevy 5-Window Pickup from the pages of RPM Magazine, May 2017 If you thought this wild 1950 Chevy 5-window pickup might attract the attention of the local law enforcement, you’d be right! Read the full article

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haveamagicalday · 4 years

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My 2019 reads

My top ten reads can be found here

4 Stars

All the Bad Apples by Moria Fowley-Doyle

Deena’s family is cursed. Any “rotten apple” in the family is doomed for a a tragic end. When Deena’s sister Mandy goes in search of the cause of the curse, Deena and friends go after her. This book alternates with stories from the past and present dealing with strong feminist themes throughout.

House of Salt and Sorrow by Eria A. Craig

A darker more horror story retelling of the 12 Dancing Princesses. Personally, I felt that connection to the original fairy tale was kinda weak and this could have been pitched as its own fairy tale. It was definitely creepy and kept you on your toes throughout.

Lock Every Door by Riley Sager

Riley Sager is becoming one of my favorite thriller authors but this one was probably my least favorite of his 3 books so far. Don’t get me wrong, it was still really good but while the twist was good, I figured it out fairly early on. I kept waiting for another twist that would blow me away but it never happened. Still, this was fun to read and I still stand by the 4 star rating.

Stepsister by Jennifer Donnelly

After Cinderella leaves with her prince, her stepsisters are left in shame. This story covers the stepsisters lives after happily ever after, and maybe they will get their happily ever after too. This book was sweet and creative. Isabelle, are evil stepsister, was a flawed character but still deeply likable. There was some magic and greek mythology woven in that really made this story stand out for me.

The Rest of the Story by Sarah Dessen

Sarah Dessen does it again in this heartfelt tale of a teenager trying to find her place in the world. Emma Saylor’s mother was an addict and now that she’s gone, Emma only has her stories to remember her by. So where does Emma’s life fit in to these stories and how does the story end?

Magic for Liars by Sarah Gailey

A non witch detective is called in to a high school for the magically gifted to solve a gruesome murder. This was a fun and unique read. It plays out like a typical mystery but the added element of a modern day world with mages and a magic boarding school made it it's own thing. I would actually love to read a series in this world as it was well built and intriguing. A big strength of this novel was I actually was interested in the main character's storyline as I was with the mystery. Sometimes with mysteries, the main character is just there to solve the mystery and nothing more. This was not the case for this book.

The Window by Amelia Brunskill

Jess’s twin sister is dead. She fell out their window one tragic night. But what was Anna doing sneaking out of their window? In this thrilling and emotional book, Jess discovers some of her twin’s secrets and sets out to learn what really happened that fateful night.

The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm by Christopher Paolini

A fun short read that brought me back to my middle school years. Eragon holds a special place in my heart and this was a welcome return to the world. It hints at more in the future and I'm excited to see were this story will continue to go. I will admit though that I preferred the in between chapters with Eragon than the short stories themselves. The Urgal story was probably the best but it seems like Paolini is setting up for another full sized novel in the series and it really had nothing to do with the story at all. Still, it was enjoyable!

The Dark Days Deceit by Alison Goodman

A satisfying ending to the Lady Helen trilogy. There was a twist about the main villain that I honestly would have hated in any other book but it worked so well in this one. I’m going to miss this fun series.

3.5 Stars

Echo North by Joanna Ruth Meyer

Echo North is a retelling of East of the Sun and West of the Moon. This one had its deviations but was more of straight retelling of the fairytale. There are two parts to this book. The first one is about 280 pages and the last part is the last 120 pages. I think I would have preferred if they were an equal length. The first part could have been shorter and the second part could have been longer. There was a lot of interesting content in the second part that I would have loved to explore more. Still, this was a lovely read and a good retelling of the popular fairytale

Here There Are Monsters by Amelinda Berube

Skye is our main character. A high school girl that moved to a new town and just wants to be normal, maybe even date her cute neighbor? What stands in her way is her 13 year old sister Dierdre. Deirdre is weird, she’s creepy and she refuses to grow up. And now she is missing. All in all, I thought this was a worthwhile and exciting read. While I was personally left a tad disappointed in the direction it took, I know there are a lot of others that will absolutely love it. And the strength of the first half and the themes it deals with, is enough for me to recommend it! Read my full review here.

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

Based on Russian mythology and lore. This is a perfect fairy tale to read on a cold winter night. The characters are well developed and the conflict is subtle. It's a slow build up but never felt boring at all.

Two Can Keep a Secret by Karen M. McManus

For the most part, I really enjoyed this book! It was quick paced and kept you guessing. However, while I didn't think the ending was predictable, I did think it was a bit cliched. I was surprised by the twist but but it still felt cheesy. The rest of the book was really solid though. There were plenty of red herrings that kept you guessing and it was an enjoyable read with good characters. I liked that this one only had two main characters as opposed to One of Us Is Lying had the four but if I had to pick one though I would say One of Us Is Lying is the stronger book.

3 Stars

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale

A retelling of the fairytale of the same name. It was such a sweet story! I thought that Ani/Isi's transformation and growth throughout the story was very well done. The romance was put on the back burner but I didn't mind. It was cute but a little rushed too. It was also very obvious who Geric really was but I don't think it was suppose to be this amazing twist or anything so I didn't mind. I liked the added elements that Hale put into the fairytale. Ani's wind talking ability was a great addition whereas in the fairy tale, she just talks to the wind and it’s never explained why. It stuck to the fairy tale very closely and I really enjoyed reading it.

Imaginary Girls by Nova Ren Suma

Chloe lives with her older sister Ruby, the girl everybody wants to be. But when a night of fun with Ruby goes wrong, Chloe is taken to live with her father, leaving Ruby behind. But Ruby will do anything to get her sister back and make things right for her. This was a strange book. I read it quickly because I wanted to know what was going on but the ending just left me more confused. I don't understand what the point of any of this was? However, the writing was beautiful and I loved the creepy and hazy atmosphere.

Teeth in the Mist by Dawn Kurtagich

This was pitched as a Faust retelling but I found little connection between it? I loved the Dead House by Kurtagich but her next book was a disappointment for me. While this one was better, I was still left wanting more. It’s strange that the story in the past is the main one, whereas the one in the present is done through transcribed video recordings and journal entries. Honestly, she probably could have done away with the story set in the present. I think many would like this book but it just wasn’t for me.

Twice Dead by Caitlin Seal

Naya lives in a world where necromancy is common, but the wraiths they come back are treated as second class citizens. When a solo trading mission goes wrong, Naya awakens to find herself the very thing she always found disgust in. Wholly creative with lots of twists, this was a strong debut novel.

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

I read Bardugo’s series of short stories A Language of Thorns last year and absolutely loved it. I was...surprised this was written by the same person. It was a very basic YA novel with a love triangle and super special main character. I think I would have enjoyed this a lot more if I had read it as a younger teen.

Truly Devious/The Vanishing Stair by Maureen Johnson

I went into this book expecting a lot of murder and creepy riddles left behind. That's not exactly what I got though. This book was just a tad bit too slowly paced. The murder doesn't happen until a little after the half way mark so the first half of the book felt unnecessary. I feel like 100 pages or so could have been chopped. What I really liked was the mystery behind the school that happened in the 1930s. For me that was the strongest part and I'm more interested in that than the modern day mystery. Which was sort of solved by the end anyway? I think there's more to it but if not it's rather underwhelming. Overall though, I enjoyed the book and the sequel was enjoyable too. Oh, and I need to set the record straight, there's a line in the sequel where someone mentions that the country bear jamboree doesn't have a movie based on it... but it does!!!

Hidden Pieces by Paula Stokes

Embry is the town hero for saving a homeless guy from a fire at an abandoned hotel late one night. But what would the town think if they knew she was the one who started the fire in the first place? Now Embry is receiving notes from someone who knows what she did. Now she must choose between letting the truth get out or given in to her mysterious tormentor’s demands. Hidden Pieces was a fairly solid mystery but it bordered on unrealistic at most times. Still, it was definitely a page turner.

Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy

This is one of those rare cases where I found that the movie was better than the book. Don’t get me wrong, it was still a good book but the movie fine tuned it a lot. The book was surprisingly long and the movie cut out some unnecessary stuff. I was surprised that there was two love interests in the book and I honestly preferred the one that was cut from the film. He was a much better fit for Willowdean and Bo in the book was much more of a jerk who was initially put off by being seen with Willowdean. The fight that Willowdean and her best friend have was much bigger and more dramatic and Ellen was actually pretty nasty throughout it. The movie definitely fleshed out these characters in a much softer light. The relationship with her mother was also much sweeter in the movie than in the book. It felt kind of emotionless and less inspirational here.

Pretty Dead Girls by Monica Murphy

Popular girls are turning up dead and our main character, Penelope, fears she may be next. I went into this expecting more serious take on Scream Queens. I read this back in September and I honestly don’t remember much other than the characters barely reacted to their classmates/friends deaths and the murderer was impossible to guess and was utterly lame. If the killer has to explain their motives with brand new information that was not found anywhere else in the book, it’s not a good twist.

The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher

This had a lot of potential and I know a lot of people have loved it but it fell flat for me in some places. The book is based on and sort of a sequel to the short story The White People. You definitely need to have read the short story first or this will make zero sense to you. Our main character, Mouse, spends much of the first third of the book cleaning out a hoarder’s house. It gets very tedious but picks up pace when the Twisted Ones are introduced. There are some good moments of tension but Mouse tends to ruin these moments attempting to be funny (which she’s not). The White People works best as a type of horror that is never truly explained but this book does just that. It’s at this point that the book lost me again. I think it’s mostly a matter of taste but I just wasn’t in to it.

Five Dark Fates by Kendare Blake

I loved this series as a whole but I did not like the ending. Mostly because my least favorite characters ended up as the “winners”. That’s all I’ll say about that.

The Invited by Jennifer McMahon

Helen and Nate decide to leave their cozy life behind to build (literally build) their own little house in a small superstitious town. Problem is, the land they’ve bought is where Hattie Breckenridge a women accused and murdered for witchcraft, lived a hundred years ago. This reads more like a murder thriller that just happens to have ghosts in it than a true ghost story. There were some great twists but it was slow in some places. Like learning about all the ins and outs of what goes into constructing your own house from scratch. Helen and Nate also suffer some martial problems, brought on by the ghost, that just made me anxious and probably wasn’t necessary. I know it adds to the drama and suspense but ugh.

The Best Lies by Sarah Lyu

There’s a murder. There’s a mystery. But that’s not really what this book is about. Remy’s boyfriend is dead and her best friend Elise is the one who killed him. But it was self defense. Probably. The majority of the book takes place in flashbacks starting with Remy and Elise meeting and becoming friends. What starts as a normal friendship slowly turns into a toxic and emotionally abusive codependent relationship. Ultimately, that’s what the book is about. It’s honestly a fantastic portrayal. It’s toxic on both sides but you understand why they care about each other and stay friends. Not all toxic relationships end with a death though and perhaps this would have packed more of a punch had our main character came to some conclusions about her best friend in another way.

Winterwood by Shea Ernshaw

Nora is a Walker and Walkers are witches. How do I know this? Because she mentions it every other page. For the most part this book was enjoyable but extremely predictable. I would still pick up the next book this author writes though.

2 Stars

The Dead Queens Club by Hannah Capin

A modern day retelling about Henry and his 6 wives but this time they are high schoolers. The story is narrated by Annie “Cleaves” Marek, Henry’s fourth wife girlfriend. I'm pretty much assuming everybody knows about Henry and his 6 wives at this point. So where the book really lost me was at the half way point where it turns into a murder mystery type book. If you know your history, you know who did the murder in this book. So the murder mystery angle doesn't work here, The characters don't know for sure, but we the readers do. It becomes somewhat tedious honestly. Our main character also sucked. Cleves was your typical quirky girl. She says witty things that really aren't witty. She claims to be a hardcore feminist but demonstrates this by kind scolding Henry when he says something sexist...and that's about it. This book was entertaining enough to keep me reading but I had my problems with it. Especially the second half. I think there are some people that will really like this spoofy tongue in check retelling but it just wasn't for me. You can read my full review here.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Let me just start by saying that I don't get the hype for this book. It’s an interesting concept but this book just did not work for me. It's somehow not long enough but nothing really happens throughout. The girls were not very "wild" and I don't know what the point of any of this was. This book has been called "feminist horror" and I don't understand that at all. The tox didn't empower them in any way and there wasn't any feminist themes throughout. The gore/body horror was minimal and not very creepy or disgusting at all. Overall, this book was not for me.

The Missing Season by Gillian French

Our lead character moves to a small town where kids go missing every year. The adults find logical reasons for these disappearances but the children of the town believe it is a monster named The Mumbler taking them. Interesting concept that wasn't fully realized. Nothing happens in this book until the last 20 pages. there's no build up or clues that led up to the big twist in the end. When the climax finally happens, it's over within ten pages and then the book ends another ten pages later. Minor plot points lead to nothing and the mumbler was barely played up to make this book suspenseful.

The Babysitter’s Coven by Kate Williams

Adventures in babysitting meets Buffy. Sorta. I went into this super excited and was hoping for something akin to Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. I did not get that. This reads more like a middle school book and was overly cheesy. I think younger teens would enjoy but I wasn’t a fan.

How She Died, How I Lived by Mary Crockett

Kyle texted five girls one night. Only one responded and met up with him. He killed her that night. Our unnamed narrator was one of the girls who didn’t answer his text and now she’s dealing with the aftermath of knowing it could have been her. f this book had ended differently, I would have rated it higher. I had major issues with the romance. The narrator starts a relationship with the slain girl’s boyfriend and it was so insanely toxic though it was written to be romantic.

Rereads

Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen (5 stars)

Just Listen by Sarah Dessen (5 Stars)

Gemma Doyle trilogy by Libba Bray (5 Stars)

Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins (5 Stars)

Heartless by Marissa Meyer (4 Stars)

The Beautiful Ones by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (5 Stars)

The Refrigerator Monologues by Catherynne M. Valente (5 Stars)

Short Stories

The White People by Arthur Machen (2 stars)

I like the story itself but the way it was written was horrendous and hard to follow. It was a huge rambling block of text.

Bridal Boot Camp by Meg Cabot (4 Stars)

The Grownup by Gillian Flynn (5 Stars)

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swindlersstole · 5 years

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SO. @exiledatrocity, i have no idea if you remember this:

but I remembered and I finally did it can I get a yeehaw

17. Under a bridge

This grove was way too lousy with little devils, Erik decided.

Truth be told, he’d decided that when they dealt with the first one in the chest, but while they hadn’t gotten any less annoying after that, they had at least stayed at the same level of threat—which was, to say, none at all. A nuisance, yes, but not the worst thing to happen to him and Nova all week, he thought.

Then one popped up riding on a cyclops’ shoulder.

This was a pretty common sight back in the forests of Sniflheim--trolls and ogres and the like hiding underneath bridges and underpasses waiting to get the drop on a hapless traveler was such a normal happenstance that it really only worked on people outside of the region. The locals knew all too well which areas to avoid, and Erik was no different. But it was a trend that didn’t seem to extend far beyond the Hekswood, so he’d never thought he’d have to worry about it until the day he went back.

If Erik had to make a guess, this was probably the fault of the devil. Little schemers, as the name suggested, it must have been smart enough to know there was power in numbers, and sensible enough to realize there was also power in being huge. It was certainly cackling like that was the case, laughing relentlessly at the puny humans unfortunate enough to cross their path.

In fact, it was laughing quite a bit. At his right, Nova gave Erik a very confused face, and Erik could only shrug back in turn. The cyclops seemed pretty weary of the situation, too.

The cackling didn’t seem to have any sign of stopping, and Erik cleared his throat. “Uhh… can we help you?”

“Kyaha--hrrm!” The devil snapped back to attention, posing as menacingly as it could on the troll’s shoulder. “You’ll be doing a lot more than that, chum! You lot are sneaking onto our territory, don’t you know.”

“No, we don’t.” Nova said, no less confused than he had been before. “We literally just walked over from the campsite.” The bundle of firewood they had collected for the night sat in his arms still as evidence. “You… definitely weren’t here five minutes ago.”

“Seriously. Were you stalking us, just waiting to get the drop?” Erik smirked. “Gotta say, that’s pretty lame of you. Following some strangers around just to toss a riddle on them.”

“Wha--a riddle?” Nova repeated, but went unanswered, because the little devil flung its fist around in a growing tantrum.

“How dare you! I was planning on taking your goods, but I’ve a right mind to clobber you senseless for that!”

The devil jumped up, and Erik’s hand darted for his dagger--but the cyclops was faster, and pushed the devil back on its shoulder with one smooshing of its big hand.

“Easy there, now.” The cyclops said, calm and steady. “We got ourselves a man a’ culture, ‘ere.”

The cyclops turned to look at Erik with a look of--what Erik assumed to be--newfound respect. “Y’know ‘bout the ol’ troll traditions, do ye’, guv?”

Still hesitant about the situation, Erik lowered his hand slowly. “About handing out riddles to travelers under bridges? Sure.”

“That’s… a thing?” Nova asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, it is. You don’t really see it this far south, though.” Erik crossed his arms. “Or from… well. From not a troll, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“No, right you are on that.” The cyclops seemed to take no offense, and beat at its chest once with its fist in pride. “Mum was a troll, though. Got th’ blood in me, I do.”

“Ah. Family tradition, then. I can respect that.” Erik nodded. “So, am I wrong in thinking that’s what we’ve been stopped for?”

“Well, it wasn’t ‘ntended. But, seein’ ‘as ‘ow yer in the know,” said the cyclops, almost sagely so, “I can’t rightly ignore th’ call. If you gents can answer a riddle, we’ll let ye by, no strings attached.”

“Really?” asked Nova, clearly relieved.

“What?!” shrieked the little devil, clearly ticked off.

“And if we can’t answer it,” Erik continued, with a raised brow, “we’ll have to go through the whole ‘grind our bones to make your bread’ song and dance, I take it?”

“Nah, just a regular ‘old up.” The cyclops waved away the clarification, like it was all just business as usual. “We did away wit’ the bones thing ages ago. Threw it out wit’ the bathwater when we unionized.”

“You unionized?” Color Erik surprised. And impressed. “Huh. Good for you.”

“Ex-cuuuse me!” The little devil looked more akin to a kettle left to boil, whistling up a storm. It tapped its heel against the cyclops’ shoulder to get its attention. “What do we look like, sphinxes?! We’re not running a bleedin’ brain teaser operation here!”

“Oi.” The cyclops narrowed its eye, voice still calm but laced with a threat. “It’s in me nature, it is. Can’t fight nature. An’ I ‘aven’t stopped you from playing yer dirty tricks up till now, now ‘ave I, mate? That’s your nature, innit?”

“Hrrrrgh...!” The devil grabbed at its horns in frustration. “At least make them… I don’t know, do something humiliating! You can’t just leave a chance like this be!”

The cyclops rolled its eye with a groan, before addressing Erik again. “Awful sorry ‘bout this, guv. You mind terribly answerin’ with an action, an’ not a word? ‘Fraid I won’t be ‘earin’ the end o’ this, otherwise.”

Erik and Nova glanced at one another, pity for this honorable cyclops on both their faces. Nova shrugged, and Erik ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, you’re being awfully considerate about it.” And the cyclops really was—easily within the Top Ten Monsters Erik Had Ever Met. “Wouldn’t be right if we started being picky now. Give us your best.”

The cyclops pounded its fist in his free hand, pleased by the answer. “Right, then. This should go down nice for everyone.”

It cleared its throat--and the guy really did seem pretty eager for this, Erik noted. Even monsters had itches to scratch, it seemed.

“‘Shared between two’,” the cyclops began, “‘Most often to woo. Sometimes hot and sometimes cold; the beginning of us all, young and old’.”

Out of the corner of Erik’s eye, Nova suddenly and very visibly tensed.

“Now, remember, to make this one ‘appy--” The cyclops gave the devil the side-eye, “--I’ll be needin’ ye to show me the answer. Not just say it.” It grumbled. “Really, dreadful sorry ‘bout it. Tried to give ye a nice one.”

“Oh, no trouble at all.” Erik said, swinging an arm over Nova’s shoulders, and noting all too clearly how he jumped from the contact. “Give us a minute to discuss.”

He turned them both away from the monstrous pair, and got a good look at Nova’s face. As Erik had suspected, he looked more frazzled than a simple riddle should have arguably left the Luminary, of all people. It didn’t bode too well.

“So. Judging from that face, you know the answer?”

Nova clutched at the firewood like a lifeline. “I--yeah, I do, actually. Do you?”

“Nope,” Erik said, “so how about you share the damage?”

For whatever reason, this very clearly did nothing to ease Nova’s nerves, and Erik swore he could probably hear how hard his heart was beating from the other end of the grove. “Are you… feeling alright?”

“It--ugh, cripes.” Nova brought a hand to his face, rubbing his temples. “I’m… fine. It’s nothing we can’t actually do, but it… there’s no getting around it, this is going to be awkward.”

“You’re beating around the bush, man.” He gave Nova’s shoulder a hearty pat. “Come on, spit it out.”

Nova made a strangled noise--and that got an excited gasp out of the devil, Erik heard--before his shoulders sank in defeat.

“Erik,” he said, “we have to kiss.”

Erik blinked. He slid his arm off Nova’s shoulders, hand coming to his chin, and he paused to consider this information.

“...Ohhh.” He said at last, understanding and unbothered, “‘Shared between two, most often to woo’... yeah, that does fit the bill, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it… yeah.” Nova lowered his head--the devil snickered not discreetly behind them at the sight--and he sighed. “So, you can see why this is a problem.”

“Not really, no.”

Nova snapped back up to look at him so fast, panic in his eyes and no color in his face, Erik was sure he heard his neck crack.

“You’re... okay with this?” He may as well have squeaked the word out. “You’re okay with this. How are you okay with this.”

“Hey, comparatively? That cyclops is on our side.” Erik shrugged. “It could have given us something way worse, or just skipped the formalities and come at us swinging. I’d say we got out pretty lucky.”

“Well… I guess, but—“

“Nova, come on.”

His hand fell back on Nova’s shoulder, and when Nova looked at him, he smiled. Erik hoped it was at least a little bit comforting; poor guy had way too much excitement in the past few days for just a simple country boy, and preferable as this riddle was to another fight they were too exhausted to handle, this might’ve been the last nail in the proverbial coffin for the Luminary.

“I got a plan, so just follow my lead. It’s gonna be okay. Trust me.” He squeezed Nova’s shoulder, and smirked. “You do trust me, right?”

Nova swallowed, but some color returned to his face--specifically in his cheeks, and probably not the color he would have wanted. It took some self-restraint on Erik’s part not to laugh; turned out Yggdrasil’s favorite little leaf was surprisingly (or perhaps fittingly?) chaste.

“I… of course I do, Erik.”

“Fantastic.” Probably not the wisest decision the Luminary could make, but it did do wonders for Erik’s ego. “Just relax, and let me handle it.”

He didn’t wait for an affirmation. Erik turned on his heel, back to face the monsters with confidence; Nova followed him in lockstep, anxiously clutching the firewood like a lifeline. “Hey! I think we got it all squared away.”

“Oh, we’ll be the judges of that!” The devil laughed, and the cyclops sighed in turn. At least the little demon was in on the bit now. “Go on, get to showing, then!”

“Man, you really have no sense of romance, do you?” Erik sighed. “Have it your way. Hold still a sec, Nova.”

That was not going to be a difficult request. Nova had planted his feet firmly on the ground, as it steeling himself for a hit, and when Erik brushed his left hand on Nova’s right cheek, he near well flinched at the touch. Erik couldn’t help the snicker that got out of him that time, and the glare Nova gave him was more akin to a pout; for his sake at least, Erik was glad his hand was blocking Nova’s face from the monsters.

Not that he couldn’t block much else about this, but. Price of the plan.

“Remember, just keep cool.” He muttered. “This’ll be over before you know it.”

“I… okay, but--” Nova whispered back, “But you still haven’t told me what y—”

Erik cut him off, swiping his right thumb on Nova’s lips, and pulled their faces to meet.

Nova made a noise, somewhere between a yelp and a muffled scream, and Erik had to imagine that he was making an expression to match, so it was a shame he had to miss it. Erik had closed his eyes once his lips had hit his thumb; one of them had to make this all believable, and that duty had long since fallen on his shoulders. Lucky for them he wasn’t half bad an actor.

To his credit, Nova was a fast learner. And if they’d had some time to prepare this plan in advance, he probably would have sold the act just as well. But they hadn’t had the time, and Nova went stock still in Erik’s hands, and his face and neck burnt against Erik’s fingers.

The fake kiss barely lasted a second--four, at the most, just to really make it convincing--and Erik pulled back with aplomb, and… yeah, Nova’s face looked just as alarmed and ready to combust as he’d imagined. Even his pupils had seemed to shrink from the shock. Erik wondered, idly, if this was how shypox got around so quickly. Could the Luminary even catch shypox? The chances seemed surprisingly high now.

Still calm and collected, he smiled at Nova with a raised brow, and patted his cheek once before walking back to their riddle assailants. “There. Happy now?”

The devil shrieked with raucous laughter, pointing and hollering at the two of them with unbridled joy. “Ohhhh, ho ho ho, that’s good! That’s good! His face, that’s so good! Oh, that’s gonna keep me going for a long while!”

“Glad t’ see ye’ve come around, mate.” The cyclops said, clearly relieved that its companion was satisfied. “All’s well, then, I’d say?”

“All’s very, very well!” The devil hopped off the cyclops, landing on the ground in a triumphant flip. “We’ll let you humans off easy now for giving us such a great laugh. But you’d better watch yourselves! We might not be so lenient next time!”

“Well, that’s mighty gracious of you.” Erik prodded along. “So thanks for that. I don’t think we’ll be forgetting anytime soon.”

The devil turned up its nose and puffed out its chest, thankfully unaware it was the butt of the joke. With a pleased hum, it turned an about face, and skipped off deeper into the grove.

The cyclops made move to follow its friend, but stopped before Erik, bending over to offer him its fist.

“Nicely done there, guv. Have t’ respect that kind o’ finesse.”

“I’m a tricky one.” Erik bumped his fist against the cyclops’; his hand barely covered one blue finger. “Can’t say I envy you with a partner like that, though.”

“Ah, s’alright. Fate’s got a funny way o’ workin’ out like that. Maybe he don’t got a fine head o’ hair like yers, but he’s a fine bloke when y’ get down to it.”

The cyclops pulled back its hand, large fingers unfurling into a point behind Erik. “Speakin’ of. Is he gonna be alright?”

Erik looked over his shoulder. Nova hadn’t budged even a bit since he’d stepped away, and looked like he was passing through sixteen different panic attacks--one for every birthday candle, Erik supposed, but still. It didn’t bode well for how settling down for sleep would inevitably go.

“...well,” said Erik, “he’ll snap out of it eventually.”

#panda does a write #he did snap out of it but it haunts him for the rest of the game #there was gonna be a part where it got into why erik knows how to do this #but i've been sitting on this one long enough as it is i need SOMETHING to get done this month

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