#in light of him losing his friend and his creation in a row)

[rorydrawsandwrites]

ESKIUSME???

[star-wars-writing]

A/N Just posted my latest story "A Bookstore Romance" on AO3! It's a tale of love, misunderstanding, and the beautiful journey of a relationship that starts and blossoms in a bookstore. it was written for the codywanbingo by @codywanbingo

@swfandomevents

The bell over the door chimed, marking the departure of the last customer of the morning, and Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself alone amidst the tranquil haven of his bookstore. He stood behind the counter, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over the cover of a hidden gem among romance novels, a genre he secretly adored yet never openly acknowledged. The warm, filtered sunlight streaming through the windows bathed the room in a cozy glow, highlighting the eclectic array of books that ranged from timeless classics to contemporary bestsellers.

Obi-Wan’s gaze, deep and thoughtful, swept across the store. Each shelf, each book, was a familiar friend, carefully curated and lovingly displayed in this quaint corner of the city that he had made his own. His passion for literature was evident in every carefully arranged display, every thoughtful recommendation he offered to his patrons.

At 30, Obi-Wan carried an air of youthful enthusiasm tempered with the poise of experience. His hair, a rich auburn, was often slightly tousled, as if he’d just run his hands through it while lost in thought. There was an ease about him, a quiet confidence that drew people in, encouraging them to linger in the aisles and lose themselves in the worlds contained within the pages.

As he turned the page of his book, a soft reflection in the glass caught his eye. He observed himself for a moment – not just the owner of a beloved bookstore but a man who still harbored dreams and desires, much like the characters in the stories he cherished.

The door opened, disrupting his solitude. A young couple stepped inside, their laughter echoing softly in the hushed atmosphere. They gravitated towards the travel books, their conversation a murmur of shared excitement and plans. Watching them, Obi-Wan felt a gentle tug in his chest, a reminder of the poignant and powerful tales of love that resonated with him most.

He smiled softly to himself and leaned back against the counter, his eyes drifting back to the novel in his hands. Here, in this little world of his creation, surrounded by tales of adventure, mystery, and love, he found a deep sense of contentment. Yet, in the quiet corners of his heart, the romantic stories whispered to him, kindling a hope that perhaps his own life might yet hold a chapter as yet unwritten.

Outside, the city moved at its relentless pace, but within the walls of the bookstore, time seemed to slow, each moment a page waiting to be turned.

The evening light filtered softly through the windows of the bookstore, casting a serene glow over the quiet interior. In a cozy corner, reserved for study and contemplation, Cody, the eldest of eight brothers, was engrossed in his architectural designs. His younger brother, Rex, sat opposite him, delving into the complexities of political science. This tranquil nook in Obi-Wan’s bookstore had become their refuge, a place away from the lively chaos of a household bustling with six younger siblings.

Cody, with a natural inclination towards leadership and responsibility, exuded a quiet strength that seemed to anchor those around him. His architectural drawings sprawled across the table, a testament to his talent and dedication. Rex, looking up to his elder brother, found in him both inspiration and guidance.

From his position behind the counter, Obi-Wan observed the brothers with a sense of admiration. The golden hue of the setting sun bathed the room, accentuating the rows of books that surrounded the brothers. Obi-Wan was particularly drawn to Cody, not just because of his academic focus, but also due to an unspoken connection he felt whenever their eyes met.

As the last customer departed, Obi-Wan approached the brothers, bearing a tray with three cups of tea, a gesture that had become a familiar ritual. "I thought a little tea might help with the studies," he said, his voice gentle, yet resonating with an underlying warmth.

Cody looked up, his eyes meeting Obi-Wan's. "That's very kind of you, Obi-Wan," he replied, his voice carrying a note of deep appreciation that resonated within Obi-Wan. There was an unspoken understanding in that brief exchange, a connection that lingered in the air.

Rex gratefully accepted the tea, his admiration for Obi-Wan evident. "You know, Obi-Wan, you're like the guardian angel of our study sessions," he joked lightly, eliciting a chuckle from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiled, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Well, I can't have my favorite architects and political analysts running on empty, can I?" he replied, playfully.

As the evening progressed and the time for closing drew near, Cody and Rex began to pack up their things. "We'll be back tomorrow, Obi-Wan," Cody called out, his voice echoing softly in the now-quiet bookstore.

"I'll be here," Obi-Wan replied, feeling a subtle pang of longing as he watched them leave. The door closed behind them, leaving a silence that felt more profound than before.

In the solitude of his bookstore, Obi-Wan's thoughts lingered on Cody. There was an undeniable pull between them, a burgeoning bond that extended beyond the usual rapport he had with his patrons. He found himself captivated by Cody’s passion for architecture, his dedication to his studies, and the way his presence seemed to fill the room.

Locking the door and dimming the lights, Obi-Wan reflected on the subtle yet significant moments they had shared. He knew such feelings were fraught with complexity, especially given his role as the owner of the bookstore. Yet, as he made his way home, he couldn't help but wonder about the uncharted territory of their growing connection, a story that was yet to unfold.

The next morning arrived with the gentle hum of the city awakening. Obi-Wan, behind the counter of his bookstore, was arranging a new display of classic novels when the familiar chime of the door announced the arrival of his first visitors. He looked up, a smile instinctively forming as he recognized Cody and Rex stepping into the warm, book-filled haven.

Cody's gaze met Obi-Wan's, a flash of unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. There was an ease about Cody, a confidence in his stride that belied his youth. His eyes, bright and attentive, often wandered around the bookstore with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. Today, however, there was a hint of determination in his demeanor, a purpose that seemed to extend beyond his usual academic focus.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Cody greeted, his voice carrying a clear note of respect.

"Morning, Cody, Rex," Obi-Wan replied, his attention briefly shifting to Rex before returning to Cody. "What brings you in so early today?"

Cody took a deep breath, his fingers absently tracing the spine of a book on the nearest shelf. "Actually, I was wondering if... if you might need some help around the store. I'm looking for a job, and I can't think of a better place than here."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose slightly, a mixture of surprise and something akin to pleasure flickering in his eyes. "Help in the bookstore?" he echoed, considering the proposal. The idea of having Cody around more often was unexpectedly appealing, yet he hesitated, aware of the delicate balance that existed between them.

"Yes," Cody continued, a hint of eagerness creeping into his voice. "I know my way around the store pretty well by now, and I'd really like to start saving up for the future."

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on Cody, taking in the earnestness in his expression. There was a sincerity in Cody's request that touched him, and he found himself wanting to say yes, to have Cody's presence become a more permanent fixture in the bookstore.

"Well, I could certainly use the extra hands," Obi-Wan admitted, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile. "Consider yourself part of the team, Cody."

The relief and joy that lit up Cody's face were unmistakable. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. You won't regret this," he said, his voice tinged with gratitude and excitement.

Rex, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chimed in, "Guess this means I'll be seeing even more of this place, huh?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm afraid so, Rex. But I promise to keep the coffee coming."

As Cody and Rex settled into their usual study corner, Obi-Wan found his thoughts lingering on the new arrangement. Having Cody as an employee would undoubtedly change the dynamics of their relationship. He felt a twinge of anticipation at the prospect of working alongside Cody, of seeing him every day in a context that went beyond their casual interactions.

Throughout the day, as he attended to customers and went about his tasks, Obi-Wan's mind often drifted to Cody. He watched him from afar, noting the way Cody interacted with the books, the gentle care he showed each volume he touched. There was a grace about him, a quiet strength that Obi-Wan found increasingly compelling.

As the bookstore closed for the day, Obi-Wan found himself looking forward to the following morning, to the new chapter that was about to begin in the story of his bookstore, a chapter that now included Cody not just as a patron, but as a part of its very essence. The prospect filled him with a sense of expectancy, a feeling that something significant was on the horizon.

A month had woven its way through the calendar since Cody began working at the bookstore, each day weaving him more intricately into the fabric of the quaint establishment. On a particularly slow Saturday morning, the store was bathed in the soft, diffused light of an overcast sky, casting a serene tranquility over the shelves brimming with stories.

Cody, who had by now familiarized himself with every nook and cranny of the store, was tidying up a section when he stumbled upon a well-thumbed copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' tucked away behind some newer releases. Curiosity piqued, he glanced over at Obi-Wan, who was engrossed in a book at the counter.

"Didn't take you for a fan of Regency romances," Cody remarked playfully, holding up the novel with an intrigued smile.

Obi-Wan looked up, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "Ah, yes, that's one of my personal favorites," he confessed, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and fondness. "Regency romances were actually my major back in university."

Cody's eyebrows arched in surprise, his smile broadening. "Really? I never would have guessed. You studied literature at the university?"

Obi-Wan nodded, a nostalgic glimmer in his eyes. "Yes, at the same one you're attending. I had a particular affinity for the romanticism and societal intricacies of the Regency period. There’s something about the elegance and the underlying passion of that era that always fascinated me."

Cody, intrigued, moved closer, the book still in hand. "I've always seen these novels as just love stories, but you make them sound like something more."

"There is much more to them," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward, his enthusiasm evident. "They are windows into the customs, the restraints, and the quiet rebellions of the time. The characters navigate through societal norms with such intricate emotions and intentions."

As Obi-Wan spoke, Cody found himself captivated, not just by the insight into the novels, but by the animated way Obi-Wan described them. His eyes sparkled with passion, and his hands moved expressively, painting the air with his words. Cody realized there was a depth to Obi-Wan he had yet to uncover, layers that extended beyond the calm and collected exterior of the bookstore owner.

"Maybe I should give one of these a read," Cody said thoughtfully, flipping through the pages of 'Pride and Prejudice'. "Any recommendations on where to start?"

"Start with that one in your hands," Obi-Wan suggested, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It's a classic for a reason. And if you have any questions or want to discuss it, I'm more than willing."

The offer, simple as it was, felt like an invitation into a part of Obi-Wan’s world that Cody had not yet explored. It was an opportunity to connect on a level they hadn’t before, a prospect that filled Cody with an unexpected sense of excitement.

The rest of the day passed with a new, subtle energy between them. Cody found himself stealing glances at Obi-Wan, pondering this newfound facet of his character. Obi-Wan, in turn, caught Cody’s gaze several times, each exchange sending a ripple of something unspoken through the air.

As the day drew to a close and the last customer left, Cody lingered at the counter. "I'm looking forward to starting this," he said, holding up the novel. "Thanks for the recommendation, Obi-Wan."

"It was my pleasure, Cody," Obi-Wan replied, his voice warm with sincerity. "Enjoy the journey into Regency England."

With a final smile, Cody tucked the book under his arm and headed out, leaving Obi-Wan in the quiet aftermath. As he locked up the bookstore, Obi-Wan found himself reflecting on the day, on the shared moments and the unexplored paths that lay ahead. His heart felt lighter, buoyed by the prospect of new conversations, new shared experiences with Cody. It was a connection that was slowly, yet undeniably, transforming from mere acquaintance into something much richer, something that hinted at the promise of deeper bonds yet to be formed.

A week had whisked by since Cody borrowed 'Pride and Prejudice' from the bookstore, a week in which the pages of Regency England had unfurled before him. Saturday arrived, bringing with it the familiar rhythm of a workday at the bookstore. Cody stepped through the door that morning with a sense of purpose, the novel tucked securely under his arm.

Obi-Wan, rearranging a display of new arrivals, looked up at Cody's entrance. There was a quiet anticipation in his gaze, a silent inquiry about the novel. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow that danced over the bookshelves and spilled onto the floor, creating a welcoming ambience.

"I finished it," Cody announced, placing the book on the counter with a thoughtful expression. "And while I can appreciate the charm and the wit of Austen, I think I'm more of a mystery and adventure kind of guy."

Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled with amusement and interest. "Is that so?" he replied, leaning on the counter. "Well, there's no shortage of mystery and adventure here. Any particular favorites or authors you're drawn to?"

Cody’s face lit up with a more animated expression. "I've always been a fan of Arthur Conan Doyle's work. There’s something about Sherlock Holmes' deductive reasoning and the atmospheric London he navigates that I find really engaging."

"Ah, the classic detective and his loyal companion, Watson," Obi-Wan mused, his voice warm with shared enthusiasm. "There's a timeless quality to those stories, a blend of intellect and intrigue that's hard to resist."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, the topics meandering from one author to another, from classic literature to contemporary thrillers. As they talked, Cody found himself drawn into Obi-Wan's world of books even more deeply. There was a passion in Obi-Wan's words, a depth of knowledge that was both impressive and endearing.

Obi-Wan, in turn, was captivated by Cody's perspectives, finding joy in the young man's keen insights and the lively spark in his eyes as he spoke. There was a connection forming between them, one that transcended the roles of employer and employee, something more profound and intimate.

As the morning gave way to afternoon, the bookstore filled with customers, but the energy of their conversation lingered in the air. Obi-Wan and Cody worked side by side, their interactions marked by an easy camaraderie and occasional shared glances that spoke volumes.

Later, as the day began to wind down and the last customer left, Cody and Obi-Wan found themselves alone amidst the quiet serenity of the bookstore.

"You know," Cody said, leaning against the counter, "talking about books with you, it's like seeing them in a whole new light. It makes coming to work here even more enjoyable."

Obi-Wan’s face softened with a genuine smile. "I'm glad to hear that, Cody. And I must admit, having you here has brought a new dimension to this place. It's... refreshing."

The words hung in the air, charged with an unspoken emotion, a recognition of the bond that was steadily growing between them. As they locked up the store and said their goodbyes, there was a lingering sense of connection, a promise of more conversations and shared moments to come.

As Cody walked away, book in hand, and Obi-Wan watched him leave, they both felt a quiet anticipation for the next day, for the next chapter in their unfolding story. The bookstore, a haven of stories and dreams, had become the backdrop to their own evolving narrative, one that was just beginning to be written.

*** 

As the weeks unfurled, the bookstore wove its timeless spell around Cody and Obi-Wan, drawing them into an ever-deepening camaraderie. Cody's presence during the week, a studious figure immersed in his architectural designs, had become a constant in the quiet hum of the store. On weekends, his role shifted to that of Obi-Wan’s assistant, their interactions punctuated by shared tasks and easy conversations that spanned from the philosophical depths of literature to the light-hearted banter of daily life.

The air between them was charged with an unspoken recognition, a realization that what had started as a mere curiosity was blossoming into something richer, more profound. It was in the way Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on Cody a moment longer than necessary, in the warmth that radiated from him whenever Cody entered the room.

One particularly rainy afternoon, as the soft patter of raindrops created a cocoon around the bookstore, Cody and Obi-Wan found themselves alone, organizing a section of historical novels. The rhythmic sound of the rain against the windows lent a cozy intimacy to the store, a world removed from the bustle outside.

Cody, arranging books on a lower shelf, paused and looked up at Obi-Wan. "You know, I never imagined I'd find a place like this," he said, his voice a blend of gratitude and reflection. "Or someone like you. You've made me see books, see the world, in a new light."

Obi-Wan, standing close, books in hand, met Cody's gaze. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness that he rarely allowed others to see. "Cody, I..." he began, then hesitated, searching for the right words. "I feel the same. Having you here, it's changed the bookstore for me, made it more... alive."

The words hung in the air, a confession of sorts, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other, the unspoken emotions swirling around them like the gentle storm outside.

Cody broke the silence, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I guess we're both discovering new chapters, aren't we?"

Obi-Wan returned the smile, a warmth spreading through him. "Yes, we are," he agreed, his heart beating a little faster.

Their conversation drifted to other topics, but the underlying current remained, a shared awareness of the growing affection between them. As they continued their work, their movements became more synchronized, a dance of two people becoming increasingly attuned to each other.

The rest of the day passed in a comfortable rhythm, marked by shared laughs, meaningful glances, and an ease that spoke of a deepening bond. When it was time to close, they lingered at the door, neither quite ready to part ways.

"See you tomorrow, Obi-Wan," Cody said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance.

"Tomorrow," Obi-Wan echoed, watching as Cody stepped out into the rain, an umbrella blooming open above him.

As the door closed, Obi-Wan stood there for a moment, lost in thought. The bookstore, once a haven for solitary contemplation, had become the setting of something new and exhilarating – a connection with Cody that promised to turn the page to a new and uncharted chapter in both their lives. The rain continued to tap against the window, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but inside, Obi-Wan's heart was alight with the warmth of possibilities yet to come.

*** 

Weeks cascaded into months, and the cozy bookstore continued to be a sanctuary of shared glances and unspoken words between Cody and Obi-Wan. The subtle transformation in their relationship was like a quietly unfolding novel, each chapter revealing deeper layers of connection and affection.

During the week, Cody and his brother Rex would frequent the store to study, their heads bent over books and notes. Rex, observant and perceptive, began to notice the nuanced changes in the air whenever Cody and Obi-Wan interacted. It was in the way Cody's eyes would unconsciously seek out Obi-Wan, lighting up when their gazes met. It was in the lingering smiles, the soft timbre of their voices, rich with an undercurrent of something more than just friendship.

One quiet afternoon, as the golden sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the rows of books, Rex watched as Cody and Obi-Wan shared a laugh over a small anecdote Obi-Wan had recounted. The laughter faded, but their smiles remained, a silent acknowledgement of the joy they found in each other’s company.

Rex leaned back in his chair, his book momentarily forgotten. He had seen his brother in various stages of life, but this was different. Cody was smitten, thoroughly and irrevocably, with Obi-Wan. And from what Rex could tell, the feeling was mutual.

Later, as they packed up to leave, Rex decided to broach the subject. "Cody, can I ask you something?" he said, his tone casual but curious.

Cody looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about Obi-Wan," Rex started, watching Cody's reaction closely. "I've noticed... well, it seems like there's something more between you two. Am I wrong?"

Cody's face flushed a soft shade of pink, a mix of embarrassment and realization dawning on him. "I... well, I guess it's hard to hide," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I do like him, Rex. More than I probably should."

Rex nodded, understanding and supportive. "And I think he feels the same, Cody. I've seen the way he looks at you."

Cody’s eyes held a blend of hope and uncertainty. "Do you think so?" he asked, the question laden with the weight of his feelings.

"I do," Rex affirmed, placing a reassuring hand on Cody's shoulder. "Just be careful, okay? I want you to be happy, but I also don't want you to get hurt."

Cody nodded, a silent appreciation in his gaze. "Thanks, Rex. I'll be careful. I promise."

As they stepped out of the bookstore, Rex glanced back at Obi-Wan, who was watching them leave. There was a softness in Obi-Wan's eyes, a look that spoke volumes. Rex felt a sense of reassurance, a belief that whatever was brewing between Cody and Obi-Wan was genuine and profound.

The walk home was filled with contemplative silence, both brothers lost in their thoughts. Cody was grappling with the newfound acknowledgment of his feelings for Obi-Wan, the possibilities and fears it entailed. Rex, on the other hand, was contemplating the changing dynamics, hopeful yet cautious about the future.

The bookstore, a haven of stories and dreams, had unknowingly become the stage for their own evolving story, a narrative rich with emotion and the promise of something beautiful yet to be fully realized.

That night, under the canopy of a starlit sky, Rex found himself wrestling with a turmoil of thoughts. Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, the shadows cast by the moonlight playing across the room. His mind replayed the conversation with Cody, the admission, the hope in his brother's eyes. Yet, intermingled with these reflections was a growing seed of worry, a concern that gnawed at the edges of his initial support.

Seven years. The age difference between Cody and Obi-Wan lingered in Rex's mind, a stark number that seemed to grow more significant in the quiet of the night. He turned over on his side, a sense of unease settling over him. Had he been too quick to encourage Cody? Was he inadvertently setting his brother up for a fall?

The more Rex thought about it, the more the idea of their relationship began to unsettle him. Obi-Wan, with his quiet charm and mature demeanor, was a world apart from the youthful, spirited Cody. Rex respected Obi-Wan, admired him even, for the sanctuary he had created in the bookstore, for the way he had welcomed them both. But this, this was different.

The clock ticked on, its rhythmic sound a steady reminder of the passing hours. Rex turned again, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He cared deeply for Cody, wanted nothing but happiness for him, but the thought of his brother potentially getting hurt was unbearable.

The thought stayed with Rex, a persistent echo throughout the night. By the time morning arrived, painting the room with the first light of dawn, Rex had made a decision. He couldn't, in good conscience, encourage this relationship. The risk, he felt, was too great.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, Cody lost in his thoughts, likely about Obi-Wan, while Rex grappled with how to voice his concerns. As they prepared to leave for the day, Rex finally spoke up.

"Cody, about yesterday... I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant. "Maybe I was too quick to... you know, about you and Obi-Wan."

Cody looked at him, a frown creasing his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's a great guy, but he's also seven years older than you. That's not a small thing," Rex said, the words difficult but necessary.

Cody's expression shifted, a blend of confusion and hurt flickering in his eyes. "I thought you were okay with it," he replied, a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice.

"I am, or I was," Rex said, struggling to articulate his turmoil. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, Cody. Relationships are complicated, and with the age gap, it's just... I don't know."

The brothers walked in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Rex's heart was heavy with concern, while Cody’s mind raced with a mix of doubt and disappointment.

As they reached the bookstore, the familiar chime of the doorbell sounded almost melancholic. Rex cast a glance at Cody, who offered a forced smile before heading to his usual spot to study.

Rex watched him go, a knot of worry in his stomach. He hoped he had done the right thing, yet the uncertainty remained, a lingering question mark over the complexities of the heart.

**** 

The evening found Obi-Wan stepping into a familiar café, a place steeped in nostalgia and echoes of his university days. Here, beneath the warm glow of dimmed lights and the soft murmur of conversations, he was meeting his old friends, Mace, Plo Koon, and Quinlan. They had shared not just a dorm but countless memories during their university years. Now, each had carved their own path, teaching at the university, molding minds in academic halls. Obi-Wan, though, had chosen a different route, one that indulged his love for literature in the quaint confines of his bookstore.

As they settled into a quiet corner, the air was filled with laughter and the easy banter of old friends reuniting. Mace, always the perceptive one, noticed a subtle change in Obi-Wan, a certain preoccupation in his usually serene demeanor.

"Everything alright, Obi-Wan?" Mace inquired, his gaze sharp but concerned.

Obi-Wan hesitated, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. The café, with its soft jazz playing in the background and the gentle clink of cups, suddenly felt too intimate, too revealing. "Actually, there's something I've been meaning to talk about," he began, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

The others leaned in, a silent show of support and curiosity. Plo Koon, with his kindly eyes, gave Obi-Wan an encouraging nod.

"It's about one of your students, Plo," Obi-Wan continued, his eyes meeting Plo's. "Cody, he's been working at my bookstore for a while now, and... well, I think I might have feelings for him."

A hush fell over the group, the revelation hanging in the air. Quinlan raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and intrigue on his face. "Cody? He's a bright kid, top of his class in architecture," he commented.

"I think I have feelings for him. But I haven’t felt this way since... since Satine."

The mention of Satine brought a collective nod of understanding from the group. They remembered all too well the heartbreak Obi-Wan had endured, how Satine, a fellow student back then, had drifted away from him, leaving him with a wound that had taken years to heal.

Mace, leaning forward, placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. "That was a tough time for you, we all know that. But it's been six years, Obi-Wan. You can't let one bad experience dictate your life."

Quinlan, always the more outspoken, chimed in. "Six years isn’t a huge age gap, and from what I've seen of Cody in my classes, he's mature for his age. He’s not Satine, Obi-Wan. You can't project the past onto him."

Plo Koon, his voice gentle and reassuring, added, "It's natural to be cautious, Obi-Wan, but you also deserve happiness. We've all seen bigger age differences work out just fine. The question is, does he make you happy?"

The question lingered in the air, mingling with the soft jazz notes that filled the café. Obi-Wan pondered, his gaze distant. "He does," he admitted, almost in a whisper. "There’s a warmth, a connection I haven’t felt in a long time. I just don’t want to rush into anything."

"Then take it slow," Mace advised, his tone supportive. "Get to know him better outside the bookstore. But don’t let fear hold you back, Obi-Wan. You’ve been guarding your heart for a long time. Maybe it's time to let someone in again."

The conversation gradually shifted to other topics, but the support and understanding from his friends left a profound impact on Obi-Wan. As he left the café that evening, a sense of clarity began to settle in his mind. The night air was crisp and clear, echoing the newfound resolution in his heart.

The walk home was contemplative, Obi-Wan’s thoughts centered on Cody. The idea of exploring this budding relationship, cautiously yet earnestly, felt like a new beginning, a chance to step out of the shadows of the past.

As he unlocked the door to his home, Obi-Wan felt a gentle stirring of hope within him. The memories of Satine would always be a part of him, but now, perhaps, it was time for a new chapter, one where he could explore the possibilities that lay with Cody, a chapter filled with the promise of something genuine and heartfelt. The thought brought a small, hopeful smile to his face as he stepped inside, ready to embrace whatever the future might hold.

**** 

In the quiet sanctuary of the bookstore, where the stories whispered from aged pages and the subtle scent of books filled the air, a delicate balance had been maintained for months. Obi-Wan and Cody, each moving in their own orbits, had established a dance of friendship and unspoken emotions, a rhythm that had become a comforting part of their daily lives. Yet, beneath the surface of this camaraderie, deeper currents flowed – currents of which Obi-Wan was only half-aware and had convinced himself were one-sided.

Rex, ever observant and protective of his elder brother, had seen the way Cody's eyes would linger on Obi-Wan, the way his laughter seemed brighter, his smiles more frequent whenever Obi-Wan was near. It was clear to Rex that Cody harbored deeper feelings for Obi-Wan, feelings that Obi-Wan, in his cautious restraint, had either missed or chosen to ignore.

One evening, as the bookstore was winding down and the soft glow of the lamps cast a cozy ambiance, Rex approached Obi-Wan at the counter. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by a seriousness that immediately drew Obi-Wan's attention.

"Obi-Wan, can we talk?" Rex's voice carried a gravity that signaled the importance of his words.

"Of course, Rex. What's on your mind?" Obi-Wan responded, his expression one of open concern.

Rex took a deep breath, his protective instinct for Cody at the forefront. "It's about Cody," he began, his gaze steady. "I know he's more than just a friend to you, and you to him. But he's my brother, and I've always looked out for him. I've seen how he looks at you, and I'm worried."

Obi-Wan felt a flush of surprise and confusion. "Rex, I assure you, there's nothing inappropriate—"

"I'm not saying there is," Rex interrupted, his tone firm yet measured. "I just want you to be aware of how much influence you have over him. He's younger, and you're his employer. I don't want him getting hurt."

The words hit Obi-Wan like a wave, a mixture of guilt and realization washing over him. He had always prided himself on his integrity, especially regarding Cody. The idea that he might unwittingly be leading Cody on, or worse, taking advantage of his feelings, was deeply unsettling.

"Rex, I... I never intended," Obi-Wan stammered, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. "I've always seen our relationship as purely platonic. If Cody feels otherwise... I had no idea."

Rex nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I know you're a good guy, Obi-Wan. But sometimes, we don't see the whole picture. Just... be careful, okay?"

Obi-Wan nodded silently, his mind reeling from the conversation. As Rex walked away, a heavy silence settled over Obi-Wan. The realization that his feelings for Cody might be mutual, and the implications of acting on them, were suddenly very real and daunting.

The store emptied, leaving Obi-Wan alone with his thoughts. The books, once sources of comfort and escape, now stood as silent witnesses to his internal turmoil. He felt a pang of something akin to shame, mixed with a fear of causing Cody any pain. The possibility of mutual affection, which should have brought joy, now seemed fraught with complexities and moral dilemmas.

Locking up the bookstore that night, Obi-Wan stepped out into the cool air, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Rex's words echoed in his ears, a reminder of the responsibility he held, not just as Cody's employer but as someone who, despite his denials, might hold a piece of Cody's heart. The walk home was longer than usual, each step heavy with contemplation and a newfound wariness of the path his heart had unwittingly taken.

*** 

The following Saturday dawned with a sense of foreboding for Obi-Wan. Rex's words from their previous conversation echoed in his mind, a constant, nagging reminder of the complexity and potential consequences of his feelings for Cody. As he prepared the bookstore for the day, each action felt heavier, each decision more consequential. The usual excitement he felt in anticipation of Cody's arrival was now tinged with a sense of trepidation.

When Cody finally stepped through the door, his usual bright smile in place, Obi-Wan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He greeted Cody with a polite nod and a subdued "good morning," a stark contrast to their usually warm exchanges. Cody, taken aback by the formal greeting, tried to gauge Obi-Wan's mood.

"Everything okay, Obi-Wan?" Cody asked, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

Obi-Wan forced a smile, his heart heavy. "Yes, everything's fine. Just one of those mornings, you know?"

As the day progressed, Obi-Wan found himself consciously maintaining a distance from Cody, his interactions professional and devoid of their usual camaraderie. He avoided lingering conversations, focusing instead on mundane tasks and keeping himself busy with stocking shelves and organizing the back office.

Cody, sensing the change in Obi-Wan's demeanor, couldn't help but feel a sting of hurt. The warm, comfortable atmosphere they had cultivated over the months seemed to have evaporated, leaving a cold void in its place. He found himself glancing at Obi-Wan frequently, trying to understand the sudden shift. Each curt response, each avoided eye contact from Obi-Wan, felt like a small rejection, a denial of the connection he had come to cherish.

The usually lively bookstore felt oppressively quiet to Cody, the silence between them a stark reminder of the intangible barrier that had formed overnight. He tried to focus on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Obi-Wan, to the laughter and conversations that now felt like distant memories.

As the day neared its end, and the sun cast long shadows across the bookstore, Cody approached Obi-Wan at the counter, a sense of resolve in his steps.

"Obi-Wan, if I've done something to upset you, please tell me," Cody said, his voice low and earnest. "I thought we were friends, but it feels like you're avoiding me today."

Obi-Wan hesitated, torn between his own feelings and the responsibility he felt towards Cody. "Cody, you haven't done anything wrong. It's just me... I need to sort out some things. I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable."

Cody searched Obi-Wan's face for clues, for any sign of the warmth he had grown accustomed to. "Okay, if you're sure. Just know that I'm here if you need to talk," he offered, the words spoken with genuine care.

The finality of the day's closing brought a sense of relief to Obi-Wan, yet also a deep-seated regret. As he locked the doors and watched Cody walk away, a part of him yearned to call out, to bridge the gap he had created. But the fear of what might happen, of stepping over a line he wasn't sure existed, held him back.

That night, Obi-Wan lay awake, the events of the day replaying in his mind. The distance he had put between them felt like a necessary precaution, yet it also felt like a loss, a step away from something that might have been beautiful. In his heart, he knew that his feelings for Cody were more than mere friendship, but Rex's words, the potential imbalance of their relationship, loomed large, casting a shadow over any possibility of exploring what those feelings might mean. The quiet loneliness of his room was a stark contrast to the lively, warm presence of Cody, a reminder of the delicate dance of human emotions and the choices that define them.

Cody, feeling a whirlwind of confusion and hurt after the day at the bookstore, knew there was only one person who could provide the clarity he so desperately sought: his grandfather, Jaster. Jaster had always been a pillar of wisdom in Cody's life, offering guidance and understanding in moments of uncertainty.

As Cody drove to his grandfather's house, the familiar route offered little comfort. His mind replayed the day's events, each interaction with Obi-Wan scrutinized, each moment of distance dissected. The more he thought about it, the more bewildered he felt. He had been so sure, so hopeful, about the connection they shared.

Arriving at Jaster's home, a quaint cottage surrounded by a well-tended garden, Cody felt a slight easing of the tension that had built up inside him. Jaster, a robust man in his late seventies with a gentle smile and eyes that sparkled with a mix of mischief and wisdom, greeted Cody warmly.

"Cody, my boy, what brings you here?" Jaster asked, his voice rich with affection as he led Cody into the cozy living room.

Cody took a deep breath, the familiar scents of the house – a blend of old books and a hint of pine – providing a small sense of comfort. "Grandpa, I... I need some advice," he began, hesitantly.

Jaster settled into his favorite armchair, gesturing for Cody to sit across from him. "You know you can tell me anything, Cody."

It took a moment for Cody to find the words, his emotions a tangled web. "It's about Obi-Wan," he said finally, his voice laced with a mix of hope and apprehension. "I think I've fallen for him. More than just a friend. But lately, he's been distant, and I don't understand why. I thought... I thought we had something special."

Jaster listened intently, his expression one of understanding and empathy. "Love can be a tricky thing, Cody. It opens us up in ways we never expect. But tell me, have you shared these feelings with Obi-Wan?"

Cody shook his head, a sense of regret washing over him. "No, I haven't. I was actually working up the courage to ask him out for drinks or something. But now, with the way he's been acting, I'm not sure if he even sees me that way."

Jaster leaned forward, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Cody, sometimes people react out of fear or uncertainty, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Maybe Obi-Wan is dealing with his own doubts or concerns. The best course might be to talk to him openly about how you feel."

Cody nodded, the wisdom in his grandfather's words resonating within him. "I just don't want to ruin what we already have," he admitted, the fear of rejection clear in his voice.

"Sometimes, taking a risk is the only way to find true happiness," Jaster said gently. "But whatever you decide, know that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to feel what you're feeling."

The conversation continued, Jaster offering both comfort and counsel, helping Cody navigate the tumultuous waters of his emotions. As Cody left his grandfather's house later that evening, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The advice to be open and honest with Obi-Wan echoed in his mind, a daunting yet necessary step he knew he had to take.

The drive back was contemplative, Cody's thoughts a mix of apprehension and resolve. The idea of baring his heart to Obi-Wan was frightening, yet the possibility of discovering a mutual affection, of exploring the potential of what they could be, offered a glimmer of hope. He knew the conversation with Obi-Wan wouldn't be easy, but it was a bridge he was now willing to cross, armed with the wisdom and encouragement from the one person who had always guided him through life's complexities.

Cody, carrying the weight of his newfound resolve, sought out Rex the following day. He found his younger brother immersed in his studies at the bookstore, his brow furrowed in concentration. The air was filled with the soft rustle of pages and the distant hum of the city outside – a peaceful backdrop to the tumultuous emotions swirling within Cody.

"Rex, can we talk for a sec?" Cody asked, his voice tinged with both determination and apprehension.

Rex looked up, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Sure, what's up?"

Cody took a deep breath, the words he had rehearsed with his grandfather now sitting on the edge of his tongue. "I've decided to ask Obi-Wan out, after the exams are over. I know you have your doubts, but I feel like this is something I have to do."

Rex's eyes widened slightly, a mix of worry and surprise evident in his gaze. "Cody, are you sure about this? I mean, Obi-Wan's a great guy, but the age difference, and him being your boss..."

Cody nodded, a resolute look in his eyes. "I know, but I can't shake these feelings, Rex. I need to know if there's a chance for something more between us."

Rex sighed, his protective instincts kicking in. "Alright, just... be careful, okay? I don't want to see you get hurt."

Cody offered a small, grateful smile. "I will. Thanks, Rex."

The conversation lingered in Rex's mind as he returned to his studies, a sense of foreboding accompanying his thoughts. He couldn't help but worry about the potential fallout, the complications that could arise from Cody's confession.

Later that day, as Rex was packing up his things, Obi-Wan approached him. "Rex, could you pass a message to Cody for me? I won't be here tomorrow when he's supposed to work. I have to help Quinlan with some exam corrections for his literature courses."

Rex, caught off guard by the request, nodded. "Sure, I'll let him know. Anything else?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, a troubled look crossing his face. "Just... tell him I'm sorry for missing the day. I'll make it up to him."

Rex observed Obi-Wan closely, sensing an undercurrent of something unspoken in his tone. "No problem, Obi-Wan. I'll pass it along."

As Rex left the bookstore, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Obi-Wan's request, innocent as it seemed, felt like another piece in the complex puzzle of emotions and intentions surrounding his brother and the bookstore owner.

The walk home was filled with Rex's internal debate – the desire to protect Cody from potential heartache, the hope that perhaps something beautiful could blossom between him and Obi-Wan, and the fear of being caught in the middle of it all. He knew he would have to tread carefully, to be there for Cody, come what may, while also respecting his brother's decision to follow his heart.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, left alone in the quiet bookstore, felt a pang of regret at the lie he had told Rex. The truth was, he needed time to think, to process his own feelings for Cody, which he had kept buried beneath a veneer of friendship and professionalism. Helping Quinlan was just a convenient excuse to put some distance between himself and Cody, to avoid facing the reality of what might happen if Cody ever revealed his feelings.

The bookstore closed for the night, and Obi-Wan walked home under a starlit sky, his thoughts a tangled web of fear, longing, and uncertainty. The prospect of Cody asking him out, something he had both yearned for and dreaded, now loomed large in his mind, a decision that could change everything. He knew he would have to face his feelings soon, but for now, the night offered a brief respite, a chance to gather his courage for the days ahead.

Rex walked into the bustling atmosphere of their family home, the sounds of life and laughter echoing through the halls. He found Cody in the kitchen, surrounded by the usual chaos of their younger siblings. The air was thick with the aroma of dinner cooking, and the countertop was cluttered with various ingredients and utensils.

"Cody, got a minute?" Rex asked, motioning for his brother to step aside from the commotion.

Cody wiped his hands on a dish towel and followed Rex to the quieter living room. "What's up?" he asked, noting the serious expression on Rex's face.

Rex hesitated, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on him. He knew what he was about to do might hurt Cody, but he believed it was for the best. "I talked to Obi-Wan at the bookstore today. He asked me to tell you he won't be in tomorrow. Said he's got... a date."

Cody's expression faltered, a visible shadow crossing his face. "A date?" he repeated, the word sounding hollow, distant. A myriad of emotions flickered across his eyes – confusion, hurt, a sense of betrayal.

"Yeah," Rex continued, his voice laced with feigned casualness. "I guess he's seeing someone."

Cody turned away, his gaze falling to the floor. The news felt like a physical blow, a sharp, unexpected pain that cut through the hope he had been nurturing. All the moments he had shared with Obi-Wan, the laughter, the deep conversations, suddenly seemed insignificant, overshadowed by this revelation.

"I... I see," Cody managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for telling me."

Rex watched his brother retreat into himself, a part of him regretting the lie but holding onto the belief that it was better for Cody to face this disappointment now rather than later.

Cody excused himself, citing a need for some fresh air. He stepped outside into the cool evening, the sky painted with hues of twilight. The world around him felt suddenly distant, unimportant. He walked aimlessly, his mind replaying every interaction with Obi-Wan, searching for signs he had missed, clues that Obi-Wan was interested in someone else.

The hurt settled in his chest, a heavy, aching presence. He had been so close to revealing his feelings, so close to taking that leap. Now, the thought of Obi-Wan with someone else made him question everything – their friendship, the connection he had felt, the moments he had cherished.

Back at the house, Rex observed his brother's departure with a conflicted heart. He knew he had taken a risk, one that might backfire. But in his mind, he was protecting Cody, shielding him from a potential heartbreak that could shatter him. Rex hoped that, in time, Cody would understand and forgive him for this deception.

As the night deepened, both brothers were lost in their thoughts, each grappling with the complexities of emotions and the decisions that had led them to this point. For Cody, it was a night of heartache and questioning, a turning point in his feelings for Obi-Wan. For Rex, it was a restless night, filled with doubt and the hope that he had made the right choice. The path ahead was uncertain, the outcome unknown, but the journey of their hearts continued, each step laden with the weight of unspoken words and hidden truths.

As Obi-Wan and Quinlan sat in the quietude of Quinlan's office, surrounded by the academic trappings of marked papers and textbooks, the air was filled with the rhythmic scratching of pens and an undercurrent of thoughtful silence. It was in this contemplative atmosphere that Obi-Wan broached the subject weighing heavily on his mind.

“Quinlan, can we talk about something personal?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice tinged with hesitance.

Quinlan glanced up, his sharp eyes softening. “Of course, Obi-Wan. What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan delved into the heart of his turmoil. “It’s about Cody. Rex, his brother, warned me off, saying I might be reading too much into our friendship. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, but I’m... I’m not sure of my own feelings anymore.”

Quinlan leaned back, his expression turning pensive. “I’ve been to your store, Obi-Wan. I’ve seen you and Cody together. There’s a connection there, and it’s not just one-sided. Cody looks at you in a way that’s more than just friendly.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and introspection flickering across his face. “You think so? I’ve been convincing myself that he just sees me as a friend, nothing more.”

“From what I’ve seen, there’s definitely something there,” Quinlan affirmed, his voice steady and reassuring. “Cody’s feelings seem to mirror your own. There’s a warmth, a mutual respect and something deeper. I think you’re both dancing around something that’s pretty clear to an outside observer.”

The words stirred something in Obi-Wan, a glimmer of hope mixed with a swirl of apprehension. “But what about the concerns Rex raised? The age difference, the fact that he works for me?”

Quinlan considered this for a moment. “Those are valid concerns, but they don’t have to be deal-breakers. You’re both adults, and as long as you approach this with honesty and respect, there’s no reason not to explore what you both clearly feel.”

Obi-Wan absorbed his friend's words, feeling a tumultuous mix of emotions. The possibility that Cody might reciprocate his feelings changed everything. It turned his carefully maintained distance into an unnecessary barrier, his caution into a potential lost opportunity.

As they wrapped up their work and parted ways, Obi-Wan felt a newfound sense of clarity. Quinlan’s observations had given him a different perspective, a nudge toward facing the truth of his feelings and the potential of what lay between him and Cody.

Walking back to the bookstore, Obi-Wan’s mind was alight with possibilities. The thought of having a conversation with Cody, of possibly stepping into a relationship, was both daunting and exhilarating. He realized now that he owed it to both of them to find out where their mutual affection could lead.

That evening, as Obi-Wan walked through the quiet streets, his thoughts were filled with Cody. The prospect of opening up about his feelings, of potentially starting a new chapter together, brought a mix of nerves and excitement. The night seemed to hold a sense of promise, a whisper of what could be if he only dared to reach out and grasp it. With each step, Obi-Wan felt a growing resolve. It was time to step out of the shadows of doubt and into the light of possibility.

*** 

The walk back to his car from the bookstore felt longer than usual for Cody. The day had been strangely hollow without Obi-Wan's presence, the store's usually comforting atmosphere now tinged with a sense of emptiness. As he passed by the university, lost in his thoughts, a familiar figure caught his eye.

There, in the soft glow of the streetlights, was Obi-Wan, engaged in what appeared to be a heartfelt hug with Professor Quinlan Voss. Cody stopped in his tracks, a pang of hurt coursing through him. The scene before him seemed to confirm his worst fears - the warning from Rex, the distance Obi-Wan had been maintaining, and now this. His heart sank as he jumped to the conclusion that this must be the date Rex had mentioned.

In that moment, the pieces fell into place in the most painful way. Cody watched as Obi-Wan and Quinlan parted ways, each with a friendly pat on the back and a smile. But to Cody, it appeared as a confirmation of a budding relationship, a visual representation of his unrequited feelings.

Feeling a mix of sadness and resignation, Cody continued to his car, his steps heavy with a sense of defeat. The pain of what he perceived as unreturned affection weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over the fond memories he had of his time in the bookstore with Obi-Wan.

The drive home was a blur, Cody's mind preoccupied with the scene he had just witnessed. The thought of continuing to work and study at the bookstore, in the constant presence of Obi-Wan, seemed unbearable now. How could he keep subjecting himself to this heartache, day after day, knowing that his feelings were one-sided?

By the time he reached home, Cody had made up his mind. He couldn't keep putting himself through this emotional turmoil. The bookstore, once a place of joy and learning, had become a reminder of his unreciprocated feelings. It was time to step back, to distance himself from the source of his pain.

That night, Cody lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the day's events. The thought of not seeing Obi-Wan every day brought a profound sense of loss, yet he knew he needed to protect his heart. He would find another place to study, maybe even look for a different job. It would be hard, but he needed to heal, to move past these feelings that now seemed so misguided.

As sleep finally claimed him, Cody felt a sense of resolve amidst the heartache. He would start tomorrow afresh, a step away from the past and towards a future where he could mend the pieces of his broken heart. The journey ahead would be difficult, but necessary – a path he must walk to find peace and, hopefully, one day, a love that was returned.

*** 

In the quietude of the bookstore on Monday evening, a sense of finality hung in the air as thick as the scent of old books. Cody, weighed down by a heavy heart, pushed open the door, his footsteps echoing softly in the silent space. The familiar sight of Obi-Wan behind the counter, a staple in this refuge of literature, now only amplified the ache in Cody's heart.

Obi-Wan looked up, his features brightening momentarily before registering the seriousness in Cody’s demeanor. “Cody, what's the matter?” he asked, concern etching his voice.

Gathering his resolve, Cody spoke, his voice steady but laced with an underlying current of pain. "Obi-Wan, I... I need to step back from the job here. It's just... things have become too complicated."

The words struck Obi-Wan like a physical blow, surprise and confusion clouding his face. "Complicated? How? Cody, what’s happened?"

Cody hesitated, his gaze drifting away. “It’s just... working here, with you being my boss and all... I think I might have gotten the wrong idea about... us.” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

Obi-Wan’s heart sank, a surge of guilt washing over him. Rex’s warning echoed in his mind, and Cody’s words seemed to confirm his worst fears – that he had inadvertently misused his position of authority.

“I’m so sorry, Cody. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I never intended...” Obi-Wan’s words trailed off, the realization of the situation leaving him at a loss.

Cody shook his head, offering a weak, resigned smile. “It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan. I just need some time to sort things out on my own. This job... it’s meant a lot to me, but right now, I think it’s best if I leave.”

The conversation was brief, the air between them filled with a myriad of unspoken thoughts and emotions. As Cody turned to leave, Obi-Wan felt a deep sense of regret, his own feelings tangled in a web of misunderstanding and perceived improprieties.

“Goodbye, Obi-Wan,” Cody said quietly, his hand on the door.

“Goodbye, Cody,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The door closed softly, leaving Obi-Wan alone among the shelves and books, the pillars of his life that now seemed cold and distant. The store, once a haven of warmth and connection, now felt empty, a stark reminder of what he had lost.

As the night drew in, Obi-Wan stood motionless, lost in a sea of regret and confusion. The pain of Cody’s departure was compounded by the thought that he had, however unintentionally, caused Cody distress. The realization that his own repressed feelings might have contributed to the situation only deepened his sense of guilt.

The bookstore closed for the night, but for Obi-Wan, there was no respite from his thoughts. He walked home under the starlit sky, each step a reminder of the delicate dance of emotions and power dynamics that had led to this moment of separation and heartache. The missed opportunity and the misinterpretation of their relationship weighed heavily on his soul, a poignant testament to the complexity of human connections and the unintended consequences of unvoiced feelings.

**** 

In the days following Cody’s resignation from the bookstore, a palpable change had settled over him, like a shadow dimming his usually bright demeanor. The bustling energy of their family home, usually a source of comfort and liveliness, now seemed to barely register in Cody's world. He moved through the days quietly, his usual enthusiasm dulled, his laughter rare and subdued.

Rex watched his brother with a growing sense of concern and guilt. He had never seen Cody like this — so withdrawn and despondent. The lively debates, the shared jokes, and the easy banter that had always been a staple of their relationship seemed to have evaporated. Cody was physically present, yet emotionally distant, lost in his own thoughts.

Their study sessions at the bookstore, once a routine part of their week, had ceased. The absence of those visits was not just a change in location but a symbol of the emotional rift that had formed. Rex could sense the void the bookstore, and more specifically, Obi-Wan, had left in Cody’s life.

One evening, as they sat in their shared room, the silence was almost tangible. Rex glanced over at Cody, who was staring blankly at a textbook, his notes untouched. The usual fervor for his studies was absent, replaced by a listless disinterest.

"Hey, Cody," Rex started tentatively, breaking the silence. "You know, if you want to talk about anything... I'm here."

Cody looked up, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness. "Thanks, Rex. But what's there to say? I made a fool of myself over Obi-Wan, and now I have to live with it."

Rex frowned, his heart aching for his brother. "You didn't make a fool of yourself. You had feelings, that's normal. And you couldn't have known how things would turn out."

Cody sighed, a forlorn expression on his face. "Maybe, but it doesn’t change how things are now. I just feel so... lost. I miss the bookstore, I miss... him. But going back there, seeing him, it's just too painful."

Rex reached out, placing a hand on Cody's shoulder. "I get it, and I'm sorry you're going through this. But maybe, with time, it'll get easier. You'll find a way to move on."

Cody nodded, but the lack of conviction in his response was evident. The wound was still fresh, the loss too recent for any words of comfort to truly take hold.

The room fell back into silence, each brother lost in his own thoughts. Rex couldn't help but feel responsible for the part he had played in this situation. His intention had been to protect Cody, but in doing so, had he inadvertently deepened his brother's heartache?

As the night wore on, the quiet of the room was a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions within. For Cody, it was a struggle to come to terms with his feelings, to find a way to heal from a love unrequited. For Rex, it was a time of reflection and regret, wondering if there was something more he could have done, some way he could have helped his brother navigate the complexities of his heart. The bond between the brothers remained, a constant in their ever-changing lives, but the shadow of what had transpired at the bookstore lingered, a silent testament to the intricacies of love and loss.

*** 

In the weeks that followed, the change in Obi-Wan was not only apparent to himself but also to those around him. His friends, particularly Plo Koon, Quinlan, and Mace, who had known him through various chapters of his life, could not help but notice the cloud of melancholy that seemed to have settled over him.

They often gathered at their usual haunt, a cozy café where they had spent countless evenings discussing everything from literature to the nuances of life. But recently, these meetings had taken on a different tone, with Obi-Wan's usual animated discussions replaced by a somber quietness.

One evening, as they sat around a table laden with half-finished cups of coffee, Plo Koon broached the subject that had been silently hovering over them. "Obi-Wan, you've been awfully quiet these past few weeks. Is everything alright?"

Obi-Wan offered a strained smile, stirring his coffee absently. "I'm fine, Plo. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess."

Quinlan leaned forward, his eyes studying Obi-Wan closely. "It's about Cody, isn't it? You haven't been the same since he left the bookstore."

Obi-Wan sighed, the façade of normalcy crumbling. "Yes, it's about Cody. I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping a distance. But now, I just feel like I've lost a part of myself. I miss him, and I regret not telling him how I truly feel."

Mace, ever the voice of reason, added, "You might still have a chance, Obi-Wan. Why not reach out to him?"

"It's too late for that," Obi-Wan replied, a note of resignation in his voice. "I think I hurt him more than I realized. And I can't shake off the feeling that I misused my position as his boss."

As the conversation continued, Plo Koon shared his own observations. "I've noticed a change in Cody as well, in my classes. His work isn’t what it used to be. He seems distracted, disconnected. It's clear that whatever happened between you two has affected him deeply."

The revelation only added to Obi-Wan's sense of guilt and regret. The thought of Cody suffering because of him was a bitter pill to swallow.

The evening wound down with words of encouragement from his friends, but Obi-Wan’s spirits remained low. As he walked home, the once-familiar streets seemed to echo his loneliness, each step a reminder of the void that Cody's absence had left in his life.

Meanwhile, Cody was grappling with his own sorrow. The absence of the bookstore in his daily routine felt like a missing limb, an emptiness that nothing else could fill. He tried to immerse himself in his studies, to lose himself in the world of architecture, but the passion that once drove him felt dimmed, overshadowed by his heartache.

As both men navigated their separate lives, the shared memories of their time in the bookstore haunted them, a bittersweet reminder of what had once been and what could have been. The quiet understanding and companionship that had blossomed in the aisles of the bookstore now felt like a distant dream, a chapter closed too soon in the story of their lives. The weight of unspoken words and missed opportunities lingered heavily, a silent testament to the complexities of the heart and the paths not taken.

**** 

After his architecture class, Cody lingered, his focus lost amidst his designs and thoughts. The usual excitement that came with creating and planning had dimmed under the shadow of his feelings for Obi-Wan and the seeming confirmation of their unrequited nature.

Plo Koon, having watched Cody's demeanor change over the past weeks, approached him with a mix of concern and understanding. “Cody, may I have a moment with you?” he asked gently.

Cody looked up, a bit surprised, and nodded. They moved to a quieter corner of the room, away from the bustling energy of departing students.

Plo Koon, with the empathy of a seasoned educator and mentor, spoke softly, “I’ve noticed you’ve been quite down recently. If there’s something on your mind, perhaps I can offer some perspective.”

Cody hesitated, then the words spilled out. “It’s about Obi-Wan,” he confessed, his voice tinged with sadness. “I thought there was something more between us, but then I saw him with Professor Voss. It just confirmed my fears that my feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

Plo Koon's expression shifted to one of gentle clarification. “Cody, what you saw was a misunderstanding. Obi-Wan wasn’t on a date with Professor Voss. He was merely assisting him with some academic work. In fact, Obi-Wan has been quite troubled since you left the bookstore, especially after an encounter with your brother, Rex.”

Cody's brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and surprise evident on his face. “Rex? What does he have to do with this?”

“From what I understand, Rex had a conversation with Obi-Wan, warning him about the potential impropriety of any feelings he might have towards you, given his position as your employer. It seems to have deeply affected Obi-Wan, leading him to distance himself as a precaution,” Plo explained carefully.

This revelation struck Cody with a mix of emotions. The idea that Rex had intervened, that Obi-Wan might have feelings for him after all, but had pulled away because of a sense of propriety, was both shocking and illuminating.

“Thank you, Professor,” Cody said, a new sense of clarity dawning within him. “This changes everything. I need to talk to Obi-Wan, clear the air.”

Cody left the university, his mind racing with this new information. The weight of his heartache was still there, but now it was tempered with a sense of hope, a possibility that maybe, just maybe, things between him and Obi-Wan could be mended.

Meanwhile, Plo Koon watched Cody leave, hoping his intervention would help two people, evidently fond of each other, find their way back from the misunderstandings that had driven them apart. The complexities of the human heart, he knew, were never straightforward, but in this case, he sensed a genuine affection that deserved a chance to be explored and understood.

Cody entered the bookstore with a heart full of mixed emotions - apprehension, hope, and a newfound determination following his conversation with Plo Koon. The familiar bell chimed above the door, a sound that once brought him comfort, now a herald of the crucial conversation ahead.

The bookstore was quiet, save for the soft murmur of a few patrons in the study nook. The shelves stood like silent sentinels, witnesses to the countless interactions and unspoken words between him and Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan himself was not behind the counter, not amidst the aisles where he usually would be, organizing or recommending books to customers.

Driven by a blend of urgency and trepidation, Cody moved towards the back of the store, where a small office and storage room lay. As he approached, he could see Obi-Wan through the half-open door. He was sitting at his desk, his posture one of deep contemplation, a stark contrast to the usual energy and warmth he exuded.

"Obi-Wan?" Cody called out softly, knocking gently on the open door.

Obi-Wan looked up, his expression transforming from solemn introspection to mild surprise. "Cody," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of emotions. "I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything okay?"

Cody stepped inside, closing the door behind him for privacy. "We need to talk," he began, his heart beating faster with each word. "About us, about what happened."

Obi-Wan stood up, a sense of wariness in his posture. "Cody, if this is about your job, you don’t need to explain. I understand why you left."

"It's not just about the job, Obi-Wan," Cody replied, his eyes searching Obi-Wan's. "It's about us, about what I thought was happening between us. I saw you with Professor Voss and thought... But Plo Koon told me the truth, about why you've been distant."

Obi-Wan's expression shifted to one of realization, then regret. "Cody, I... Your brother, Rex, came to me. He was concerned about the nature of our relationship, given our positions. I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or misuse my role as your boss."

Cody took a step closer, his voice firm yet filled with emotion. "But did you ever consider how I felt? Obi-Wan, I have feelings for you. I thought you might feel the same, but then you pulled away, and I didn't understand why."

The confession hung in the air, a vulnerable truth laid bare. Obi-Wan looked at Cody, his own emotions surfacing - a mixture of affection and fear, hope and uncertainty.

"Cody, I... I do have feelings for you," Obi-Wan admitted, the words both liberating and frightening. "But I was scared. Scared of how it might look, scared of ruining what we had."

The room was thick with unspoken words and emotions, years of camaraderie and months of confusion culminating in this moment. Cody stepped closer still, closing the gap between them.

"Obi-Wan, I don't want to live with 'what ifs' and regrets. Can we... Can we try to see where this goes? Just us, no roles, no bookstore. Just Cody and Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan’s eyes reflected a depth of emotion, the walls he had built around his heart beginning to crumble. "Yes, Cody, I’d like that. I want to see where this journey takes us, together."

In that small back office, amidst stacks of books and papers, a new chapter in their lives began, one filled with the promise of understanding and exploring the connection that had always existed between them. They stood there, two souls finally allowing themselves to acknowledge the bond they shared, ready to navigate the uncertain yet hopeful path ahead.

Cody’s heart was pounding, a rhythm loud in his ears, as he took the final step that closed the space between them. The proximity to Obi-Wan, so long desired and yet so carefully avoided, sent a rush of adrenaline through him. The years of friendship, the months of confusion, and the recent heartache all seemed to converge in this single moment.

"Can I kiss you?" Cody's voice was barely above a whisper, yet it resonated in the small room with the weight of all the words unspoken between them.

Obi-Wan's response was a silent nod, his own apprehension and desire evident in the quickening of his breath and the slight parting of his lips. His eyes remained locked with Cody’s, a silent communication passing between them, an acknowledgment of the step they were about to take.

Slowly, almost tentatively, Cody leaned in, the distance between them diminishing until there was nothing left but the shared warmth of their breath. Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, a question asked and answered without words. As the initial hesitancy faded, the kiss deepened, becoming a dance of emotion and connection, a physical manifestation of the feelings they had long harbored.

Obi-Wan’s hands, initially hanging at his sides, slowly rose to rest on Cody’s shoulders, grounding him in the reality of the moment. Cody’s own hands found their way to Obi-Wan’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening their embrace. The world around them faded into a blur, leaving only the two of them, lost in the discovery of each other.

As they eventually parted, breathless and with a newfound sense of closeness, they shared a look of wonder and a smile that spoke volumes. The barriers they had built, the fears they had clung to, seemed insignificant now in the face of this newfound intimacy.

Their eyes met, still close, conveying depths of emotion that words had previously failed to capture. In the wake of the kiss, a vulnerable, yet necessary confession hung unspoken in the air.

Cody, looking into Obi-Wan's eyes, felt a surge of courage. “Obi-Wan, I... I love you,” he said, his voice a blend of certainty and wonder. It was a truth that had been growing in his heart, unacknowledged until this moment.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and joy lighting up his features. “Cody,” he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I love you too. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself.”

The words, so simple yet so profound, filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. It was a revelation, a release of pent-up emotions that had been restrained by fear and doubt.

For a few heartbeats, they simply stood there, basking in the newfound openness and honesty. The confession had bridged the gap between them, turning uncertainty into certainty, confusion into clarity.

Cody reached out, taking Obi-Wan's hands in his, feeling the warmth and the slight tremble that spoke of emotion and vulnerability. “I’ve wanted to say that for so long,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

Obi-Wan squeezed Cody’s hands gently, his eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. “And I’ve wanted to hear it. To say it. Cody, you mean more to me than I ever realized.”

In that small back office, surrounded by books and the quiet hum of the world outside, Cody and Obi-Wan stood at the threshold of a new beginning. The words they had shared were more than just confessions; they were the opening lines of a new chapter in their lives, one filled with the promise of love, understanding, and the joy of being together.

The bookstore, once a simple backdrop to their daily lives, had now become the setting for their most significant moment, a place where their love had finally found its voice. As they slowly let go of each other's hands, the future lay ahead, uncharted but less daunting now that they were facing it together. The journey would be theirs to share, each step forward a testament to the love they had declared in the quiet sanctuary of their shared haven.

**** 

Epilogue 

Three years had woven their threads into the tapestry of Cody and Obi-Wan's lives, each year strengthening the bond that had blossomed in the quiet confines of the bookstore. Their love, once hesitant and unspoken, now thrived in the light of shared experiences, challenges overcome, and joys celebrated together.

On this momentous day, the air was charged with excitement and anticipation. It was Cody's graduation day, marking not only the culmination of his master's degree and specialization in architecture but also a milestone in the journey he and Obi-Wan had embarked on together.

The university auditorium was abuzz with the chatter and laughter of graduates and their families. Rows of seats were filled with proud parents, siblings, and friends, all gathered to celebrate the achievements of their loved ones.

Among the audience sat Obi-Wan, his eyes searching the sea of caps and gowns for the familiar figure of Cody. He felt a surge of pride swell in his chest as he spotted Cody, standing taller than most, his cap slightly askew, a nervous yet excited smile playing on his lips.

As the ceremony progressed, with speeches about futures bright with potential and the world awaiting the talents of the graduates, Obi-Wan's thoughts were solely on Cody. He remembered the young man who had walked into his bookstore years ago, full of dreams and aspirations, and how much he had grown, both in his craft and as a person they had built together.

Finally, the moment arrived. Cody's name was called, and he walked across the stage with a confident stride. Obi-Wan's heart swelled with an indescribable mixture of joy and love. As Cody took the diploma in hand, his achievement was met with applause and cheers, a recognition of the hard work and dedication he had poured into his studies.

Cody’s eyes found Obi-Wan's in the crowd, and in that glance, there was a shared understanding, a silent communication of love and mutual respect. Obi-Wan clapped enthusiastically, his smile broad and genuine, reflecting the immense pride he felt.

After the ceremony, as graduates mingled with their guests, Cody made his way through the crowd to Obi-Wan. They embraced, a moment of personal celebration amidst the public festivity.

"Congratulations, Cody. I’m so proud of you," Obi-Wan said, his voice filled with emotion.

Cody, holding Obi-Wan tightly, replied, "Thank you for being here, for supporting me through all of this. I couldn’t have done it without you."

They stood together, basking in the joy of the moment, surrounded by the bustling energy of the graduates and their families. Their journey had seen them navigate the uncertainties of a new relationship, the challenges of Cody's rigorous academic program, and the everyday complexities of life. Yet, through it all, their love had remained a constant, a source of strength and comfort.

As they left the auditorium, hand in hand, ready to celebrate the day's achievements, they looked forward to the future. It was a future they would build together, filled with dreams, aspirations, and the enduring love that had blossomed in a quaint bookstore, where a simple "hello" had led to a lifetime of shared moments and memories.

As Cody and Obi-Wan left their apartment above the bookstore to head to Cody's family celebration, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of anticipation. The day had already been significant, marking Cody's graduation, but for Cody, there was an additional, momentous event yet to come.

Walking side by side through the familiar streets that had become an integral part of their shared life, they chatted about the day's ceremony and the family gathering ahead. Obi-Wan, attuned to Cody's emotions, noticed an underlying current of nervous energy in him.

"You seem a bit on edge, Cody. Excited about tonight?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to gauge the cause of Cody's subtle restlessness.

Cody smiled, masking his inner turmoil with practiced ease. "Yeah, just excited, and a bit overwhelmed with everything, I guess," he replied, his mind racing with the plan he had been carefully crafting for weeks.

The celebration with Cody's family was a warm, boisterous affair, filled with laughter, congratulations, and stories shared amongst family and friends. Throughout the evening, Cody was the center of attention, yet his thoughts kept drifting to the plan he had for later that night, back at the bookstore.

Finally, as the evening wound down and they made their way back to their apartment, Cody’s heart began to race with anticipation. This was it, the moment he had been preparing for. The bookstore was quiet, its familiar shelves and aisles bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights.

"Obi-Wan, can we go inside the bookstore for a moment? I want to show you something," Cody said, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach.

Curious, Obi-Wan followed Cody into the bookstore. The space that had been the starting point of their relationship, where countless conversations and quiet moments had unfolded, now held an air of quiet expectancy.

Cody led Obi-Wan to their favorite spot, a cozy nook surrounded by shelves of books. He took a deep breath, turning to face Obi-Wan. In the soft light of the bookstore, his eyes were earnest and filled with emotion.

"Obi-Wan, these past three years with you have been the best of my life. You've made me happier than I ever thought possible," Cody began, his voice tinged with the depth of his feelings. "You've been my partner, my confidant, my best friend. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Kneeling down, Cody reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring box. He opened it to reveal a simple, elegant ring. "Obi-Wan, will you marry me?"

Obi-Wan, taken aback by the suddenness of the proposal, was momentarily speechless. Joy, surprise, and love flooded through him as he looked at Cody, kneeling before him in the heart of the place where their journey had begun.

"Yes, Cody," Obi-Wan finally said, his voice filled with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

As they embraced, the bookstore around them seemed to echo with the significance of the moment. It was more than just a proposal; it was a culmination of all they had shared and a promise of all the years to come. The books, silent witnesses to their love story, now bore testament to the beginning of a new chapter in their lives together, one filled with the promise of shared dreams and a future hand in hand.

In the warmth of their embrace, amidst the rows of books that had silently witnessed the evolution of their relationship, Cody and Obi-Wan shared a moment of pure joy and connection. It was a perfect culmination of their journey thus far and a beautiful beginning to their shared future.

As they pulled apart slightly, looking into each other's eyes, Cody’s thoughts briefly wandered to his brother, Rex. There had been a time of misunderstanding, where Rex's well-intentioned intervention had caused a rift between them. But with everything out in the open, Cody had come to understand and forgive Rex's actions. He knew his brother had acted out of love and concern, albeit misguidedly. The reconciliation with Rex had brought an added sense of peace and completeness to this moment.

"Obi-Wan," Cody said softly, a contented smile on his face, "you know, with everything that's happened – the misunderstandings, the reunion, and now this – it's like we're living in a romance novel."

Obi-Wan chuckled, the sound mingling with the quiet ambiance of the bookstore. "I couldn't have written a better story myself," he replied, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "And the best part is, it's our story."

They shared a gentle, affirming kiss, sealing their commitment to each other. The bookstore, once just a setting for their burgeoning relationship, had now become a sacred space, a testament to their love and the journey they had shared.

As they left the bookstore hand in hand, ready to step into the next chapter of their lives together, the world outside seemed brighter, filled with endless possibilities. Their story, indeed, was like something out of a romance novel – a tale of love found, lost, and reclaimed, set against the backdrop of a quaint bookstore that had seen them grow as individuals and as a couple.

In the quiet closing of the bookstore door behind them, there was a sense of completeness, a narrative arc fulfilled. Yet, it was also a beginning, the start of a new chapter in their lives, one filled with the promise of shared tomorrows, laughter, challenges, and love – a romance novel come to life, with its happiest ending yet to be written.

Would love to hear your thoughts and feelings about Cody and Obi-Wan's story!

[aspenforest732]

Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 10: Whispering Voices Strike a Spark

tw: bullying, child abuse, ableism, flashback, body memories, abuse victim signs, ED behavior, body policing, food rationing, light verbal abuse

'text' JSL Text thoughts

---

Akira groaned as they saw the matchups. No fucking way am I losing to Yaoyorozu. I’ll just have to throw the quarter-final.

Shinso charged into the center, clearly counting on Midoriya not having full control of his quirk. Akira watched with pride as he tried to goad Midoriya into responding but never quite pulled out their trump card.

“Who do you think will win?” Ashido asked excitedly from the row above.

‘Midoriya, 100%,’ Akira signed with Koda interpreting.

Ashido scowled, “Aw, you’re no fun. Why not root for your friend?”

Mad Banquet chuckled, and Tokoyami said, “We are. Future underground heroes don’t want to advance too far into the brackets, though. The public being overly familiar with our quirks will only be a detriment.”

Akira nodded, adding ‘Getting to the brackets is to show we have physical prowess outside our quirks. Animal Whisper and I will be the only ones in our group who want to get past the first round.’ At Tokoyami and Koda’s confused looks, Akira darkened. ‘It’s Rich Miss. I’m not losing to that prick.’

Midoriya bodily tossed Shinso off the platform, the strange red lines glowing under his skin but not leaving any immediately apparent broken bones. Huh, hopefully he’s starting to get a grip on it.

Shoto’s complete over display of power left Akira confused as the crowd wasn’t sure whether to cheer or be disappointed at the quick victory. Shoto was the definition of calm and collected in fights, and Sero wasn’t the type to provoke him.

Akira winced as Kaminari stepped onto the stage, electricity already arcing around him in excitement. Koda’s rocky skin would act as protection against Kaminari’s attacks, but a highly concentrated shock might get through. As the pair traded blows back and forth, Kaminari tried to focus his energy but most of it still spread out too much to be effective against such a grounded opponent. Akira noticed Midoriya excitedly writing in his notebook as he mumbled about Kaminari’s new level of control and potential as a human taser. Koda ended the match by continually pushing the smaller kid back, eventually forcing him to use their million-volt technique, which momentarily stunned Koda but ultimately let him walk Kaminari off the stage.

Akira reveled at Hatsume’s presentation, thoroughly enjoying both Ida’s growing frustration and the girl’s ideas. Those boots would help with jump distance over rooftops. I probably wouldn’t have to warp or use my capture weapon to get to higher buildings with those. They could probably even include more support for overusing my quirk with how flexible her uses seem. Akira made a note in their own notebook to visit Hatsume in her classroom to see about costume and mobility improvements.

Mina easily beat Aoyama, dodging his rays with figure skating-like maneuvers, although Akira winced at his damaged support belt. ‘Hopefully there’s someone available to fix that for him, I’ve never seen him without it.’

With that, Akira headed for the tunnels, hanging an eager smile on their face that didn’t quite reach their eyes as they stepped out with their name. Yaoyorozu met their smile with a condescending one, stance relaxed even as the match started. Darting forward, Akira punched her in the stomach, letting her hastily formed shield drop into a clone as they warped behind and roundhouse kicked the girl’s head, sending her stumbling forwards.

As Yaoyorozu whipped around, Akira danced back, watching for the sparkles of Creation. They grabbed her wrist and pulled as they warped, legs now wrapped around Yaoyorozu’s neck as they both hit the ground, Akira spinning to land on her back and pin her arms. In moments, Yaoyorozu yielded, and Akira backed off, not offering a hand but bowing shallowly as they left the arena.

Instead of going to the stands, Akira grabbed a couple protein bars and made their way to the other side’s break room and knocked.

Cracking the door, Ashido brightened, “Oh! Come in, did you want to talk about something or just chill? I’ve got some protein bars if you want.”

Akira smiled but shook their head, holding up their own. They wrote in their notebook, “I came to talk about our match. I’m not going to try for the semifinals because I don’t want the exposure.”

Ashido pouted as she sipped boba tea. “Why advance from the first round, then?”

Akira scowled. “Because Yaoyorozu is an ableist prick, and I wasn’t about to give her more ammo. I came to ask if there’s a specific style or unusual way to use your acid that you want to showcase. The class powerhouses will probably take the podium, but we can still put on a good show.”

Ashido grinned and started outlining her ideas, Akira asking a few questions but otherwise letting her drive the meeting. Akira kept an eye on Tokoyami’s match with Kirishima, but they’d already worked out showcasing the former’s abilities in case any of their training group got matched up.

As they sipped on a protein drink in the stands, Akira watched Uraraka and Bakugo’s fight in awe. Respect and alertness sparked in Bakugo’s eyes as shapes kept floating a little too long in the cloud. What is she pulling? Akira wondered as Bakugo kept her at a distance, tearing apart the stage as the cameras tried to keep focus on the shadows within the cloud of dust. With so little to see on stage, Akira started following the floating debris up, grinning as they noticed the field Uraraka was setting up. Glancing at Tokoyami, they nudged him and gestured up, happy to see a similar shocked expression.

Even as the crowd booed and Aizawa rebuked them, Bakugo grew more nervous, the tension in his shoulders increasing with every blast. Uraraka finally stopped her assault, trembling slightly as she stood upright and thanked Bakugo for keeping his guard up. Akira grinned as Uraraka let the meteor shower rain down with “I’m going to win!”

While most of the cameras were focused on the meteor shower or Uraraka running up, Akira watched as Bakugo started to brace his arm. No… he’s never made an explosion that big without his gauntlets, right? Akira stared in wonder as the force of the blast rippled out, obliterating most of the debris above Bakugo, showering the field and roof with the rest, and catapulting Uraraka back to the edge of the stage. The crowds were blown into their seats from the air pressure, and a hush fell over the crowd as the smoke cleared on the two opponents.

Both were clearly exhausted by the efforts, but Bakugo grinned as Uraraka started gearing up for another attack, both charging only for the girl to collapse after a few steps. Bakugo immediately pulled up, concern flickering over his face even as she crawled forward and he dropped into a hesitant stance. Her body fully gave out a meter away though, and as Midnight checked on her, Bakugo was declared the victor. Tsu and Ida slipped out of the stands to check on her as med bots wheeled Uraraka away.

Midoriya’s fight with Shoto went shockingly horrible with the power Akira knew him to be capable of. It almost seemed like instead of trying to win, he was trying to get Shoto to do something. Remembering the overheard conversation earlier, Akira blanched and glared at Midoriya.

“I don’t understand the strategy here,” Tokoyami muttered.

‘It’s not a strategy,’ Akira signed derisively. ‘He’s trying to force Peppermint to use his left side. That kid’s been through a lot, Broccoli shouldn’t be toying with him like this. Especially with how many times he’s breaking bones again. He’s going to regret that next time the weather sours.’

The match continued for a few long minutes, waves of ice barely missing some of the crowd until the two were not even a meter from each other and a blast of heat surged through the stands. Squinting, Akira could barely see with the raging inferno that must be coming from Shoto. Moments later, Endeavor loudly started congratulating his son on stopping his rebellious phase, and Akira wanted nothing more in the moment than to strangle the man. Tokoyami put a hand on their arm, Dark Shadow offering support from the shadow of his sleeve as Akira nodded stiffly at the gesture.

As the two geared up, Shoto activating both sides and Midoriya surging forward, Akira barely made out structures sprouting between the two before they exploded outward, showering the stands with debris and blowing everyone back as a large plume of smoke erupted from the stadium and obscured the opponents before revealing Midoriya slumped against the far wall. The crowd erupted in cheers as he was carried off by the med bots and Uraraka quickly left the stands. The rest of Midoriya’s clique soon followed as there was a break to reset the stage.

‘I’m going to talk to Shoto,’ Akira signed distractedly. The rest of Mad Banquet nodded, opting to stay and wait for the next match. After a moment, though, Akira slowed as a soft pair of footsteps caught up to them. ‘Do you need something?’

Shinso frowned, ‘He’s the one you were talking about, right? I want to go with you.’

Akira paused, turning to face him. ‘I don’t have proof right now, and I don’t know if he’ll even want to talk with me. I’m not going to stop you, but he might feel cornered with two approaching him.’

Shinso just shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets after signing, ‘If nothing else, I can interpret for you.’

As they rounded on the break room, Akira almost ran into a chest of flames, jumping back at the heat. They squinted, barely concealing their hatred as they signed, ‘What are you doing back here? This is for students and faculty only.’

“Hmph I was just speaking with Shoto, not that it’s any of your business,” he sneered, towering over them. “Now, out of my way.”

“You’re really not supposed to be back here,” Shinso drawled, expression a touch more neutral. “You should leave before you get kicked out.” Akira pulled their phone just far enough out of their pocket to make sure they selected the right contact before pinging their location.

Endeavor’s flames flared as he stepped towards Shinso, “Insolent boy, I am the number two hero and will go where I please.”

Shinso’s eyes briefly flashed with fear as Akira swiftly put themself between the two, biting back memories of fire raging across their skin. ‘Like we said, you’re not supposed to be here. Please leave. Eraser will be making his rounds soon, and he wouldn’t like you back here.’

Endeavor scoffed but pushed past after leveling them with another glare. A tense moment later, Akira sunk to the floor, back against the wall as they canceled the alert. From down the hall, they distantly heard Aizawa’s voice with a rarely heard anger instead of the usual frustration or monotone he used with the class.

“Do you have the ball Inui gave you?” Shinso signed as he asked. Akira shook their head, gesturing to the lack of storage in their uniform. “Can I do anything to help?” he continued softly.

Akira just shook their head, gesturing to the floor and focusing on their breath and senses as their heart tried to hammer out of their chest. After a moment of thrumming their fingers while their arms itched, Akira hesitantly held out their hands, which Shinso immediately took, gently rubbing circles. As they started to calm down, Akira tensed at another set of footsteps approaching, only to relax as they recognized their teacher’s “I want you to hear me coming” gait.

Taking a deep breath, they stood and offered a hand to Shinso as a mask of neutrality settled on their face. Shinso gave them a worried, searching look before accepting the hand as Aizawa walked around the corner.

“Are you two alright? I saw your ping,” Aizawa said gruffly. Shinso looked confused, about to pull out his phone when Akira showed him theirs.

‘Sorry, Endeavor was being difficult, and we knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.’

Shinso snorted awkwardly, “That’s one way to put it. He tried to threaten us when we pointed out he shouldn’t be back here.” Shinso added with a bit more venom, “And he already spoke with Shoto.”

Aizawa looked over them again for injuries before raising an eyebrow. “I’ll make sure that’s noted. Why is him speaking with his son more of a problem?”

Shinso looked to Akira, who just crossed their arms. He may have followed through faster than they would’ve thought, but Akira wasn’t about to trust Aizawa with this. At least not yet.

Eyes narrowing at the silent refusal, Aizawa sighed, “The next round is about to start. You two head back to the stands, and I’ll check on Todoroki.”

Koda’s fight with Ida lasted longer than any of Mad Banquet was expecting, Koda’s improving hand-to-hand and use of birds as distractions earning him the precious seconds he needed to dodge. Ultimately, Ida still beat him with Recipro Burst, but from the crowd’s murmurs, Koda would definitely be getting a couple offers. Akira grinned and gave him a thumbs up as they passed in the hall.

As Akira and Mina walked up to the stage, Akira attuned to the song Mina was humming, matching their steps to hers as they found their rhythm. When the match started, Mina opened with an arching slide to her right as Akira matched their steps to the staccato rhythm they’d talked about. Just as Mina aimed an acid ball, Akira warped from an acid patch to behind her, going to punch her shoulder only to get met with an acid-covered fist.

Dancing back, Akira matched her steps again, this time charging forward first, weaving around the puddles Mina had been dropping until the last second. They warped from one to the far side of the field, Mina rapidly firing off a spread of smaller acid balls as Akira warped between puddles and let each clone dispel before warping again. As they closed in on Mina, Akira shifted to the left, and with a nod, Mina let acid pour into her hands before tackling Akira as they warped, hurling the acid ball in the opposite direction. It connected with Akira’s side as they spun to face Mina, knocking them off the stage. The two shook hands, Akira flicking some acid onto the girl as the two laughed and separated.

“Hey, Reaper!” Bakugo stalked up to them, face stormy. “The hell was that? You just threw the match!”

Akira cocked their head. ‘I told you during training. My goal was never to reach the finals; hell, I wouldn’t have gone past the first round if I hadn’t been paired with Rich Miss. Pink Queen and I just coordinated so she could show off an unusual style she’s been working on. It wouldn’t have been effective in the first two rounds, and you obviously aren’t a good matchup for her, so I was happy to help.’

“Well, next sparring session I want a match.” Akira’s eyebrows shot up. “You could’ve easily pulled the same shit you did with that prick and won, so I expect you to go all out.”

After a moment, Akira nodded. Bakugo was more perceptive than they originally though he was, but the loud blonde had been surprising them since he first asked Akira to get lunch with his group. He did seem to be mellowing out marginally… ‘Hey,’ Akira signed, tapping on the blonde’s shoulder as he turned. ‘Don’t let that get to your head, okay? I don’t want to know what they’ll do if you try to refuse the podium.’

Grabbing their pack from the break room, Akira chugged the last of their protein drinks and grabbed a jelly pouch. They weren’t in trouble yet, but it took a bit for the adrenaline to die off and their quirk to slow down. As the semifinals wrapped up with Bakugo and Shoto taking the top two spots, as expected, Akira’s thoughts drifted back to Aizawa. What is his baseline? It doesn’t seem like he considers the weight I have now as a buffer even though it’s above starvation mode.

Akira glared at Midoriya as he tried to egg on Shoto, who was clearly still conflicted. As Bakugo made an impressive spiral of smoke in the air, Akira gasped at Shoto’s left side briefly lighting up before winking out. Oh, kid… Akira winced as Shoto was tossed like a ragdoll by the blast, his glazed-over and unseeing eyes having little to do with the blast.

Kirishima and Kaminari stood up with Shinso and Akira, acknowledging each other with a nod before quickly making their way to Recovery Girl. As they reached the nurse’s secondary office, Akira noticed Inui coming out with an angry and confused Bakugo. Kirishima and Kaminari hesitantly peeled off to wait for them.

Inside, Shoto was awake but unseeing. ‘I think I know what’s going on, can I assist?’

Recovery Girl nodded, quietly telling the pair to be gentle.

‘Hey Peppermint, can you hear Blank?’ Akira asked, Shinso interpreting.

A slight nod.

‘That’s great. Do you know where you are?’

‘Nurse.’ After a moment, he grimaced, seeming unsure. ‘House.’

Akira and Shinso blinked at each other, neither aware he’d been learning. ‘You are at Nurse’s office. He’s nowhere near you right now, you’re safe. Right now, it’s just you, me, Blank, and Nurse in her office. You’re on one of the medical beds, and it smells like disinfectant in here. Can you describe what the bed feels like?’

Shoto slowly started to look more aware as he fingerspelled. ‘Coarse, firm, narrow, cold.’

‘You’re cold?’ Recovery Girl brought a few more blankets as Shinso interpreted. ‘Nurse brought some blankets. Would you like them? They look a bit softer than what’s currently on the bed.’

They spent the next fifteen minutes coaxing him out of the flashback. At some point, Inui stepped in, and they had to reassure Shoto over again that the heavy footfalls weren’t his father. He still seemed a little dazed but nodded when Inui asked if Shoto would be able to attend the presentation ceremony.

When only Bakugo and Mina were next to the podium to be raised, Akira turned to Cementoss. ‘Is Engine Calf alright? I didn’t see him at Nurse’s office.’

“He had a family emergency, unfortunately.”

Bakugo was still seething but seemed significantly calmer then when he’d stormed out of Recovery Girl’s office with Inui. I wonder if he also continued therapy. That would also explain some of his mellowing out, although I’d imagine Kirishima and Kaminari helped, too.

Shinso and Akira stuck by Shoto’s side, Tokoyami and Koda giving them some distance after reassurances they were there for support. The latter two and Aizawa ran interference when Endeavor tried to approach Shoto on the way to the bus while Shinso and Akira kept the kid’s focus on getting back. By the time they reached U.A., Shoto was back to his reserved, quiet self instead of the haunted look he’d been sporting.

‘Thank you,’ he signed hesitantly as they started to unload.

Akira smiled sadly back. ‘Let us know if you want help getting you and whoever else away. I know some people, and I know Blank’s on board, too.’

Back in the classroom, Aizawa announced they’d have the next two days of school off after which they’d be given their internship offers. Akira hung back, waiting for the others to disperse and Shinso to give them space as they approached Aizawa.

“Can I help you with something, Mori?”

Akira took a breath, fiddling with their backpack straps before signing, ‘I’m down to the last jelly pouch after the festival, and you said to tell you when I was out.’ Aizawa raised an eyebrow, and Akira quickly backtracked. ‘Sorry, I assumed it was you. Never mind, it’s fine.’

“Kid-”

‘Really, I should probably get going,’ Akira spun on their heel to leave.

“Mori, it was me. Next time, I expect you to tell me sooner, so you never run on empty.” Aizawa motioned for them to follow him as they made their way to the teacher’s lounge. Striding past a few teachers Akira recognized and a blonde man with All Might-like hair strands, Aizawa brought them to a box marked with his name and opened it to reveal several rows of jelly pouches organized by flavor. “Take as many as you want; Nezu keeps it well-stocked.”

Midnight gasped from behind them. “Shouta? Sharing his jelly pouches? Who are you and what have you done with that grouch?”

Akira winced, retracting a hand from reaching towards the mango flavor. Aizawa fixed her with a glare while putting several in Akira’s hands. “Mind your own business, Nemuri.” He turned to Akira, signing, ‘She’s just teasing, don’t mind her.’

After a moment, Akira continued, grabbing ten pouches. “Is that it, kid?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow. He sighed at their nod, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The point is for you to eat these as needed, not to ration them out. Here,” Aizawa started grabbing handfuls of the flavors they’d selected and handing them to Akira, who was forced to put them in their backpack or let them keep piling in their arms. “If you run out of a flavor you’re in the mood for or are down to five pouches, tell me or any nearby teacher if I’m unavailable.”

Akira hesitantly nodded, signing a quick thanks. As they left the teacher’s lounge, Shinso met back up with them. ‘I just need to grab my duffle bag, you don’t have to wait for me,’ Akira signed as they started down the hallway to the locker rooms.

Aizawa frowned, “Why do you need your duffle? Your things are safe here.”

Akira briefly froze before forcing themself to relax. ‘I left some things in it that I’ll need over the next couple days.’

Aizawa narrowed his eyes but allowed Shinso to pull him along to the gate. That bullet dodged, Akira quickly gathered their things, double-checking that nothing was missing before starting the long walk to the train station.

---

last chapter and this one’s title are actually lyrics to We Are Determined from Amazing Grace the Musical. I swear when I was writing the chapters from here on out I thought the lyrics fit. They do not most of the time, but I can't be bothered to find better chapter titles.

Flashbacks are rough, and they’re not always the full-sensory flashbacks like you see in media. In this one, I pictured Shoto having a primarily touch- and sight-based flashback, so while things weren’t lining up, he was having trouble convincing himself that he wasn’t back in that moment.

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[cyclicalaberration]

Naught But A Fool In The Body Of A God

(Gore + existentialism warning) A foolish gamers... character study? I think?

Totems were funny things. Made of gold and emerald, looking both very much and not at all like their creator. You could go your entire life never seeing one of them. It is a rare person who needs to to face a powerful and dangerous raid, or to track down a mansion, all of which are filled to the brim with Illagers, just to get lucky and catch an Evoker off guard.

Totems are particular about who they save, seeming to despise their own holders. Evokers almost always held one, but they couldn’t seem to use them.

They seem almost heretical, as though Death herself is only tolerating their presence. She does not seem the type to let a method of escape slide. Though, she is simply a collector, and totems can only be used once. Perhaps she created them, to give some sense of hope as she waited at the finish line, merely extending the bridge into the void.

That is not the case, however. The creator was a young god then, full of spite and bloodlust. He carved them in his image, gave them to those who followed him through lava and storms, across oceans and land. He was not a god of death but a god of dying, a conglomerate of souls of those slaughtered in his name. He is of much the same stock as gods of war and blood, power growing from violence and destruction.

He was older, though. Older than the concept of war. War implies thought behind destruction, implies plans. Dying is a natural aspect of life. Everyone is dying, ever so slowly. He was an intermediary, an active force on the field of Death, who, for all those who fear her, is quite passive.

You, most likely, do not fear death. You cannot, for you do not know what awaits you in her loving embrace. You fear dying. Your last breath leaving your body, laying still, moving for the very last time, thinking your very last thought. You fear the unknown and the end, the change. You do not know what comes after death and that strikes fear into your heart. You do not know what it is like to take your last breath, and that haunts you.

This young god, so new and so primordial, hunted. If he stopped moving, stopped hunting, stopped killing, he’d fade away and die. He sent his followers to hunt, to pillage, his need for souls insatiable. They hunted, and they warped, skin greying and eyes darkening. They began to shift from human to something else, something other. Infused with his power, they hunted, leading groups to hunt down more sacrifices to their god.

He grew in power, grew in strength. Death herself watched, for he was just like his creations. He was a totem, serving a greater power. He was sculpted from gold, inlaid with emerald eyes, given the wings of all her favored creatures, and he engraved himself with stories of his past, his triumphs, his losses, things he wanted to hold close to him forever.

--

Blood runs through the canals of those engravings, a trident plunging into the chest of the next breathing mortal, and the god, whose name has been long since lost, laughs. Another one came for him, not learning the lesson of its companion, and a sword is driven through their heart, buried up to the hilt, freed moments later by the golden flames eating at its nervous system, reduced to ash in seconds. He brushes them away as one would brush away eraser shavings.

Bodies lay strewn across the field when he’s finished, a one-sided war, headed by a mortal he’s already forgotten, over some sin he no longer cares to remember.

A chuckle rings out from behind him, and he whirls, sword drawn. “That’s quite the display.”

They were half-buried in a fog, extremities concealed in the mist that he knows for a fact wasn’t there. Their eyes glow with hunger, with spite, with a thousand emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle. It hurts to look them in the eyes too long.

“A lot of flair for some bodies nobody will even see. Nobody but me, of course.”

“What can I say, I’m an artist.”

“Or a zealot.”

“What’s the difference? You won’t have the breath to tell anyone.” He swings his sword, runes glowing. Whoever they are, they will soon be ash, soaked by their own fog, as fire eats them from the inside out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. My father wouldn’t be happy, he’s not nearly as forgiving as me.” He whirls again, seeing white eyes and a ruffled shirt, mere feet from his face, leaning back against nothing. He gets the feeling that they’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he chokes, breaking his gaze away from swirling, dancing white, blank but never empty.

“How-”

“Foolish, that’s what you are. A fool.” The mortal- No, they are not mortal. No mortal stares a god in the eyes and calls him a fool. “Why do you fight?”

--

His companion smirks at him. He grins right back, rows of teeth glinting in the light of the enchanted blades. Centuries of fighting together made them a well practiced dance, a machine of blood and souls. Three arrows pierce the hearts of the guards, falling wordlessly from their towers. That’s all the warning they get. Before the night is out, blood flows so thick it sits for years, soaking the wood and drowning the now-ashen grass.

His companion’s footsteps wither and rot the wood on which they stand, warping it beyond recognition. They work their way to the center of the fortress, people charging to their deaths, impaled, sometimes, by naught but the thorny whips of their enchanted armor.

The stone crumbles beneath their feet, and the god would feel the effects, if he were not himself a statue, life breathed into him by the very goddess who steals it, made of pure gold, which doesn’t tarnish, doesn’t decay. Tapestries crumble to dust as his companion runs their hand along them. The god tosses a mortal to the side, its body lying crumpled, its soul buzzing as he adds it to his own. Another voice layered over his own, another voice to buzz with every angry word.

His companion grips a guard by their chin and laughs as it crumbles to dust beneath their hands.

The general of the army falls, and they dance in the blood of their enemies, spin in the blood of their victims. The hem of the smaller god’s dress sprays droplets of blood as they twirl, the god of dying laughing as his friend grabs his hands, dancing in victory, in elation, in completion. They propel themself into the air and spin him. They move as a unit, as they did in the heat of battle.

Later, the god will sit, stare at his companion, and say “You once asked me why I fight.” That day is not today. Today they will both fight, dance in the blood of their enemies, and move on, the fortress a shell of its former self, growing over with vines, breaking apart.

--

Two gods, a god of dying and a god of withering and ash, rest in a small village on the bank of a river. The withering god rests against a tree, long ago struck with lightning, telling a story to the village children, as the god of dying laughs, interrupting them with his own commentary on just how comically wrong they’re telling it.

It has been decades since they drew first blood, traveling for weeks at a time, collecting, remembering, rather than destroying. Fights found them, of course, mobs never learn, but fewer mortals have fallen to their stained hands in the past century than in their best year previous.

They still delight in the occasional bloodbath, if the chance arises, but as the world shifts towards calm, they drift away from senseless slaughter and towards traveling.

They pass by cities, or the ruins of what once were, and they ask themselves, “Was that our doing?” and they do not know, hundreds of civilizations having fallen to their blades, their arrows, and their fire.

But they sit, ancient, immortal warriors, telling stories to children, their hands still caked in more blood than these children will ever see.

Later, the god of dying will say to his companion: “I fight because destruction is control. Nothing exists that I cannot destroy, nothing exists that I cannot control,” but that day is not today. Today they laugh at incorrect accounts of tales they experienced, true histories lost, new memories formed. Today the god of withering and ash closes their eyes, and the god of dying makes the skies dance with light for the descendants of people they long-ago killed.

Later they will reflect. Today they will reminisce.

--

Two gods part ways, on a mission from Death. They will meet again, but it will not be the same. The god of dying, of storms, and of the ocean and all that that entails smiles down on his old friend, their white eyes glowing with hundreds of memories.

“I’ll see you soon, Old Pal.”

“See you soon.” They turn down different roads, one a path of explosions, of wars, of power-grabs and monarchies, and one down a path of self-reflection.

Their paths take them to the same destination: Redemption. Neither take the same road there, and neither path is straight, but it never is. And redemption is a place not easily found, but easily lost, easy to slip back into old ways for moments at a time, on a godly timescale.

The god of dying takes the name Foolish, a reminder of his past. He arrives in a strange land, full of holes and trauma and death. The place reeks of hubris. It makes him sick. It makes him hungry. The hunger curls in his stomach and the stench gives him a sickening headache, so he runs. Runs far away, and he builds.

Builds for control, builds for stability. Builds are his one constant, gigantic pyramids and sculptures and he can’t stop. His temple expands. A man, a man he has seen, a man who feels like too much and too little, too much in one body, a vacuum and a black hole, asks him for a kingdom. Simple enough. A child approaches him, telling him to build a mansion, a mansion larger than a country, for him, his husband and their son. He will be paid. He is not paid nearly enough.

--

A demon, a cat, and a not-quite-human man encroach on his summer home. They reek of vines and death, and Foolish loses his composure. They doubt his power. They threaten his home and he smiles with too many teeth and grows, grows to his full size. His eyes glow. They taunt him, threaten him.

“I’m a peaceful man, Ponk. But if I must defend myself, I can.”

“Defend yourself against this, then, Foolish.” Ponk hurls a trident at him, glancing off him, a mortal not strong enough to pierce his skin. He’s a fool, more a fool than the man who took it as his name. That is his weapon, carved of prismarine and ivory, more his domain than any other. For a moment, the god tastes blood.

“I may be a totem of undying, but in the past, I have been a totem of death.” He calls power to his fingertips, lightning in his eyes. “It’s not just one thing, Ponk. It's never just one thing. Have you ever tasted lightning? Smelt the ozone in the air, seen it dance across your skin before you black out from the pain?”

“Do you see where we are, Foolish?” In Ponk’s mind, the name is fitting. He has never seen a storm called from nothing before. Never seen a storm called at all, only harnessed. He disbelieves.

“It does not matter. A sunny day does not matter.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Let me show you.” He smiles, rows of teeth bloodied with the lives of thousands, millions of mortal souls. His voice layers, thousands of voices, screaming to be heard. The crack of lighting lands mere feet from the three. “Now begone from this place, and I don’t ever want to see you here again, am I clear?”

The vines must be resolved. The egg continues to hunger, but he has hope, hope that there is a piece of mortal soul left in them, a piece of morality that wishes to be free. He does not give up hope.

--

The gods’ paths cross again in a city, the totem and the king. A city drowning in red, twisting, oozing vines, calling out for blood. They spend hours weeding, burning red vines and laughing. His friend no longer flies, his friend hides their once-beautiful eyes, but they’re the same. They do not remember him, but they are the same.

“Foolish, have I ever shown you my eyes?” Of course they have, and he says as much. “I’m going to show you again, just in case.” Their eyes dance, with confusion and worries, and a deep-seated fear of rejection.

“Yeah, that’s the Eret I’m thinking of! The one with white eyes, the one with the netherite armor!” Foolish looks concerned, but this is nothing that they can’t fix. They’ve fought armies together, a few missing memories aren’t going to make him give up on them.

They attend a banquet. They dance for the first time in centuries, spinning in circles to the music played by that infernal catmaid. They attend a banquet and it goes south, hard, as all parties attended by gods do. It goes south and he makes use of his totem nature, wrapping around their heart, taking their place. They will not die to the monstrous egg before they get to dance together, and reminisce.

Soon, the god will say to his old friend, that he builds to replace. He builds to counteract the destruction he caused, and it will not replace the lives lost, but it adds something new, something beautiful to this harsh reality, but that is not the truth. The truth is, he creates for the same reason he destroyed.

--

Soon a mortal man in a cardboard mask will tell him that he let him die. Soon, he will be taunted by a mortal man, full of hubris, who says that his builds mean nothing, are nothing, bring nothing to the world, and a part of him will think the mortal man is right. A part of him whispers that he is selfish. That his ways are wrong. That he must pick up the sword once again, bleed mortals for their souls.

He will shove that part deep inside, and he will remind the man that no good comes of blood. He will tell the man that he too once believed that death was the answer, death would give control, but he will tell the man that he was wrong, and that he will be too.

You either die a monster, vengeful and wicked, or you grow. You adapt, you create, you reconcile. Some may never forgive, but many will. Mortals only get one lifetime, he must make the most of it.

He will not say that though. He will sit up against the side of his sphynx and sew hundreds of thousands of tiny dolls, breathing life into each one, giving each one a small hard hat and a job, so he will never be alone. He will build, children safe in the ender cradle, and he will give himself time to think. He will stop moving, for one moment, and he will not die. He may be the god of the seas, but he is not a shark. He keeps moving, a perpetual motion machine, purely out of fear of what his own thoughts bring, and he truly lives up to the name given to him so long ago. Foolish. For he is naught but a fool in the body of a god.

[tevanavernus]

Saudade - Chapter 1.

||Prologue||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 6.2k

Helmut led them deeper into the garage where his personal collection was stored. Flicking the lights on, he was met with a couple of rows of his favourite antique cars. Just like he left them years ago. It wasn't all of his collection, the remaining couple of dozen were hidden away in other parts of the world. He made a mental note to thank to whoever kept the place cleaned and the cars taken care of. From an initial glance, all of them were spotless, just how he liked them.

"So our first move is grand theft auto?" Sam asked, crossing his arms the moment the light came on.

"These are mine. Collected by the family over the generations." Helmut explained as he pulled open the lid of the trunk. Some of the cars dated back all the way to pre-WW2. He could still remember his father showing him the collection when he was a young man himself. It was a tradition of a sort, in their family. A tradition that he carried on with Nic and was planning to do with Carl once he was older. Years down the line, the same cars, amongst others, were going to be split and passed down equally between them. Now, they would forever be in his collection. He supposed the traditions along with the family name would end with him.

Helmut glanced down at the trunk of the 1946 Packard Clipper that was filled with weapons, knives, and ammunition. He scanned through them all, considering what to take. Some of it will be useful, especially the ones that he could conceal easily. Hearing the doors of other cars being opened, he tilted his head towards Sam and James but refrained from making a comment. Sam chuckled from somewhere behind Helmut, making him turn to him. Sam pulled back from the 1934 Packard Twelve Series 1106 that he was checking out.

"Hey Zemo," He called out, grinning at whatever he was holding in his hand. "Have been secretly a fan-boy all along and were pissed we didn't invite you to hang out?"

"May I?" Helmut asked as he extended his hand. He had a suspicion of what it was already but wanted to see it himself.

"You should keep it. Really brings out your good side." Sam bit out sarcastically and lightly threw it across the couple of feet that were between them.

Helmut caught it easily and opened his palm to see a scratched-up keychain of Iron-Man's helmet. It was light, made of cheap metal, with nearly reflective orange and red paint.

"Huh," he muttered lowly, turning it around a couple of times. The key chain was an old, cheap trinket. He couldn't even remember where Carl picked it up. Their city wasn't exactly in support of Iron man even before the Ultron mess so he doubted it was in Novi Grad. "It belonged to my son. My eldest stole it from him, she liked to do that when they were fighting. I imagine there was another fight over the fact that she lost it."

"Put it away before you lose it," Helmut told her the moment he noticed it dangling from her pocket. "What is it with you and stealing Carl's things?"

"I'm not going to lose it." Nic rolled her eyes and grabbed it. Throwing it to the holder inside the car door she turned to him. "See?"

"Hold up," Sam cut in, pulling Helmut's attention back to him. "You have kids?"

"Had, until your friends showed up. Why does this surprise you? I had a life outside of work." Helmut asked as he ran his thumb across the keychain before putting it into his pocket. It held no value or use, just a small sentimental trinket, he should throw it out.

"Don't get sassy with me, man. If you drop a bomb on us like this, I'm gonna have questions." Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door harder than it was necessary. Rude.

"As we all do I imagine. Curiosity is wired into our genes after all-"

"Not the time." James interrupted their conversation.

"Right, as I was saying," Helmut cleared his throat and went over to the yellow 1934 SS1 Jaguar where he knew he stored his coat. It was a nice coat. Warm, great quality leather with soft fur around the neck. Ivana loved to steal it and drop it over her shoulders the moment he looked away even for a second. No matter how many times he offered to get her one as well, she would just roll her eyes at him and stick her arms inside it as if to prove the point that it was already hers. It was funny how much it would engulf her, he wouldn't be able to protest for too long even if it ended up in him freezing his ass off at times. He blinked. "I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it's out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers."

Helmut placed the coat on top of the car, making sure it wouldn't fall to the dirty ground. Trying to keep his expression neutral as a wave of bitterness washed over him, he bent down to retrieve a bag from the inside. Once the coat was removed, on the green leather of the car seat, his old, purple mask stared back at him. He paused, having forgotten that he threw it here the last time he drove the car.

Nic made a face as she lifted the mask up and took a look at it. He had stored it away in the compartment box but Nic made her way inside it to snoop around.

"You don't like it?" He raised his eyebrow, pulling out of the garage and into the traffic. He promised to bring her to the Zoo couple of days prior and they were meant to return back home the next day. So begrudgingly, he found a couple of hours in the day when he could bring her, even though they went there not even half a year ago for her thirteenth birthday.

"It's…um…very purple."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Why is it so purple?"

"I think you just don't appreciate fashion." He accused her teasingly.

"You call this fashion?" She shot back.

" I let you sit in the front of the car with me and this is what I get in return?" Helmut feigned the hurt in his voice. "Being bullied by my own daughter."

Nic snorted and pulled it over her head. She pulled down the sun visor to see how she looked before turning to him. He wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was way too big for her. The holes for the eyes and mouth were too low and covered her vision instead.

"You're going to be grounded if I find any makeup stains inside it." He threatened and moved his hand from the gearbox to pull the mask off her head. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was already putting it on her face. Throwing it behind him to the back, he ruffled her hair even more, causing her to cry out and swat his hand away.

Swallowing, Helmut reached for the mask. His hand lingered on the soft material for a moment. Clicking his tongue, he grasped it tighter and pushed it inside the bag. It will be useful if they ran into trouble and he needed to stay out of the public eye. Nothing else. They really needed to get a move on. The familiarity of the place was making all the memories that he had no time or energy for to come back.

"I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished." Helmut asserted, taking the coat and dropping it over his forearm. With the bag in hand, he walked back to the 1946 Packard Clipper.

"To do this, we'll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes." He explained as he filled up the bag with a couple of knives, handguns, and few boxes of rounds.

"Well, join the party. We've already started." Sam remarked from behind him. He was the jokester amongst them, Helmut thought but ignored his comment.

"First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb." He added.

Once he was by the door, Helmut placed the bag on the floor and turned back to his 'team-mates'.

"Stay here." He ordered them, not particularly wanting them to go around and explore the rest of the building.

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded to know, ready to leap into a fight.

"To change, Sam," Helmut smirked and made a point to look down at his police uniform. "I would offer you to join, but I must say I was a married man and I don't break my vows."

"Just hurry up," Sam grunted disgusted at the image Helmut must have created in his brain.

Helmut did not hurry up. In fact, he took his sweet time in choosing his outfit. The upper level of the garage was converted into a somewhat livable space if it ever came to that. Ignoring the spare bedroom, he went straight to the room that acted as a walk-in wardrobe. After going through the options, he ended up settling on a pair of black slacks and a dark purple turtle neck that was loose enough to conceal the Kevlar bulletproof vest underneath.

"My, my." Ivana grinned, coming into their bathroom and leaning against the door frame while he was buttoning up his shirt. "Don't you look charming tonight?"

"Are you sure your opinion is not swayed by the fact that you got me the shirt?" Helmut raised his eyebrow as he watched her through the mirror.

"Of course not, Helmut," She rolled her eyes playfully, coming in further and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "But I gotta say, purple is your colour."

He hummed and tilted his head against her cheek as he finished the buttons, leaving the top two unbuttoned. She leaned in and placed her lips on his earlobe, nibbling it lightly.

"Brings out your eyes," She breathed into his ear, making him shiver.

"Honey," He grinned and turned around to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer until she was pressed firmly against his chest. He leaned in, pressing their lips together for the briefest moment. "If you keep this up, we won't leave this bathroom."

"Doesn't sound half bad to me," She quipped and grabbed his shirt to tug him back, deepening the kiss.

"Daddy!" Carl called out all the way from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting them. At the age of five, he possessed the power to scream down the house when he wanted something. "The TV stopped!"

"Duty calls," he half groaned out and stole another quick kiss, not wanting to leave just yet. "You nearly ready?"

"More ready than you."

Helmut blinked the memory away as he put the razor back in its place and looked at himself in the mirror. With a clean shaved face and back in his regular clothes, he looked half decent. Almost like he didn't spend years rotting away in a cell with nothing but books. Almost like he was presentable enough to go home. Except there was no one to greet him there now. Sighing, he grabbed his gloves from the sink counter and shut the light off on his way.

"Really? You couldn't have taken any longer?" James asked exasperated the moment he reappeared. To his surprise, they seemed to have listened and stayed where he ordered them to.

"I certainly could have, but unfortunately we have a plane to catch." Grabbing his bag and coat, he opened the door and threw them into the back.

"How you plan to get all this through the security? Not to mention that you're a runaway criminal?" Sam quizzed as he side-stepped quicker than usual to get to the front seat.

"I have my ways, you'll see," Helmut responded and pressed the button to open the garage door. Sitting down behind the wheel felt nice. He had to admit, he missed driving.

Once on the road, the car fell into silence for a few moments with the radio playing quietly, before Sam ruined it by opening his mouth.

"So what? You took your kids on your little killing sprees?"

"Killing sprees, as you call it, involve a great amount of waiting around. We went sightseeing, mostly. Sometimes shopping." Helmut entertained his idiotic question as he sped up, darting in between the traffic. He smiled smugly catching James' eye-roll in the back mirror.

From their expressions, Helmut gathered that both Sam and James did not expect him to bring them into a small airport forty minutes outside the city and waltz through it like he owned it. The workers that noticed them simply nodded their heads in greeting and minded their business.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asked, surprise evident in his voice as the three of them made their way towards a private jet that was parked on the runway.

"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Helmut explained as they walked past the plane's wing.

Oeznik was waiting for them by the stairs. Helmut smiled, genuinely happy to see his most loyal friend. The man was in his life as long as he could remember and he was there by his side when Nic and Carl were born, watching them over while he was away. Helmut owed him a debt that he could never repay.

"Hello, Oeznik." Helmut greeted him in Russian the moment he was close enough to be heard over the engine. Oeznik was the one who sat him through hours of Russian lessons many years ago. It was only fair that he would greet him in it.

"Welcome, gentlemen." Oeznik greeted them back in Russian, causing Helmut to grin wider. While James knew Russian better than anyone, Helmut wasn't sure if Sam did.

"Old friend." Helmut embraced him and kissed both of his cheeks. It had been too long. Nodding to him, Helmut turned to James and Sam. Partly to get them on the plane, and partially because he couldn't look at the man for too long, not when he was looking at him with such adoration. Like he was truly happy to see him. It felt wrong. Undeserving. It made his skin crawl.

"Please." Helmut invited them in and boarded the plane. It was one of the smaller jet's that belonged to him; a six-seater with a small gallery. Perfect for quick travel.

While Sam and Bucky got comfortable in their seats, Helmut took a moment to go through the gallery in hopes of finding something that would pass the time between taking off and reaching the optimal altitude. He wasn't a fan of how rocky the first part of the journey tended to be. Helmut could already hear them going back and forth between each other. Finding a book, he pulled out a small red notebook from his coat's pocket. He nicked it, mostly out of curiosity, from James when he wasn't paying attention. He was sure it would also help to understand where the soldier's mind was at currently. After having his memory scrambled for decades, he was bound to be desperate to write down anything important, in fears of forgetting it. It was only logical.

Putting it in the middle of the book, he returned to the cabin and picked a seat near Sam, so that he could have a viewpoint advantage to watch James. He took a look at him for a moment before opening the book and feigning his interest in it. The former Winter soldier had no idea that he lost something. Perhaps James was trying to suppress anything that had to do with the Winter Soldier, including his heightened senses.

Once they were airborne, Oeznik returned with a glass of champagne for him. Helmut chuckled softly and reached out for it, crossing his legs as he leaned back into his chair.

"Apologies if that's a little warm, the fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley."

"If it doesn't pass the smell test… give it to them," Helmut suggested in Sokovian, tilting his head towards them, to give just enough suspicion that he was saying something about them. It was fun, getting under their skin. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would tell a difference even if they took the offer of food which he doubted they would. Probably would believe that he was trying to poison them.

"It's good to have you back, sir." Oeznik chuckled with affection in his voice and returned back to the gallery. Helmut tilted his glass before taking a sip, hoping to wash away the heaviness in his stomach that formed. He could think of a couple of things that would be better than him to have back.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That's right. You do." He couldn't help but deliver the dig, even at the expense of setting their 'friendship' a step backward. He wanted to acknowledge Sam's time in the RAFT, of the time that he was a prisoner just like himself. That they had something in common, not just an enemy. Also to hint that he kept up with the news, that he knew of their actions and steps, even all the way from a prison cell.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" For what it's worth, Helmut had to give a point to Sam for not falling for the most basic bait.

Helmut instead of answering picked up his book and flicked through the notebook, settling on a list. He paused for a second. He was familiar with the names on it. After spending over a year learning everything there was about James' time as the Winter Soldier, he had Black widow to thank for making his job easier, he understood the meaning behind them. What took him by surprise was to see his own name amongst them.

"I'm sorry. I was just fascinated by this." Helmut changed the subject, concentrating on one name that he didn't recognize. Nakajima was circled a couple of times, most likely the most important name on the list. However, he never came across of a Nakajima in James' files. "I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?"

James jumped from his seat and within a second, had the vibranium arm around his throat. The suddenness did catch him off guard, causing him to exhale sharply but he wasn't scared. The grip was tight, in a way that was meant to send a message, not to actually cause harm. Besides, why would you be scared of a thing you craved in the dead of night? Death wasn't something that could be used against him, not when he welcomed it years ago.

Helmut maintained eye contact, almost daring him to go further. To prove his point. That was what the serum did to people. Edged them towards extremes, and James Barnes was as extreme as one could get. A man-made killing machine.

"If you touch that again, I'll kill you." James declared, with a calmness in his voice that only people who had their hands dirty could muster. Touchy subject then. He yanked the notebook out of his hands and only then released his grip.

"I'm sorry," Helmut apologized, his voice sounding hoarser from the strain it just experienced. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."'But why is my name important enough to you for you to write it down in your amends?' was left unasked.

"Don't push it." James bit out, becoming guarded once again, just like when he came to his cell. He reminded Helmut of a dog he used to see back home. Desperate for help, but too long on the streets to trust anyone.

"I've seen that book. It was Steve's when he came out of the ice." Sam noted with fondness in his voice. "I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"

"I like '40s music, so…" James replied, clenching his jaw.

"You didn't like it?"

"I liked it."

"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." Helmut joined in the conversation.

"He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."

"I like Marvin Gaye."

"Steve adored Marvin Gaye."

"You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."

"Watch your step, Zemo." Sam warned him but he ignored it.

"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? No. That is why we're going to Madripoor."

"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam asked, glancing between him and James.

"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s." James was the one to answer him. That was a light way of putting it.

"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."'But we both know that's not quite true don't we?' Helmut left unsaid.

The flight from Germany to Madripoor took roughly fourteen hours. For the first couple of hours, they sat in relative silence. Helmut drowned himself into the book while James looked out the window and Sam had his AirPods in, drumming his fingers against the armrest to the beat of a song.

Helmut shifted in his seat, closing the book. Sighing, he placed it on the chair opposite of him and stood up needing to stretch his legs. The jet didn't have that much space to walk so he chose to cross the gallery to refill his glass. With the drink in hand, he wandered down into the cockpit where Oeznik and another pilot were sitting.

"Sir." The pilot greeted him in Russian the moment he noticed him leaning against the door frame.

"Excellent flying, Dabrowski." Helmut smiled, crossing his arms. "haven't felt any turbulence."

"Thank you sir."

The cockpit fell into silence, not that Helmut minded. He was too used to it to find it uncomfortable. He watched the clouds pass them by, sipping the champagne. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to Oeznik.

"Did they treat you alright, Helmut? Truly?" Oeznik asked, switching to Sokovian while looking at him with such adoration and worry that Helmut had to look away yet again. He cleared his throat and plastered a smile on his face. Even to himself it felt forced.

"Of course Oeznik, you worry too much." He chided him gently. The man always fussed about him. He always fretted over Ivana as well, concerned if she ate enough throughout the day. Never went a day without secretly giving Nic and Carl a piece of candy even if Carl never was able to keep it a secret.

"Well it has been my job for over forty years and you tend to find trouble around every corner." The older man chuckled fondly.

"Nonsense, I'm always on my best behavior. How have you been? I imagine you enjoyed the much-needed vacation days." Helmut changed the subject easily. He didn't want to linger on what once was.

"If I knew your drastic ways of making me take the vacation days off, I would have taken them sooner," Oeznik joked before his smile fell away. "Things have been quiet. It a strange thing to get used to. Even after all these years, I expect to hear Nic and Car, to just pop out around any corner that I turn. I make sure they always have fresh flowers, especially Ivana. She was hellbent on having fresh flowers around the house."

His voice broke, thick with emotion. Helmut had to bite down the inside of his cheek to keep himself composed. The metallic taste filled his mouth and as he ran his tongue over the spot, it sent a small jolt of pain.

It had been so long since he saw their graves. He only went there once, to watch their caskets be lowered into a deep hole. As if that somehow could have brought him some sort of closure, as if it would have granted him the ability to say goodbye. The thought of returning, of stepping a foot in that damned graveyard, of looking at three tombstones, side by side, washed him over with such coldness that even if he jumped into antarctic water he would have been warmer. Shame flooded him. What kind of a man did not visit his own family? What kind of a husband, a father, would let them rot alone.

"Thank you, Oeznik. I'll…" Helmut swallowed, trying to find the words that seemed determined to be stuck in his throat and left unsaid. "I'll make sure to pay them a visit. Later."

Helmut did what he did best; he lied. You told her they would be safe. Look how that turned out.

Made another useless promise, knowing full well he couldn't walk down that path, not without putting a bullet in himself and joining them.

Madripoor was just as vivid and bright as he remembered. The lights of the High Town shone from miles away. They stopped by Helmut's safe house, where James and Sam reluctantly changed into a set of clothes that wouldn't instantly attract attention to them. Especially for the roles that they would have to play if they wanted to get information. Unsurprisingly, it took longer to convince Sam to dress up than it did James.

"We have to fix this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp." Sam groaned out, looking at his apparel for the tenth time in disgust.

"Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp." Helmut sighed as he dug out his phone and split his attention between looking at the road in front of them and through the gallery to find a picture of Conrad Mack. "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger."

"He even has a bad nickname." Sam took a glance at the picture. "he does look like me, though."

Sam passed the phone back to him. The closer they walked to the city, the sharper the distinct stench became.

"You smell this?" Helmut asked keeping his attention upfront. A car was arranged to collect them at any moment now, but anything could happen between now and then. He rather not have surprises popping up at them in a place like this. Even he didn't know the city that well and he doubted many people would be willing to help out.

"Yeah, what is that? Acid?"

More like a combined mixture of the fumes from the buildings, production of drugs, all the imported animals and God knows what else. Helmut had no doubt that the water surrounding the city was toxic and could kill someone if they fell into it.

"Madripoor."

A bright beam of headlights flashed them as a car came to a stop a short distance away from them.

"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error." Helmut explained calmly, barely moving his lips just in case the driver felt particularly nosy. They could trust no one.

"High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way." He added, opening the passenger door.

"Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town." Sam said as he walked around the car.

Helmut gave him a smile and sat down in the front. The destination, Brass Monkey, was already agreed during the call so Helmut only needed to forward the payment before the car moved in the direction of Low Town.

It did not take long until several motorcycles surrounded their car. Someone already knew of their arrival before they even took a step inside Low Town. Helmut's money was on the Power Broker, which was not the best news for them. He watched Sam turn around and look behind him through the rear-view mirror.

Once the car stopped, Helmut nodded to the driver and exited the car. Wordlessly, he led James and Sam through the streets, passing armed guards, dealers, and hookers until they arrived at Brass Monkey.

"Here we are. Remember your roles no matter what happens." He reminded them again, giving a hard look to Sam. He knew once James got into the role of the Winter Soldier again, there would be very little that could affect him enough to give up their act. It was Sam who made him nervous. His seemingly constant need to check up and staring at James might be the thing that gets them caught. The last thing they needed was for the whole city-state to put a bounty on their head.

The inside was packed with all sorts of lowlifes.

"Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?" Helmut asked James in Russian, loud enough for people to hear and for whispering to begin. He needed the whispers to travel to the right people. Not only would it get them to Selby faster, but it would also buy him security. Winter Soldier's reputation around these parts was well known, not many would want to dive headfirst at them.

Helmut lead them to the bar and took a quick glance around. For the most part, there was no one that stood out or seemed out of place. He noticed that to their right a couple of feet away, two women stood together, but only one of them kept her eyes trained on them. It was the insistent staring that caught his attention. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell much about them, the taller one wore a hood and the one that was watching them had a mask that covered half of her face. The mask reminded him of what the Winter Soldier used to wear. The Bar's security perhaps. Or maybe an interested party.

"Hello, gentlemen. Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." The barman approached them, distracting him from the two women. He took a look at Sam but didn't appear to be suspicious over his appearance.

"His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby." Helmut answered instead. They had agreed that he would do all the talking and they would simply need to nod along and look pretty.

"The usual?"

There came their test. Seeing the barman take a cobra out of a glass container and drag a knife across it, Helmut sighed dramatically, expressing his feigned happiness at receiving Sam's 'favourite' drink. It was made out Gin, Triple Sec, Cobra heart, and finger lim.

"Smiling Tiger, your favorite." He emphasized with a smile on his face. Helmut had to admit, it was going to be fun.

The barman placed their drinks on the table.

"I love these," Sam spoke up and looked at him, holding the shot as far away as he could from himself.

"Cheers, Conrad." Helmut clinked their glasses and knocked back the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, the heart adding that extra kick of spice to the mix. It wouldn't be his first choice of drink, but it wasn't the worst that he tasted.

"Mmm. Mmm."

While Sam tried to force himself to drink the shot before it became too obvious, Helmut glanced to the corner of the table again. The woman with the hood was gone but the second one was interested in watching Sam with the drink. They definitely had an audience. Not so good.

Hearing someone approach from behind, Helmut turned in time to see the Power Broker's henchman coming up.

"I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."

Helmut considered his words carefully. They needed to prove that James was under his control. These types of talks often needed a bargaining chip and what was better than a Winter Soldier?

"I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…" he responded and gestured to James who was stiffly standing beside him.

"New haircut?"

"Or bring Selby for a chat."

After a glance at James, the henchman left them alone. Hopefully to get Selby. Licking his lips, Helmut turned back to the bar.

"A Power Broker? Really?" James muttered out lowly, unimpressed with the name. Not that Helmut could blame him, the name was a little bit cliché.

"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." Helmut shrugged. The one time that he indirectly dealt with the Power Broker was back in '08, when the EKO Scorpion needed to obtain a particular nerve agent for one of their missions. Even back then, you did not want to get on the wrong side of the Power Broker. He didn't even want to imagine how big his empire was now.

"Do you know him?" Sam whispered, glancing around the bar.

"Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is the judge, jury, and executioner." Helmut elaborated and tilted his head to their watcher. "And has eyes and ears everywhere. She hasn't stopped watching us ever since we stepped a foot near the bar."

Sam's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and he glanced in her direction. Helmut didn't have much time to say anything else. More of the Power Broker's men were making their way towards them.

"Winter Soldier." Helmut looked at James dead in the eye. "Attack."

He ordered in Russian just as a hand gripped his shoulder. James did not hesitate, ripping the man's arm off him and bending it backward. Dragging him towards the centre of the room, he broke the man's arm in half and threw a punch in his face using the prosthetic arm, rendering the man useless on the floor.

Helmut smiled. He was right after all. No matter how much James denied, the Winter Soldier was right there, still inside him. The bystanders took out their phones, filming as the Winter Soldier single-handedly took out anyone that came at him.

Helmut stood back and apart from pushing a couple of them into Winter Soldier's path, he watched the scene unfold. James was lethal, just like he was all the way back when they first met and Helmut uttered the words of his programming. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman leaning her body over the counter as she said something to the barman who promptly left with a phone pressed to his ear.

"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form." Helmut chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at Sam who seemed a little bit pale. He barely paid any attention to Helmut, his eyes only watching James.

The Winter Soldier grabbed someone by the throat and lifted him in the air before throwing him over the counter. The sound of multiple guns cocking behind them made Helmut's heart skip a single beat. Glancing around, it seemed like every single person was arming themselves. Sam gripped James' forearm causing Helmut to hiss out:

"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us."

The Flying Tiger certainly would not be touching James' without wishing a swift death sentence. James' not reacting to a threat, allowing a touch on himself would blow their cover to pieces. Sam let go.

"Well done, soldier." Helmut praised James, replacing Sam's hand on him with his own. He needed to take control of the situation and fast.

The barman returned and nodded to the woman.

"Selby will see you now. Follow me, gentlemen." She spoke out for the first time, rising from her seat. The honeyed voice twinged with a familiar accent ripped the breath right out of Helmut's lungs. Even muffled by the mask, it was distinguishable in all the ways that it couldn't have been possible. It halted him to the spot, unable so much as to inhale the air that his lungs started to scream for. He did not see James let go of the man or Sam cast him a confused look when he made no move to follow.

This was not possible.

I 'll try to update the fic once a week to keep somewhat consistent schedule :)

Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to bring you more content soon x

[marvel-ousfairy]

“Flesh eating plants, are you kidding me???” NALU Oneshot

Author’s Note: Ummm... So I don’t normally post my own writings, but I wrote this literally years ago and figured it was about time I posted it. Better late then never, right? *Chuckles nervously* Anyways, there are a few plot holes and things but I’m honestly too lazy to change it sooo, here you go! Let me know what y’all think. (Also I appologize in advance for any wierd formatting issues. I blame Tumblr.)

Warnings: Fighting, angst with a fluffy ending, killer plants? idk what else to put haha. If you read it and think there are any other warnings I should add, please please let me know.

Pairing(s): NaLu

_____

“Open, Gate of the Golden Bull: Taurus!” Lucy Heartfilia shouted, summoning the celestial spirit to her side.

“Mooo! It’s nice to see you again, Miss Luuucy.” Her celestial spirit, Taurus, drawled as the golden light of Lucy’s magic dissipated.

A large crash echoed through the forest near Magnolia as Lucy dove to avoid getting hit by a thick plant root, only a gaping hole left of the earth where she previously stood.

“Not the time,” Lucy panted before struggling to her feet again. “I need you to get in there and snap those vines!” she directed.

Celestial Wizard Lucy Heartfilia, her partner Fire Dragon Slayer Natsu Dragneel, and their cat companion, Happy, had taken a simple job helping out a local farmer. The request had asked for a few wizards to come assist in the extermination of the vermin rampaging through the owner’s crops.

“Stop pouting,” she said as the trio walked through town towards the agricultural district. “At least you get to beat something up.” She smiled, glancing around at the fruit and vegetable stalls lining the streets.

The pink haired wizard crossed his arms before letting out an offended huff. “I’m a dragon slayer, not an exterminator.” He whined.

The blonde let out a giggle, ignoring his petulant child act. Her laughter didn’t last long, however. Upon their arrival at the little farm, the trio soon realized that things weren’t as they appeared. Much to Lucy’s horror and Natsu’s delight, the vermin that needed bashing turned out to be full-fledged, plant-based monsters.

“’Let’s do it’ I said. ‘This will be easy’ I said. How does a Venus Flytrap even grow this large?” Lucy grumbled as she jumped over another stream of murderous plant roots. Finally finding solid ground, she pointed Taurus towards the twisted nether of roots and stems that kept the frightening flora grounded. Meanwhile, Natsu busied himself with torching the other five or so reanimated plants that littered the forests edge.

“Fire Dragon: Roar!” He let out a manic laugh as his flames transformed an entire line of trees into glittering torches, burning friend and foe indiscriminately.  

“Natsu, watch where you’re aiming,” Lucy scolded, letting loose a disgruntled shout as she once again narrowly missed a blow to the side via killer plants. The self-proclaimed farmer, apparently, was a wizard himself who specialized in foreign herbs with magical properties. Their current foes were the result of his latest creations gone very wrong.

“We already owe a great deal in repair costs as it is. The master will kill us if we burn down another building,” she reminded him, hand on her hip.

“Yeah, Yeah.” Natsu shrugged as he incinerated yet another row of trees and crops.  “Stop with your naggin’ already. We’ll be fi– Hey Lucy, watch out!” The dragon slayer let out a roar as Lucy whipped around. A faint gasp swept past her lips as a verdant blur crossed her vision. Pain ricocheted down her left side as a stray vine from the Flytrap knocked her to the ground, tangling with her legs and whipping her towards the Venus’ awaiting jaws.

“Argh,” Natsu screamed, face contorted in anger. “Fire Dragon: Wing Attack!” The vines that dug at her skin, slowly encroaching upon her torso, were suddenly engulfed in flame and burnt to a crisp. She yelped as Natsu’s flames left her stranded in the open air. With nothing left to catch her fall, she plummeted back down to the rigid ground, her head smacking against the dirt with a harsh crack. A muffled yowl came from beneath her and she rolled over to find a disgruntled Happy scowling back at her.

“You alright, Luce?” Natsu questioned, finishing off the last of the nasty creatures.

“I’m the one in pain,” Happy cried, indignantly. “Lucy squashed me with her fat butt!”

“WATCH IT, CAT!” she screeched at the little blue exceed, the pain from her fall quickly washed into the foreground.

Natsu cackled, causing the celestial spirit mage to turn her glare on him. Noticing the change in atmosphere, he yelped as a certain red-haired wizard came to mind.

“Scary,” he whined. Lucy’s scowl deepened before gifting him with another one of her signature Lucy Kicks.

“Humph,” she muttered, smiling in satisfaction. “Serves you right.”

_____

Later, at the Fairy Tail guildhall, the pair found themselves curled around the bar. Mira wiped down the counters, glancing at the two while she worked. Lucy sat on Natsu’s left with reequip mage Erza Scarlet on his right. Gajeel, Levy, and Pantherlily were located at a table behind him, while Gray was doing his best to avoid an overly exuberant Juvia. Happy had disappeared soon after their arrival back at the guild, dreams of fish and a particular white feline dancing in his head. An overall jubilant air had settled on the guild as members had returned from their missions to settle in for the day.

Lucy leaned against the bar, head spinning, with a strawberry concoction clutched between her palms. A dull ache had settled into her bones since their mission earlier, winding around her mind like a snake. A slight burning sensation danced along her side as a pair of onyx eyes watched her with intensity.

“I’m fine,” she said with a huff, not bothering to turn towards the dragon slayer gazing at her worriedly.

“Lucy, I–”

“Really, Natsu, I’m alright.”

Natsu grumbled, unconvinced, as he finished off the plate of food Mira had set before him. He knew Lucy was lying, but he also knew that she could be just as pigheaded as him. She had been acting strange ever since their return from their earlier expedition. Despite her claims otherwise, he could tell something was up.

Lucy stood up abruptly, letting out a heavy sigh, before turning towards Natsu once more. Ignoring the stars that threatened to consume her vision, she forced a wide smile onto her lips. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be okay. I think I’m just gonna head home and get some rest. The fight today really took it out of me. Thanks for the drink, Mira.”

She gave one more wave to the white-haired woman before making her way towards the entrance. Before he could make any move to stop Lucy’s departure, Erza placed an armor clad hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Natsu,” the red-haired warrior assured him. “She can take care of herself.”

He simply nodded, giving Lucy another intense stare before promptly getting knocked off of his barstool by a half-naked Gray. Mira giggled as Natsu let out an enraged scream. Apparently, Juvia had finally caught up to her beloved Gray.  

“What the heck was that for, you pervert?”  Natsu yelled as he quickly shifted into battle-mode, fists blazing with fire.

“Who you callin’ pervert, flame for brains?” Gray challenged.

Soon after, a fight broke out between the two, eventually expanding into a guild-wide brawl after another slice of Erza’s strawberry cake was destroyed. Lucy, who had been watching from the towering guild doors, shook her head. She let out a yelp as a chair smashed against the wall to her left, before finally disappearing out the door and into the streets of Magnolia.  

 Despite a slight limp in her step and pain in her side, the walk home wasn’t as bad as she’d first expected it to be. It wasn’t long before she was weaving her way past the ferrymen and stumbling into her apartment with a heavy sigh.

“Home at last,” she hummed to herself. She stretched out her limbs, cringing as her ankle buckled a bit in pain, before making her way toward the bathroom. “Maybe a shower will help wash off the pain from today,” she mused, ridding herself of her blood-stained clothes. With steam flooding the little room and the water temperature set on high, she stepped carefully into the scalding water. A shaky breath escaped her lips, but her mind continued to spin at a rapid fire pace. Groaning in frustration, she tried for another calming breath. Despite her chance to finally relax a bit, she couldn’t manage to quiet her mind. It had already been a long day, now made even longer by the pain that constricted her mind and body. A glance towards her numerous bruises sent a frustrated sigh past her lips, before her features contorted in confusion. A second glance down at her body caused her gaze to quickly slip from confusion to fear. Thin green lines painted swirls and complex designs across her torso, leaving angry red marks in their wake. The vines, she thought. They don’t just feed off human flesh… “They steal magic power!” She shouted, mentally kicking herself for forgetting the farmer’s warnings. He’d told them that this was a possibility.

Her hands shook as she slowly grew more and more hysterical, tearing frantically at the small vines cutting at her body. Just as she made some headway clearing the thin vines, however, the dizziness from before threatened to overtake her. She reached for her keys, only to find them rendered useless. My magic power is too far gone, she cursed. “Loke, Virgo, someone please!” She cried out desperately. They can’t hear me, she sobbed. A single step towards the bathroom door sent her vision shaking. By two steps, the light in the room began to dance. By the third, Lucy could feel herself losing her will to stand. By the forth, she found herself hitting the ground as the ceiling grew further and further away. “Natsu…” She whispered as vines tangle around her mouth. Her vision slipped away as she soon felt herself get swallowed whole by a cocoon of roots and vines, before she finally lost consciousness altogether.

______

Back at the guild hall, things had finally settled down. Luckily, the aftermath of the brawl had been minimal. A few burnt spots, some broken tables and chairs, and a few missing pillars. The building, by some miracle, still stood proudly in the heart of town.

“Where’s Lucy?” Natsu asked, having finally cooled down from his fight with Gray.

“Oh. Lucy? She went home a little bit ago.” Mira said, smiling sweetly from behind the bar.

“You even watched her go, you idiot.” Gray said with a laugh. Natsu shot the Ice mage a scowl.

“He loooooves her.” Happy drawled from his place next to Charle on the bar top.

Natsu reddened in embarrassment, brushing salmon strands out of his face. The dragon slayer stiffened as a ball of anxiety settled into his stomach. His nose twitched as he took in the stale undertones in the air, confirming some unknown fears. He could be wrong, but he knew Lucy. He knew her scent and how it changed depending on her mood. Right now, the thick smell of fear curdled his blood. Something was wrong.  

With one last vengeful fireball to Gray’s face, he ran off towards Lucy’s apartment with the blue exceed following close behind. Fellow mages and townsfolk cried out in protest as he pushed by them, but Natsu didn’t notice. Blood pumped in his ears, matching his racing footsteps as he hurtled himself down the stone streets. As Lucy’s apartment came into view he pushed his legs faster, using his fire to boost himself through her window in a single bound.

Once safely inside, the first thing he noticed was the silence. Despite the distinct sound of a shower in the background, the stillness hung like a thick fog in the air, suffocating him.  Steam seeped from beneath the bathroom door as he flung it open to reveal a horrific jungle. Vines grew up and off the walls, roots digging out of cracks in the floor.  Leafy plants twisted in midair like worms burrowing through the dirt, dragging curious fingers along his face and down his legs. “Lucy!” Natsu shouted, digging through twists and snarls in the vines. “Lucy!” No answer. Frantic, he set his body ablaze, burning down every vine he could get his hands on. The twisted nether of green squealed and screeched, cutting at his arms and face as every vine soon turned to ash. Finally, there was nothing left but a pale sleeping beauty curled up on the scorched and broken tile.

“Lucy…” his voice was barely a whisper as he pulled the blonde into his arms, swaddling her in a nearby towel. Ashen vines were like cobwebs arching across her ghostly pale skin, her fingers tinged blue as if frost bitten. Even her hair seemed somehow drained of life, as the last of her magical energy seemed to fall dangerously low.

“Nat-su,” a shuddering gasp swept past her grey, cracked lips. “Help m-me… S-so c-cold…” Her words came out in little puffs as her eyes fluttered open, straining to gaze up at his face.

“Lucy. Lucy, look at me. I – I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He hugged her into his chest, his tears melting into sobs as the smell of strawberries and vanilla wrapped around him. Desperately, he looked around the small apartment before his eyes settled on his blue companion, standing wide-eyed at the door.

“Get Wendy!” He cried out to the little exceed.

“Natsu?” His little eyes rounded with horror.

“NOW, HAPPY!”

“A-Aye, sir!” Happy jumped up and gave him a determined nod before soaring back out the open window from whence they’d come.

A shaky hand grasped onto his scarf, pulling his gaze back down to Lucy’s shaking form.  She curled like a sunflower into his warmth before letting out a shuttering gasp.

“Don’t leave me,” she wheezed. Every note grated against his ears, her normally melodic voice cracked and broken. Regret settled like a stone in his stomach as he cradled her closer to his chest.    “Never,” he whispered.

A soft kiss warmed her clammy skin, flowering across her cheek, as exhaustion finally pulled her into a deep, restless sleep.

______

Warm hands wrapped around her as the smell of wood smoke and cinnamon swirled through the air. She knew that scent. It meant safety, warmth. It meant home.

A slow smile stretched across her lips as her eyes fluttered open to see a chiseled chest and strong arms holding her close. A quick blink shot her eyes upward, only for them to be met with slightly parted lips. As her eyes roamed over the curved planes of his jaw, the slightly parted lips morphed gradually until she was met with a wide, toothy grin. One more shift left her breathless, as she tumbled deep into the depths of his obsidian gaze.

“Natsu –” she stammered.

“Welcome back.” He pulled her closer, resting his forehead onto hers before finally releasing a heavy sigh of relief.

All the pain that had previously ensnared her was gone without a trace. The telltale signs of the guildhall infirmary told her that she had Wendy’s sky magic to thank for that. The warmth that flooded her senses, however, was thanks to her one and only favorite dragon slayer. Although, she doubted it was his naturally higher body temperature that caused warmth to flood her cheeks. Curious eyes peered up at him as his eyes danced behind hooded eyelids. Her very presence seemed to melt him, soften his normally sharp edges.

“Natsu?” She questioned as his face lowered towards hers, their noses brushing together.

“Hmm?” he hummed a response, not quite focusing on her words.

“I –” she began, her words causing their lips to brush. Fire raced through her veins at the sudden touch. A gasp escaped her as their lips finally connected, the sound muffled by the gentle caress of his lips on hers. She felt the fire that raced through him swirling just beneath the skin, held back by an unseen floodgate. He nipped playfully at her bottom lip as their lips danced together in perfect harmony. Abandoning its previous position around her legs, his right hand slid up her side to cup her face while his left hand snaked around her waist, tugging her closer still to his chest. Trails of fire blazed across her skin wherever his fingers danced, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. Her delicate fingers dug into his silky salmon locks as all of their raw emotions were poured out, left open and vulnerable for the other to see. Their kiss grew desperate as the spicy taste of cinnamon filled her senses, causing her toes to curl and her fingers to tug harder at his cotton candy locks. With one last shuddering breath Natsu pulled away, studying her rosy cheeks and her chocolaty brown eyes alight with joy and complete contentment. A deep, throaty chuckle escaped his lips, vibrating against her chest, as he took in her dopey smile. Swollen red lips downturned into a pout, enticing him into another sweet kiss upon her lips, before her dopey grin returned with renewed vigor and her laughter intertwined with his. Lucy gazed sleepily up at Natsu as he mindlessly spun her golden locks through his fingers, a gentle lullaby to her tired mind.

“I –” she began slowly.

“She loooooves him!” came a teasing voice, followed by fits of laughter and giggles. Lucy’s eyes widened, taking in the audience staring at them from the doorway. Spotting the culprit for the interruption, her eyes narrowed on a certain blue exceed hidden in the crowd.

“SHUT IT, CAT!” She screeched as Natsu’s chuckles rolled into cackles, his body shaking as his face twisted with laughter. Lucy burrowed into his scaly white scarf, groans mixing with laughter as she took in a beautiful, terrifying truth. Happy was right about her and Natsu. She really did looooove him, and the adoration he showered down upon her told the mage that he really did looooove her, too.

[salthaven]

A Lady’s Scout (and the Salt within her Soul)

A Lady’s Scout (and the Salt within her Soul)

   Marinette doesn’t know how the rumors started. Oh scratch that, of course she knows how the rumors started. Hell, she encouraged them herself!

   She was pissed, and rightfully so. Her friends had all left her, betraying her, forgetting her, leaving her behind for Lila. A single incident turned into multiples, and Marinette ended that same week in the back once more, now a permanent resident of the back row. All it took was a few crocodile tears from Lila to Miss Bustier, complaining about sight problems. But of course, she just needed to be a little closer to the board. Like Marinette’s spot kind of close. But it’s fine, because Marinette can sit with Nathaniel, and aren’t they such good friends?

   Marinette didn’t even try to complain, already knowing that she’d lose. And so she ended the week in the back, silently fuming as Alya didn’t even bat an eye at the change.

   And it only continued. Days turned into weeks, and the weeks never ended. Suddenly Marinette was being forgotten, abandoned on an island, watching in vain as her classmates were left in awe of Lila’s latest ‘travels’. Sure, she had Nathaniel, but he was wrapped up in his comic most of the time.

   So Marinette became wrapped up in her own little world of designs. Without her friends by her side, Marinette found herself with more free time than she’d had in months! (It looks like Lila can bring some good into her life!)

   The first creation was a fox themed shirt, styled after Rena Rouge’s costume. Bold orange merged seamlessly with a creamy white, little embroidery creating a picture in the corner for searching eyes to find. A little fox, prancing among the flowers. A little fox, searching for something.

   A little fox, searching for the Miraculous she’d never get again. Because why would she? Why would she, when she was no longer dependable? When she was no longer trustworthy, no longer loyal? When she’d forget Marinette for the next best thing?

   So maybe Marinette was a little bitter, but who could blame her? And besides, why would she want to keep a fox that betrays her when she could have a friend who would silently stand by her side, or rather sit there, and come up with his own little illusions each and every day?

   Fennec debuted three weeks after Marinette is exiled to the back, on a sunny day that does little to represent Alya’s mood.

   Marinette presented the shirt on that following Monday.

   “Th- thank you, Marinette,” Alya said, eyes widening as she gazed at the shirt. “But why is it fox themed?”

   “Oh, you reminded me of Rena,” Marinette said with a wink, but there was no smile on her face. There wasn’t one on Alya’s, either, but only teary eyes.

   Later, Marinette would look down at Alya and be met with skeptical, questioning eyes. But the eyes turned away quickly, downcast.

   Marinette watched on from her spot in the back, eyes searching for flaws. She found them in her partners, and she created.

   Next came a hoodie. A soft green, with a hexagonal pattern stitched in with darker thread. A hood, large enough for an old friend to hide his head in, even with a hat on.

   He was protective, but not of Ladybug. Only Rena Rouge, only ever Rena Rouge. But Rena was gone, and so he would be, too.

   Luka swapped teal for green, becoming Protecteur. Her protector. Because he’d never harmed her, he’d never betrayed her. He’d always been there, a silent support, and now he could be the same for Ladybug.

   When Marinette gave Nino the hoodie, his eyes locked with hers, an unusual trait.

   “Hey, what’s up with the Carapace theme, dudette?”

   “He was just like you, wasn’t he?” She asked, and then she was gone, hidden in the back.

   It’d be hard to miss how he tensed from so high up. Perhaps it was good, being forced to the back.

   A bee themed skirt was made quickly. Light and simple, the white skirt had little yellow bees buzzing along the hem. Cute, yet impractical. Focusing more on looks than on functionality.

   Yes, that was the way Marinette worked out her stress from Queen Bee, from the hero who never was, and never would be forevermore.

   She presented it before she chose a replacement, and was met with weariness.

   “You never give me gifts, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé pointed out bluntly, eyes challenging. “What’s with the skirt?”

   “Oh, I just thought you’d like a little keepsake,” Marinette responded, already turning away.

   Three days later, a new bee was chosen. Monarch rose up, a force to be reckoned with.

   Kagami was all too happy to take up the mantle, to take out her stress on the poor Akuma victims. She was honored to be chosen, and Marinette was happy.

   Her team was chosen, fixed to her liking. She was protected, she was safe, no longer relying on classmates who would only let her down.

   And the rumors spread. From Alya and Nino, whispering to one another about what the gifts could mean. To an accidental comment near Lila, who used it as fuel to spread her fire. Because if Marinette knew...who’s to say she isn’t acting as some sort of scout?

   “Ladybug and I had a falling out,” Lila explained with a flip of her hair. “I didn’t approve of the idea, so she and I had a spat.” She smiled at Alya, all sugar and sweetness. “I’d never replace someone like you...but Marinette would encourage it.”

   Alya had glared at Marinette the rest of the week, and the whisperings picked up.

   Chloé learned from Lila, and came marching up to Marinette immediately.

   “Lila says you’re some kind of hero scout, huh?” Chloé said, shoving her face into Marinette’s. “What, are you some kind of goody two-shoes who talks to Ladybug, crying when someone upsets you?”

   Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Me? Why, I do nothing of the sort! I’d never complain to Ladybug like that.” She smiled, fully aware of the searching eyes. Aware of the awe stricken gaze Nathaniel sent her way, of the shock in Nino’s eyes and pure hatred in Alya’s. “I wouldn’t complain, but if she does come by for advice...who am I to lie?”

   She saw how Lila glared, teeth grinding. She saw how her classmates reacted, some with excitement, others with worry. Unsure how to feel, unsure how to act.

   Fennec, by then permanent much like her Bee and Turtle, questioned her during patrol, right in front of Chat Noir, Protecteur, and Monarch.

   “Hey, Ladybug?” Fennec asked, eyes full of nerves.

   “Yes, Fennec?”

   “Is Marinette some sort of hero scout for you?”

   With those words, Ladybug saw how her three teammates paused. Protecteur and Monarch seemed shocked by the words, Chat Noir just leaned in closer, waiting with baited breath for her answer.

   “She is,” Ladybug replied easily, knowing the rumors would spread, knowing the rumors would lead to hatred and excitement and an alibi. (Because how could Ladybug’s scout be a hero, especially Ladybug herself? It just wouldn’t be possible!) “I tried giving her the Fox Miraculous back during Sapotis, but she suggested a friend of hers. They were good, so I asked her for a Turtle recommendation. Carapace worked well. She thought Queen Bee could redeem herself, so we gave Chloé a shot.”

   “Why did you replace them?” Chat Noir asked. “If Marinette suggested them, why would you change your mind?”

   “They stopped being reliable.” Ladybug shrugged, twirling her yoyo. “They left Marinette alone to be isolated. They let their friend be threatened by a liar, and when Marinette finally admitted it to me? I can’t have people who act like that.”

   “Did she recommend us?” Protecteur asked, and Ladybug smiled.

   “You three were the first people she could think of, and she had shining recommendations for all three.”    She saw the way they reacted. Monarch smiled, Protecteur beamed, Fennec looked ready to have a stroke...and Chat Noir seemed pensive, eyes searching for something.

   Marinette went to class the next day, and things had changed. For some reason, Max, Kim, and Alix were being extra nice to her. For some reason, Adrien spoke directly to her, despite having shied away the moment Alya got mad. For some reason, she felt like she was being watched. It was more than usual, more than when Lila first spread the rumor that Marinette was a hero scout.

   But it didn’t click on why until Kagami spelled it out during lunch.

   “They want to be heroes, too,” Kagami muttered, inching closing to the bluenette. Luka dropped into the spot beside her, and Nathaniel quickly sat across from them, setting his bag in the last remaining spot.

   “So they think I can help with that?” Marinette questioned, an eyebrow raising.

   “You are a hero scout,” Nathaniel pointed out, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. “If you deem someone worthy, Ladybug will give them the Miraculous.”

   Marinette glanced around, saw the way Kim eyed her, expression eager as he waved excitedly.

   Of course. Her one time Roi Singe...and the Pegasus and Bunnix to follow. They knew she had a say, and so they were sucking up to her.

   Marinette turned her gaze away, focusing on her true friends. “I only tell Ladybug about the real heroes,” she muttered, missing the way her three friends blushed.

   That night, she was itching to create, and so she did. A monkey inspired sweatband, with a tiny, comical version of Xuppu stitched on the inside. It only took a few hours, and Marinette was happy with it.

   Kim jogged up to her as she walked into the classroom, still beaming. “Hey, Marinette!” He said happily, as if he hadn’t ignored her, too. “Want to hangout soon? I have a track competition, you should come see it!”

“I can’t,” Marinette replied dismissively, “but here’s a good luck gift.” She pressed the sweatband into his palm, and watched him stumble as he realized what it meant.

“Oh...okay,” he said with a frown, deflated and hurt. He moped over to his seat, allowing Max to console him.

By lunchtime, Max seemed nervous, glancing at Marinette with panicked eyes. He seemed to be calculating, consulting Markov. Whatever he realized, it was enough to set him on edge.

   Two days later, he was sure of his results. Marinette came up to him, and she smiled coldly.

   “I made you these,” she said, and set a pair of sunglasses in his hands. “I thought you’d like them.” She turned, ignoring the way his eyes dropped, and then paused. “And don’t worry, they’ll protect your eyes from dangerous napkins.”

   Later that day, Marinette would sit at home and laugh at her comment, then continue on to start one of her final gifts.

   Her class was chaotic. Half of them followed her around like she was Lila, trying to do favors for her, trying to get into her good graces, trying to be someone special in her eyes. Many of them stayed far away, however, hiding from her sight, unsure if they should hate her or hate themselves, unsure what went wrong, unsure of what to do.

   And then she had her actual friends. Nathaniel, Luka, Kagami…

   And, according to the school, Ladybug.

   Alix became pushier. The young girl practically bounced like a rabbit as she’d follow Marinette around, trying to prove herself. She thought she was in the clear, that the future was set in stone. She owned the watch, after all, so it was rightfully hers, right?

   Marinette presented her with a hat, light blue with a little white pom pom on top, and Alix froze.

   Later that day, Ladybug made a trip to Alix’s house, and she left a perfect replica of the watch behind. Perfect, of course, except for the lack of a certain bunny-themed Kwami.

   Alix didn’t show up for school the next day, and Marinette didn’t bat an eye.

   Just like that, her team was complete, and justice had been served.

   But Marinette wasn’t done.

   No, because there was one last thing to do. One little thing.

   Marinette donned the Mouse, one last time. She split herself up, until a dozen little Multimice were running through the school. She snuck into each class, gathering information. Looking for future options.

   And playing her final card in the game she’d been playing for months.

   Her class was silent as Miss Bustier took attendance, eyes on their teacher as Multimouse slipped underneath the door.

   “Marinette?” Miss Bustier asked, eyes curious, and Multimouse raised her hand, as if on autopilot.

   “Here!” Her little voice squeaked out, and then she gasped, covering her mouth.

   But it was too late, she’d been ‘found’. Miss Bustier stared, wide-eyed, crouching down to see her student on the floor.

   “M- Marinette?” Miss Bustier asked, and Multimouse shook her head.

   “No, no, of course not!” But it was too late, wasn’t it? Marinette was never a good liar, was she?

   “You’re Multimouse?!” Alya shouted the question, hands slamming onto her desk. Lila, beside her, stared, but the stare quickly turned into a dangerous glare.

   “I, uh,” Multimouse sighed, curling in on herself. “Fuck.” She turned to face Miss Bustier. “I...I guess I’ll explain, but just wait a second. I’d rather do this at full height.”

   “Okay?” Miss Bustier nodded, still baffled. “What do you need?”

   “Oh, just my other me’s. They should be here right about now.” As if on cue (oh they were definitely on cue), the other Multimice came darting under the door, making their way to Multimouse. They went up to her, quickly combining into one normal-sized Multimouse.

   “Woah,” Nathaniel whispered, eyes shining with excitement. The rest of the class seemed to feel the same, any negative feelings forgotten (well, except for one certain girl) in the moment.

   “Why were there so many?” Rose asked, eyes searching for any others that may have stayed small. “What were they- you- doing?”

   Multimouse laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious? I’ve heard the rumors, guys, I know what you think.”

   She watched how they paused, how their mouths dropped and their eyes widened.

   “You were looking for new heroes?” Adrien asked, speaking up for once in his life, and Multimouse shrugged.

   “Ladybug wanted new blood. Sent me out to search. She’s done it a few times, dropping the Miraculous off so I could get stuff done.” She looked to Miss Bustier with the sweetest, most innocent smile she could ever give, and said, “I hope you understand why I’m late so often. I couldn’t exactly tell you the truth, it’s supposed to be a secret after all.”

   “Of course,” Miss Bustier said, and Multimouse smiled wider.

   (So maybe it’s a partial lie, but Marinette was sick of getting detention for saving the goddamn city every day.)

   “How long has this been going on?” Alya asked, hands shaking as she held onto her desk, as she struggled to not grab her phone.

   Multimouse made a show of pausing, of tapping her finger to her chin before smiling. “I’ve been sneaking around since Carapace’s debut. After that, Ladybug wanted me to search more often. It helped her get a grasp of what goes on in the world. She can’t have eyes everywhere, but I can.” She giggled, then frowned. “It’s been tough, having to hide this for so long. I had to hide from Chat Noir, too, in the beginning, in case he got possessed. If he only focused on Ladybug, he couldn’t go after me during my secret missions. I nearly lost the ability to use the Miraculous when I revealed my identity to him...oh no.”

   “What?” Adrien asked. “What’s wrong?”

   “I suppose Ladybug won’t use me any longer.” Multimouse hugged herself, looking out the window. “She can’t, not anymore.”

   “Why not?” Nathaniel asked, looking hurt.

   “You all know my identity. I can’t be a hero, it isn’t safe. Especially when Ladybug’s stalker- shit.”

   Like a conductor of an orchestra, Multimouse played them once more. She struggled to hold back her smirk as the class went berserk once more.

   “She has a stalker?” Adrien asked, slamming his hands on the desk. “Who is it?”

   Multimouse shrunk back. “It- it’s not my place to say. Ladybug said to be nice, that she can fight her own battles.”

   “Is someone hurting her?” Nino asked, and Multimouse just took another step back. “Who?”

   “I really shouldn’t-” but the class is wild now, and they want the truth. So Multimouse sighed and pulled on her jump rope, opening up a hidden phone. “Alright, I’ll call her.” She hit a few buttons, then nodded. “She’ll be here soon. I should go...Ladybug will want the Miraculous back.” One last sad look to her class, and then she leaped out of the window, sneaking up to the roof.

   One quick change later, Ladybug hopped into the classroom, eyes narrowed.

   This time, Alya pulled out the phone, finally unable to control her desire for footage. “Ladybug! Ma-”

   “Multimouse,” Ladybug cut off quickly.

   “Multimouse told us that you have a stalker?” Alya asked. “Who is it?”

   Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you know? You put her on your blog every single week, after all.”

   Alya froze, and so did Lila.

   “I- I’m not-” Lila tried to start, but Ladybug was ready.

   “Lila Rossi has been claiming many things since she got to Paris. I’ve heard claims of her being Volpina, a superhero. I’ve heard her claim that she was a better hero than me, and that she and I are best friends. She’s been Akumatized multiple times, and I’m not quite so sure whether or not it’s just to get close to me. She has tormented my scout, ostracizing her and claiming that I would support her, that I would listen to her. Lila Rossi has created an illusion in her mind that I owe her my friendship, and that my scout has done her wrong, and I would never trust someone like her.” She glared at the girl, at the camera. “There is one good thing Lila Rossi has done. She has been a wonderful test for my previous temporaries in order to see where their loyalties are. Other than that, she has been stalking me, creating up stories, and ruining lives.” She glared at Alya. “Now, if that’s all you want, I must go find my scout. She seemed rather upset, and I’d rather not fight my favorite civilian.”

   Then she left the room, and she didn’t come back for the rest of the day. Instead she stayed home, claiming she felt sick, and let herself relax.

   She created her final design.

   When Marinette came into class the next day, she wore a beautiful pink dress, embroidered with little gray mice. The message was clear, and Nathaniel seemed disappointed. Adrien did, too, but Marinette wasn’t sure why.

   She was greeted with apologies, with promises to be better. With questions, wondering how she’d managed to be Multimouse for so long without raising suspicion. With admiration, as their friends realized who the true friend of Ladybug was.

   And Marinette just turned away, turned to her true chosen heroes.

   Later that day, rumors of a heroine in a dragon’s red were heard, and if Ladybug was suspiciously absent…

   Well, the other heroes enjoyed patrolling with their scout, and the world was right for one more day.  ----- And with that, I have finally written this fic! Thank you to @liamnl for letting me use this idea, it was really fun! (To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to end it, so I figured Marinette could get her last revenge and call out Lila once and for all.) I hope you all enjoyed it! <3

[lesbian-kyoru]

What do you think is each character's favorite subject in school?

tohru: not a surprise but baby girl loves home ec!! kind of has to work her butt off studying for her other classes, so she gets to enjoy herself and do something she’s naturally super good at in home ec. loves making little snacks in class for her friends and then sharing them at lunch. the sewing unit takes her fashion game to the next level. when they do a project where they take care of fake babies, she definitely ends up caring for half of the class’s infants like they’re her own. kyo is her partner and everyone teases them about it but she still has a really nice time and thinks kyo would be a great dad :’)) highest home ec grade of all time in their school

kyo: says his favorite is PE but it’s actually math. gets a 5 on the AP calc exam. tells no one but tohru, who then tells everyone and kazuma throws a party and kyo is Not Pleased. isn’t a great math tutor though because he can’t really explain how he gets his answers—he just Knows. checks tohru’s homework for her before she turns it in (read: fixes all her wrong answers when she’s not looking so he can see her huge smile when she gets a good grade back. only feels a little bit guilty). watches math tedtalks. nerd disguised as a jock

yuki: favorite subject is lit!! bullshits his way through class discussions and papers without ever actually reading the books because he’s smart and charismatic. has a premium account on sparknotes. favorite class specifically was one on ancient greek literature and epic poetry—spent the entirety of the class critiquing heteronormative readings of the iliad and taking the piss out of other students because “achilles and patroclus are clearly gay if you have eyes”

kakeru: …...i’ll be real he doesn’t like school lmao. senioritis personified. on his phone during classes constantly. laptop open playing world of warcraft or candy crush or neopets. could not tell you anything the teacher said in the last hour. doesn’t take notes because “i’ve got it all up here yun-yun…..” but doesn’t actually do half-bad on tests. only reason he does homework is because he can pretend to study with yuki while actually just flirting with him. if there’s one subject he doesn’t hate it’s history because he “thinks the fight scenes are fun” (yuki: “you mean world war 1??” “yeah it was exciting”)

uo: autoshop. hates the stereotype that just because she’s a lesbian she must like tools and machinery and automotive tech.....having said that she is a lesbian and she does like tools and machinery and automotive tech. gets a 100 on her project where she fixes a busted up motorcycle, and now she has two motorcycles. all the boys in the class call her senpai and worship the ground she walks on. smells faintly like motor oil all the time but she Absolutely makes it work

hana: creative writing. school is not her thing but she thrives in creative writing because her creativity is 100/10 and her stories are absolutely off the walls. excels in writing spooky yet also homoerotic ghost stories in particular. reads them aloud in class with the lights turned off and a flashlight illuminating her face. has made students cry out of fear. shigure beta-reads her writing. likes to subtly imply that her stories actually happened to fuck with kyo. it works

momiji: band/orchestra!! all the older students lose their minds over how well he can play. first chair violinist from day one. has a solo in every concert; tohru sits front row and films them, always cries. he’s the life of the party at Band Camp(™). even the grumpy bass clarinetists like him. doesn’t get in trouble when he talks waaaaay too much during rehearsal because the teacher loves him

haru: mr space cadet himself isn’t much of a science guy but LOVES astronomy. gets Ds on pretty much every test but he doesn’t care because his mind is expanding. buys a super nice telescope so he can look at constellations at 3 in the morning. develops very specific opinions about each planet. stans the moon. gets really into sleeping at last’s astronomy-themed album. becomes that guy whose personality is “i like space” until the class is over and then he never talks about it again

rin: art! she takes several art classes throughout high school. really loves drawing and painting, but also really likes doing ceramics projects because she likes working with her hands :’)) does a watercolor portrait for tohru as a graduation gift but gets really flustered when tohru sobs into her arms over how beautiful it is. also secretly likes doing little doodles of her and haru—he sees them once in her sketchbook and will never let her live it down

kagura: says her favorite is PE and it actually is PE. goes ham for capture the flag, tends to play too rough when capturing and gets taken out of the game. only person who is actually good at volleyball so she is constantly spiking, setting, and diving for the ball all in the same game, while the rest of her team just kind of fumbles around and tries to stay out of her way. gets first place every time they run the mile even though it’s definitely not a competition. definitely knows her mile time even though it is not a timed activity

hiro: this kid screams history nerd, but like Male History Nerd with a niche interest in military history and very specific opinions about how *insert historical figure* wasn’t actually all that bad. gets his ass handed to him in class discussions on the daily but won’t admit it. is genuinely really smart and has Better Opinions by the time he graduates, so he starts using his history nerd powers For Good as an adult—as in, arguing about inaccurate historical memes on facebook in his free time

kisa: choir. singing stresses her out, but she’s figured out that she can just mouth the words and no one can tell that she’s not actually singing! loves being in the group and hearing the beautiful music around her :’)) everyone is in awe of how cute she is in her lil choir robe. tohru comes to all of kisa’s concerts as well and films them from the front row, also while crying

machi: woodshop. gets sawdust on her clothes and loves the smell. obsessed with digging through piles of splintering and warped scrap wood. loses her damn mind when she gets to use the jigsaw. really enjoys making like…misshapen birdhouses and crooked tables, but woodshop is mostly participation grades anyway so her teacher gives her A’s on all of her grotesque wood creations. she is at peace and is One with the Wood. doesn’t wear safety goggles while chopping wood because she likes Risk

kimi: loves speech & drama. emphasis on the drama. it’s a chance to talk for a long time and everyone has to look at her and listen to her or else they’ll fail!! which is how she likes it. goes three minutes over for every speech but the teacher can’t get her to pause long enough to stop her. comes to auditions in a full professionally-made costume. knows her lines and everyone else’s

nao: AP statistics on the pre-accounting track. has known he wants to be an accountant since he was in diapers. does slightly below average in the class. still studies accounting in college because it’s too big a part of his personality to quit at this point. becomes an accountant. never quite feels fulfilled

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: that’s pretty knit 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: rurikawa yuki/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.9k words, 1 image

𝐚𝐧: yuki birthday month, yuki fic. ahaha i am very direct with my titles again. what’s new? because of the research i did, i’m probably gonna go order some knitting materials online now

Perhaps you spent too much time at the nearest arts and crafts store. For a dozen or so minutes you stood in one spot, unmoving unless someone needed to pass by you, your eyes flitting up and down, left and right as you debated over the different assortments of yarn.

You already had an inkling the different colours would overwhelm you— with so many different colours and different shades each, how could you possibly limit yourself to just one? You didn’t expect to be this troubled with choosing among different yarn weights, too. Why did the store give you 7 different choices? How were you supposed to know if choosing light yarn was better than choosing bulky yarn?

… you seriously should have done more research, but the prospect of finally having free time to visit the shop overshadowed any semblance of rationality you previously possessed.

Look at you now.

Alright, Plan A— scope out the area for the friendliest looking employee and muster up the courage to ask for help, plain and simple.

Except things don’t always go as planned.

When you hear your name come from a voice behind you, it was impossible not to figure out who it was that caught you. You’re just a little bit upset and a little bit tense because of all people to come across at this moment, it had to be Yuki? It’s not that you dislike him, rather it’s because the opposite is true that you found yourself more pressed than you should be.

It was like buying a surprise gift for someone and that exact someone seeing you buy that gift… actually, that was pretty much the situation— the only differing variable being that the gift hasn’t even been created yet.

Seriously, you just had to come across the very person you were planning on making something for?

“Yuki-kun! What are you doing here?”

He gave you a blank stare, as if waiting for you to realise how dumb your question was. Rurikawa Yuki? In a crafts store? Unless you wanted something specific, the answer should have been plenty obvious.

“Hah? I want to buy materials to make clothes, obviously,” he replied, tilting his head to gesture towards his shopping basket filled with various beads, lace, and… were those feathers? Was he just replenishing stock and were those all for one outfit? Curiosity was getting the better of you, mouth already poised to ask a follow-up question before he interrupted you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?”

To any deities out there, grant you a smidge of acting prowess, or at the very least the ability to make some half-truths and get away with it.

You awkwardly let out a laugh, your eyes leaving Yuki as they dragged themselves back towards the shelves.

“I’m supposed to make a scarf for someone,” an omission of information, but technically the truth, “but I don’t know which yarn to pick?”

For a few seconds Yuki stared at you with narrowed eyes, ultimately letting out a sigh as he placed his own items on the tiled floor, facing the same direction as you.

“Any colour you want?”

Taking the opportunity to resolve one of your main problems, you quickly told him that he could choose any colour he wanted. Haha, you were so slick getting Yuki to choose the material he’d like the most. If you somehow screwed up the knitting process, at least he’d like the colour, right?

“Didn’t you do any research?” Yuki asked, sifting through the pale pink yarns to look for the appropriate weight.

“Not really,” you admitted sheepishly, “I mean, I just saw the steps were easy enough and decided to give it a try.”

“I-di-ot~” he said in a sing-song voice, but despite the nickname you knew there was underlying affection there somewhere, “one skein of super-bulky yarn would be the easiest to work with, then you probably need a crochet hook and 9 mm knitting needles too…”

You follow the green-haired boy as he moves to a different aisle, picking up the supplies you inevitably would have had trouble choosing between.

“Really, you could have just asked me, if you’re so clueless. I’d help you out.”

“No way!” you suddenly exclaimed, earning yourself front row tickets to Yuki’s look of confusion, “I can do it myself!”

You hoped your sudden outburst didn’t come off as rude, but he seemed to just push the matter away nonchalantly.

“Suddenly getting so loud, what’s with you…” he muttered, dropping the things he picked up for you atop your waiting hands, “but that’s fine. The scarf won’t be as cute as if I helped you, but maybe it’ll turn out decent at least.”

You clutched the materials to your chest, already anticipating being able to prove Yuki wrong. How would he react the moment he knew the person you were knitting something for was him?

“I’ll show it to you when I’m done!” you promised, “I need your seal of approval, after all!”

He’d probably point out any issues regardless, so you just had to make sure you did your absolute best!

Knitting took a lot more effort than you anticipated. First of all, you had to do something called a cast on around the needle? Apparently the wrap cast on was great for beginners, but you weren’t gonna lie— it did take you one whole article from some “The Queen of Yarn” blogspot and one 5 minute YouTube tutorial just to make sure you were on the right track.

One. Slip knot: loop the yarn around your fingers clockwise, the yarn attached to the ball going under the loop, slid off your fingers and slipped onto the needle.

It wasn’t that the steps were particularly difficult. Rather, it was constantly making sure you weren’t accidentally skipping any steps or areas due to not paying too much attention.

Two. Open the loop to make a stitch: hold the empty needle with your dominant hand, and the needle with the slip knot in the other. Slip the empty needle into the first loop— from front to back.

Still, it was difficult to stop your thoughts from wandering— perhaps you should have chosen to listen to some kind of tea spill or podcast or comedy routine or anything with words instead of the LoFi ChillHop live stream playing from your phone. You were going to give Yuki a scarf— then what?

Three. Wrap the yarn: go counter-clockwise, the working yarn sliding between both of the needles.

You had a crush on Yuki, plain and simple, but it’d be embarrassing to just admit it! The amount of courage you had still needed replenishing, what with the amount you used up to just go up to him and try befriending him a couple of months back. What if you confessed, and he decided not only was your scarf ugly, he wouldn’t be friends with you anymore as well?

Four. Turn the stitch: slide the dominant-hand needle from the back to the front of the other needle.

But would it be enough to just pass off the garment as a, “thank you for being my friend” gift? Especially when there was no real occasion, and the hours you put in into making him something— would he question it?

Five. Finish the stitch: slide the dominant-hand needle up so that the first loop on the other needle slides off. Move on to the next loop, do the same thing, repeating until you are out of stitches.

Well, even with all of Yuki’s bluntness, he was still kind so he’d probably still be your friend! It’d still really hurt if he rejected you though, so maybe you should put off implying anything more than platonic between you two for… a while. Maybe it was too soon?

Looking at the progress you made, you were unable to hold in a groan of defeat. The pale pink yarn against the bamboo needle looked pretty and neat; there was an issue though.

One row. You were only able to do one row so far.

Your phone clock said it was still pretty early into the afternoon. Well, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt anything except your hands, right?

A hand therapy site told you that pain brought by needlework was probably due to repetition of motion, bad posture, and or general fatigue. Not gonna lie, you probably fit into all three— the last one maybe more so than others.

How long one took to knit varied— some dedicating days, while others were able to crank out 5 scarves a day. A part of you was proud to be able to procure something presentable and wearable in one sitting.

…

You’re just choosing to omit the fact that that one sitting lasted until 3 am, but what Yuki doesn’t know? Won’t hurt him.

Thanking your singular brain cell right now that you decided to do this project over the weekend instead of during a school day— you’re unsure if you’d even be able to survive at all if you actually had to do maths and stuff the day after.

Deciding to just go with the flow, you found yourself folding the scarf as neatly as you could, gingerly placing it inside a paper bag. After all, you agreed to “have him judge” your creation today.

In all honesty, you thought you had built up the confidence to confess your crush to Yuki. If he reciprocated, good for you! If he didn’t, well, either you take it cooly or go ‘I said I liked you as a friend thing, silly!”

Standing in front of him though, his orange eyes scrutinising the pale pink scarf, made you lose your words, hesitation standing in its stead.

“Garter stitch…”

“What do you think, Yuki-kun?” you asked, peering at the green haired boy curiously as you impatiently awaited his verdict.

“I’m honestly surprised you made something nice,”

“Hey—“

“But for beginner, it’s pretty good,” he complimented, “actually, I can see myself wearing it when it gets colder—“

Even with such simple words, you felt your heart swell in happiness. Not only did he say he liked it, but he even went as far as to say he’d wear it? There were so many ways to get your gratitude across, to tell Yuki your true intentions in ‘asking for his approval’. With all of your options, you went with

“If you like it, it’s yours!”

“Hey, you…”

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond. Actually, you can relate to that because even you’re befuddled by your wording. Didn’t it make it seem like you gifted it to him as an afterthought?

“I mean, well that’s not what I meant,” you hurriedly followed up, “I wanted to give it to you from the start? I didn’t know if it’d be nice though so if you said it was ugly I would’ve hidden it from the world? You said you would wear it though so—“

“This won’t do…” Yuki replied, interrupting your impending rambling. Before you could ask him what he meant, he pulls your hand to lead you inside the dormitories.

Unbeknownst to you, pink the same shade of your... his scarf painted his cheeks. If only the weather was fit for the garment you gave, he’d be able to blame the sudden colour on the cold.

“Come on, I need to get your measurements.”

It was difficult to keep the silly grin off of your face afterwards.

want to order again?

[kth1]

Crosscurrents [Hoseok X Reader] Part 2

Crosscurrents - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: The Little Mermaid AU | Fantasy AU | Series Pairing: Mermaid!Hoseok x Princess!Reader Featuring: BTS Princes Warnings: Angst, fluff, rated G, sorry no smut, mentions of pain, eventual character death, it’s just a fantasy story. pining, angsty? W/C: 8.8k Summary: Hoseok is a carefree middle child among seven princes, each running one of the seven seas. With a curious nature to study the world above, he makes several routine visits to the surface, once even saving an alluring princess who he grows very smitten by. With a strong determination to meet his lovely princess, Hoseok makes a risky deal with the ocean’s enchantress to become human. Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait, but I am still very happy about this story. Now finals and my semester is over - I can continue updating. Thank you all who support me. Portions of the fic is unedited. 🐚🧜‍♂️

Credits: Story includes strong elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; and Michiko Yokote’s manga ‘Mermaid Melody’.

☀ CROSSCURRENT MASTERLIST ☀

The aqua prince now knew where his beloved princess lived, after revisiting the area nearly every evening after the first time. He often would approach closer to the land each time, venturing further than any of his brothers ever had to the shoreline. As Hoseok still remembered the touch of dry sand on his slimy tail, the foreign air of fresh land right under his body.

Daringly, the carefree and curious prince even swam up the narrow channel that led under the marble balcony that belonged to the princess. During bright moonlit nights he would only invite himself here so he could watch the princess stare off into the sea, where she believed she was all alone. Little did she know, she had a secret admirer in awe from below.

Human beings in general became more and more dear to Hoseok. Days of eavesdropping on humans within the green reeds of the bank who were sailing the water, listening to their stories and conversations in hiding. Stumbling upon fishermen who casted their nets near the beacon’s light, and if anyone on the dock noticed the rustling of his long aqua tail that treaded water, they excused the sounds to wallowing gulls.

Hoseok was happy when he reminisced about the time he had saved the young princess, hearing about her noble actions and performances. She was told of having a heavenly way with her ballroom dance, knowing several styles of movement. He wished he could see her act with his own eyes and to show her one of his.

In time, Hoseok wished that he were one of them; a human that is. Their large world seemed much extravagant than that of the mer-people. Humans can fly above the ocean in their ships, they can ride around in these carriages pulled by large animals called horses, even humans could climb to the top of those beautiful snow tipped mountains that poked their peaks above the clouds. The land they stand on outstretched further than Hoseok could ever imagine, and there was a whole world around him that he wishes to learn about. He had many dreams and desires, his mind craved explanations.

“Do men live forever? Do they die just as us? How long of a life do they live? What happens to them when they pass?”

Hoseok knows these answers for his species, he knows what happens among merfolk and especially what shall happen with royalty. They become foam on the sea, diminish into bubbles into the water. When one royal dies, another is birthed.

These ongoing thoughts horded the capacity of Hoseok’s naïve mind. His passion for above became a sudden obsession, that princess became more of a worship. “Maybe I’ll get some more answers tonight,” he thought as he travels with the current to the north Pacific Ocean, home of the playful salmon pink Prince Jimin.

This lovely evening, we have a court ball. A ball which held dancing mermen and mermaids to the melodies of the singers and composers. A watering hole of very thick crystal walls, so clear and pristine that the illuminating lights from mussel-shells which decorated in rows along them blared through effortlessly. Numberless fish and folk who swam through the lights would flash their glorious colored tails that amplified within these beams.

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook all danced wonderfully. Linking arms together and with others, displaying their methodologies. They shared many dances with men and women, children even.

Lights gleamed like a galaxy in the subterranean sea, all sparkling like the stars in the night sky. Beautiful pinks, greens, and purples garnished the saloon, ravishing plants and twines tangled around pillars.

The sweet sensual voices of Seokjin and Taehyung filled the room in a magical duet. Back-up singers harmonizing along with their symphony as Namjoon and Yoongi remained lost in their own worlds of instruments.

Jimin twirled around the aqua prince’s tail like a feather, light and soft. Prince Jimin’s eyes were brighter than any blue tail that ever existed, a translucent aquamarine color – no – a luminous crystal blue. A mesmerizing shimmer tinted the orbs in the sunlight as how a cracked geode rock would sparkle.

His hair, much like his tail and lips, were mixes of rose, coral and peaches. Shades fading in and out of another elegantly. He was such a bubbly child – bashful even as everyone could recall times the young Prince would grow embarrassed and the rising pink of his skin would soon match his tail. Jimin danced the best contemporary dance in all of the seas, naturally wiggling his body in expert stretches.

“How have you been, brother?” He hushed his words through a wave of his arms, continuing to dance along to the music with Hoseok. “You look… different.”

Hoseok matched Jimin’s movement, picking up the pace to a slow tempo. “I’ve been doing well.”

The words fell bleakly between the two, Jimin realizing that there was no enthusiasm resonating from Hoseok – no energetic fields sparkling through the waters. Jimin’s intuition can pick up the sudden change of behavior, and he grew nervous for the reasons why his older brother insisted on lying to his face.

“It’s not polite to fib – especially about your feelings.”

Hoseok grabbed ahold of Jimin’s wrist, spinning the pink tailed merman in a quick fluid motion. Dancing around having a private conversation was difficult when they were surrounded with several fish who are also doing the same. A curious ear could overhear them, and Hoseok did not wish to share his secrets to the public.

By the spin of Jimin, Hoseok’s eye catches something – rather, something missing. The chain that snugged around Jimin’s slim waist was colorless, missing its shining pink bead.

“Where is your pearl?” the aqua prince distressed.

Jimin’s crystal eyes avoided Hoseok’s almond ones, swallowing thickly as a shade of pink started breaking through at the tips of his ears. “Come brother, I must show you something.”

Whilst the mermen, mermaids, and fish were still dancing and singing in the palace, the two troublesome brothers stole away past the walls of the pink palace. Swimming freely into the open ocean while being accompanied by their little companions.

Kiko deliberately begged Hoseok to remain back in Jimin’s home, not wanting to cause another mishap event of a storm like the one that happened times prior to when anyone has upset the Mer-King. But the merman ignored his friend, insisting that everything will be alright.

“Jimin where are you taking me?”

“Just a bit further – I promise you will be surprised.”

Soon enough Jimin led Hoseok into a lengthy cave, a narrow cavern filled with sumptuous jewels, gems, and stones. A pleasure-loving treasure of a chamber that was hollowed out, and in the cavity of the cave – past the dark spaces and cracks – they peered up into a grotto. Crystalline formations that grew down from the ceiling, limestones, calcium carbonate and other minerals lined the walls and rocks.

The scene before them was a magical starry canvas. Nothing in any of their realms nor the human world looked better or more extravagant than this place.

“I found this place when I was little, following a stubborn little marine invertebrate.” Jimin narrowed his eyes down at his sticky pet starfish, Bo, that was latching onto his shoulder. “This little guy was a feisty one, but I’m forever grateful that he led me here. Just look.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened around him, eyebrows shot high into his hairline. His thoughts were all about the mystical creations around him until Jimin cut his train of thought.

“It’s what happens when two worlds connect, the sea and the land.” Jimin admired around with a soft smile on his lips.

“Two worlds?” he wondered. “But wait – this doesn’t explain where your pearl is? You have it don’t you? You can’t lose it!”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I do not have my pearl.”

Hoseok hovered around, looking at all the jewels and gems that surrounded the two mermen. Anxiety rising from his fins, “Jimin your palace –“

“Is still in great condition, is it not?”

In fact, Jimin’s kingdom was in fantastic shape. Even with the lack of his magical pearl. The ball was extravagant, faces were happy, and his realm was healthy and clear.

“It is.” Hoseok confirmed. “But how?”

Jimin smiled gleefully, satisfied and at complete ease as he hopped up his thin body onto a rock. The pink prince shrugged, “I’m not sure actually. Maybe they aren’t as powerful as we were told. Though they are one of a kind.” Jimin stared at the pearl that dangled off Hoseok’s ear.

“I like to think that they work for anyone who has a good heart. They keep the realm alive with their being.”

Curious, Hoseok pushed for further explanation. “So, if you don’t have it then… you gave it to someone else?”

“Mhm.”

“Jimin?! You can’t just do that – do you have suds in your brain!?”

Jimin’s eyes crinkled with his wide cutesy smile, unbothered at the world. Innocence exuding out from his face. “Perhaps.”

The cavern twinkled around the reflecting lights, blossoming of precious stones and glows from each crevice of the room. Hoseok’s voice echoed off the structured walls along with the silence drips of the moistened stalactites that elongated from the top.

“Who did you give it to?” Hoseok was furious, getting ready to blow up on his younger pink scaled brother until a shuffling noise distracted him, causing him to twist his head in the direction of the sound.

“Her.” Jimin drew his breath in, watching a shadowed movement draw closer. A padding of feet rushed their way into the corner of the grotto where an opening that was not seen before now was. Entered, a small child, with curly blonde and frizzy hair as light as the clouds, stepped in view. She bared her feet, stepping on the smooth flooring below her in a flowing flower sundress.

Hoseok was quick to duck for cover – trying to pull his brother along but remained puzzled how he refused to move. Jimin sat proudly atop his perch, staring at the young child who’s face lit up with merriment.

“Jiminie!” she squeals. “You came to visit me!”

Frightened, Hoseok sunk further below the water. This is going against everything, why is Jimin speaking to a human? Why did he give his pearl to her? He angrily whispered towards the ditzy prince that waved his arm towards the child, “What are you doing!?”

“I’ve brought a friend, little one! Would you care to meet him?” Jimin outstretched his hand towards his brother who hid behind a rock who returned glare at him. Seeing the disproving stare from Hoseok, he spoke down towards to him, “She’s safe, believe me.”

The curious kid stepped closer to the edge of the grotto, before the land dipped into the water as she waited with anticipation. She pondered the words her friendly pink merman spoke, eyes full of wonder as she looked over to him.

Hesitantly Hoseok poked his head out slowly, making eye contact with the blonde bundle of curls. She stood on her tiptoes with excitement, seeing another pretty face that blended well with the sparkling cave. “Hello!” she squeaked.

It felt uncanny, so unnatural for Hoseok to be approached by a creature with legs and not fins. An unreal wave of relief washed over the merman as the child’s instant presence seemed pure. “Hello.”

“Are you a prince like Jiminie? Are you pink like him too?” She questioned, now landing herself on her knees so she can creep closer to the water. Jimin gleamed with amusement, adoring the young little human who he grew acquainted with over time.

Jimin felt the passion within this little being, relating her curiosity of the sea with Hoseok’s interests with the land. In many ways these two were very much alike and he was ecstatic for them to meet.

For the first time this night, Jimin witnessed a genuine smile turnup on Hoseok’s lips. The aqua tailed man moved toward the small being who knelt by the edge. He flipped his tail up out of the water, flashing his fins with a loud splash. Trickles of water cascaded from the air onto surrounding areas of terrain causing the child to giggle.

“Precisely, I am a prince just as Jimin.”

Jimin swam up besides his brother, guiding him closer to the little girl. He smiled towards her as he raised his hand for her to meet his. Together they connected, her little hand much smaller than Jimin’s and a small glow of gold originated between their touch. “See – she’s good. I trust her.”

At closer inspection Hoseok noticed the chain around the child’s neck that had a glass trinket which encased a pink pearl – Jimin’s unique bead. That too glowed a radiating gold shimmer.

“I wish I had a pretty tail like you two!” She looked mournfully at the two clumsy props of bare legs she owned. “Silly legs!” She shouted down with a huff.

“Oh, but with a tail – you could not get back home.” Jimin tested. “We wouldn’t want that now. You’d miss your parents, your family. Even your bed.” He smirked, teasing the little girl.

Hoseok stood witness as he watched the interaction between human and merman. It wasn’t quite like how his interaction was with his beautiful princess back home, but there was a sincere aura radiating between the two that gave him hope for something.

“What color would I have, I wonder!” Her wide eyes scanned both of the mermen’s faces, taking in their distinctive differences.

Jimin smiled wide, eyes forming crescents. “Oh darling, I think pink would suite you very well. A beautiful plush pink for the young angel.” He pokes her nose.

“We should head back before it gets too late. I will visit another time, alright? Keep my gift safe and sound!” Jimin bid the pouting child farewell before descending down back the narrow crevices they entered.

They swam leisurely back to Jimin’s palace, Jimin humming melodic tunes to himself. The clear water was waving like a light breeze, the seabed littered with various plants and scrubs of all colorations.

“Why’d you give her your pearl?” Hoseok questioned out in the blue.

Jimin spun himself around, looking up towards the plane of water way high above the floating mermen. “She is true. I grew to know her over time. I feel no threat from her, and I trust she won’t speak of me to others. I want her to always remember me.”

Hoseok’s thoughts soon returned to the world above him as he could not forget his beauteous princess. And he could not control his craving to meet her. Experiencing a merman and human interact as Jimin did with his, Hoseok was sure he could trust the lovely woman he is fascinated with. Deep down in his heart he hopes she will be accepting of him.

One thing stood out from is encounter with Jimin and the little girl. What struck him was how she wished to be a mermaid – one with a beautiful scaly tail. Why would she dream this when she had legs?

Hoseok hovered around his human-decorative study again, a place he consistently escaped to when he had the free time. He eyed the handheld mirror, the compass that lost its pointing needle giving the device worthlessness, even feathering his fingers through the chest full of useless goods. He stumbled upon a painting, a portrait of a bright and sunny day with land lovers dancing on a street. Building’s surrounding the pairs that were grouped together in a gestured dance.

It then hit him, “A pair of legs for a tail – and a tail for legs.” He grumbled to himself looking down at his slimy speckled tail, fins and all. Kiko who has been loitering around the area shifted towards her merman, “Hoseok…”

“I have an idea Kiko, though you may not like it.”

“When do I ever?”

Hoseok snickered, sighing down at his dazzling leafy sea-friend. He brushes his hands through her leaves, scratching underneath Kiko’s keel. “I’m more grateful than you may think. Please don’t be upset with me.”

Kiko rested in the hands of Hoseok, shimmying herself comfortable. The look in her eyes showed regret and worry, though she waited for her prince – her friend – to continue his thoughts.

“I must travel past the whirlpool. Where the seagrass nor flowers bloomed – grey sands expanding to heavens know where. Where waters were dark, whizzing around in strong forces. To the current that doesn’t connect to ours, the abyss down below. I need to go to the enchantress.”

“No!” Kiko jolted, frantically shaking her leaves. “You can’t! You know that. She’s a demon, a – a monster!”

“I’m going. The witch will be able to help. She’s the only one who could advise me.”

The thought of seeing his princess on two legs gave Hoseok the courage he needed to proceed with his foolish actions. He had traveled to where no merfolk dared to go. Advancing his body though the tough of the whirlpool – pass the boiling under gasses, a thick heavily bog that shrouded the turf.

The enchantress lived in a horrid place, all the trees and bushes were gloomy and of dying bowiea weeds. Serpents shooting up out of the ground with lengthy branches that tickled with disgusting fingers of worms. Polypi dressing the skirts of the seafloor and clustering up this wooded area.

Every plant was twisted and mangled in its own way, clutching onto random items. Skeletons of a number of fish and human beings who had drowned were in the grasps of these eager unseemly trees. He swiftly made his way through these bushes and herbs of horror, arriving to a small place that was occupied by large sluggish snails. In the middle of this terrain, stood a house build of broken shards of ships, bones, and shattered mussels.

Along the entrance way to this house floated a darkened figure, cloaked with a slick seaweed. It turned to face the colorful prince who peered over towards it. A loud cackle noise up roared from the witch; her shoulders shook with each breath. “Oh my – what honor do I have here? Prince of the South Atlantic. What a delicate blue tail you have.”

Hoseok stood still in his area, eyeing the being before him. Tentacles dragged beyond her, her writhing arms dangled to her sides and pieces of her hair abnormally distorted around her head in a wicked manner.

“You know me?”

“I know much. Well. I hear many. I see most,” said she to the aqua blue prince. “I know what you want, and it’s quite mindless. Yet I shall assist you, for a price.” The sorceress hovered; brushing pass her field of snails. “You wish to get rid of your tail for a set of those dainty stilts like those pathetic humans have. You fancy a princess above the water. So, I’ve heard.” The wicked woman snickered.

“What a pity, such gorgeous of blues to be snuffed out. But nonetheless, I shall help royalty with no delay.”

“You will?” Hoseok hoped, enthusiastic to the mysterious witch. “What do I owe for your time?”

The enchantress turned towards the opening of her house, floating down into the pit of it. “Come child, I shall show you.”

A large cauldron rested in the middle of the singular room; every moment new ingredients were thrown into the slump of its dome. Mixed smoke and foams sizzling throughout the water. “I will make you a potion – one you will drink as you make it up to the surface. You shall sit on the coast and swallow it whole, and then your tail of beautiful aqua and gold will shrivel and shrink from under you – to things which men call legs.”

Another puff of smoke plumed in the water, a zap of her ingredients fusing together in a rancid smell. “This transformation will be extremely painful after all; you will feel as if a sharp blade passed through your body though no blood shall spill. You’ll retain that beautiful face of yours, your undulation movements of dance. Light on your feet, throughout days on land it will grow to be more difficult to walk. Imagine thousands of blades slicing through your soles with each step you take.”

Hoseok watched the cauldron fill to the brim, gooey discolored liquids lofting around like a stew. He listened intensely to the warnings of the sea witch, but his dedication held strong within him. “You haven’t told me what the price is.”

The witch cackled once more, cutting her arm to allow thick black blood drip down into the pot. “Your voice is the price I ask.”

Hoseok trembled watching the potion being concocted in front of his own eyes. A level on uncertainty settling in the pit of his stomach. “How long do I have?”

“Until your princess falls in love – shall decide your fate. If you seek the princess’s heart, love to such degree that she leaves her family for you, that you flood her mind and wishes – you will remain human. If sorrowfully on the day she is united to another will you see your sadness. Forced back into a merman and you will surrender your kingdom to me.”

“But if you take my voice from me,” spoke the aqua tailed prince, “What do I have to charm the princess? How am I going to communicate with her?”

“Your graceful form of course,” replied the sorceress. “Your speaking eyes, that handsome face that you bestow. You can infatuate a vain meek human heart with your beauty, can you not? Your dance speaks wonders – I’ve heard many stories.” Her arm laced around the shoulder of the prince, eyeing the dangling pearl that hung from his lobe.

“Now speak into my shell,” she held a conch in his view. “Speak to the sea in return for my magic drink.”

And so, he spoke, whispers of nothings but wishes, of thanks, and hopes. His orotund voice slowly being sucked away by a magical blue hue that breathed from his mouth to the inners of the magical conch.

The witch handed a vial of the finished potion, a translucent liquid that swirled around a clear glass. “Remember to swallow all and prepare yourself for the pain.” Her witch laugh resounded loud through the room.

Hoseok trailed back the same way he came, through the heavily wooded thicket of long polypi that bent away from him the moment he drew near. The foaming streams produced from the buzzing whirlpool laid still as he entered. Scrubs and plants dissipating with his presence.

Once he returned back to his home it was late; lamps in the apartments of the palace were extinguished, families were fast asleep. His halls were dimly lit, the garden shimmered in the moonlight, and his room pitch dark. He was voiceless, the words he wishes to spill to his dear friend Kiko will never reach her. But he chose to try, to gain her attention in her own little quarters.

At her wake she was startled, it was the middle of the night though she heard no noise from Hoseok. His hand tapped on his throat multiple times, signaling a language of no speech. He held the bottle to his pet and shook it with delight. With hopeful eyes he glanced up, referencing the plane between the two worlds. All his attempts to hint his next actions.

“What have you done!?” Kiko jolted from her rest, hollering at the Prince who looked all too pleased with his decision. “Hoseok please, no!”

He smiled his wide bright smile and swam away, not asking for Kiko to follow but she was persistent. She swam alongside him all the way through the dark blue waters to the world above as she did many times before. She wanted to protect Hoseok and be there for him at all costs.

The moon still shone in the sky when they rose from the depts to Hoseok’s casual lounging rocks. The ocean was still, swiftly washing waves ashore and receding back into the sea. He made his way to the shallows, to the area where he once touched when he saved the drowning princess from the wreckage.

A sorrowful look he exchanged with his leafy creature; he was aware of leaving his realm behind on the pursuit of learning about the land and to find his lovely princess. That once he drank this clear liquid, he will turn into one of them, no longer allowed to swim down to his realm because his tail would be no more.

He felt the liquid run down his throat as he tilted his head back, the mix drink oozed its way down his body like a sharp knife cutting from the inside and he fell to the ground clutching his stomach. The excruciating pain sliced his insides overwhelming the human-to-be, a resounded tear of a sudden split of his fin filleting… was last heard before he fainted.

When the sun was reaching over the mountains of the east, Hoseok awoke; and he immediately felt the burning pain in all of his limbs and organs. He inhaled exaggeratedly, clutching his hand over his chest as he leaned up. Fresh air burning its way through his new human lungs, the dryness of his mouth making him feel even more worse. The waters washed him up further on the shore, sand now surrounding his body and his now new pair of legs.

His eyes grew wide looking down between himself and the sea. Looking at the bare of his legs, a set of limbs that do not work like how his tail once had. Naturally, he moved the limbs one by one, turning his ankles, bending his knees, and wiggling his toes. Tiny appendages that matched the ten fingers on his hands, just smaller.

Hoseok sat in complete nude, just basking in the glow of the sun and the breeze of the wind. Until a squeak drew his attention from the water, a flip and a splash. It was Kiko – who must have stayed all night with him.

He opened his mouth, yet nothing came out. Something he needs to get used to now and figure out how to sign language his way through gestures. Instead he waved and smiled excitedly, motioning his hands towards his legs which he waved in the air with joy.

“Are you crazy? Cover yourself up Hoseok!”

Kiko darted around the water, looking for something to give the poor prince for some decency. Pieces of seaweed or kelp won’t do – something bigger needs to cover his bottom half. Lucky for them, remains of the past shipwreck still lurked in the waters. A torn fabric, from a mast, nonetheless, trapped under a broken wooden plank drifted in the sunken water not too far from the shore.

Hoseok remained unphased. More intrigued and preoccupied with these unsteady legs, he almost didn’t notice the added appendage that laid between them. The one thing Kiko was most nervous about, the lack of modesty. That’s no way for Hoseok to go about on land – oh most certainly not!

“Hoseok!” Kiko arrived closer, drawing Hoseok’s attention. “There’s cloth down here, I can’t remove it myself. But you need it, quickly! Come!” She flittered her little fins around the area, “Right down here!”

He bent his knees up, pushed off the ground with enough force to lift his body stable on the flats of his feet. Instantly he started wobbling, teetering left and right as he stumbled towards the water. Not only trying to understand the concepts of walking, looking like a toddler who needed the support to stand up. The witch was right – he felt light on his feet, he swiftly moved with jagged balance. But unfortunate to him, there was a buildup of thorn-stabbing pain with each step.

Hoseok fell, not gracefully, into the water where his limbs straight away felt at ease and cooled off. The threatening pain not causing him anymore discomfort. He drifted towards Kiko, kicking his legs erratically to stay afloat. His eyebrows raised, beckoning a questioned look for Kiko to guide him.

Reaching down through the green weeds, he caught hold of a wet material, yanking it up from under the object it was crammed under. It was thin, but long enough to cover him whole.

Resting his bottom on the sands of the shore once more, he twisted the material around his tapered waistline, right above his prodding hip bones and securing it tight with a knot. A crafted loincloth decorated around him, long enough to reach the tops of his knees. Hoseok’s eyes formed happy-crescent shapes when looking back to his floating buddy, enjoying his small victory.

Kiko observed Hoseok, watched him closely. There was almost a young childlike aspect on is features, his fascination, his wide eyes of wonder taking in his new environment. A wide grin from ear to ear, eyes sparkling in the beautiful sunlight. Hoseok still looked just as handsome as he did when he was adorned his aqua tail. And Kiko prayed from that moment forward that this journey Hoseok choose to take himself – will hopefully play out in his favor.

Seagulls squawked overhead, the gentle air tickling his skin. The reassuring sounds of the waves drifting in and out causing the heart wrenching feeling of home resolve the hollow of his chest.

A sudden uproar of noise startled the prince, coming from the edging of the cliff. A familiar noise he has heard once before but couldn’t quite understand what it was – until he saw it. A black four-legged figure barking along the sands, rushing in every which way with a snout that sniffed up into the air.

Hoseok’s face grew pale when he locked eyes with the creature. He had to get out of there, he didn’t know what this creature was capable of and it sure as well wasn’t human.

The large animal bolted towards Hoseok, yapping it’s head off with excitement. Fearful, Hoseok jumped up on a nearby bolder – one high enough to prevent the beast to touch him as it came close. It didn’t look threatening upon closer inspection; black fur coated this four-legged mut, and it had a tail as well! Is this what a dog was? He’s seen artworks that had these human pets in them, but none looked like this dog that woofed at him.

Hoseok shooed the dog with a wave of his hand, making a disgruntled face. Over the commotion between man and dog, Hoseok didn’t notice a curious wondering human making its way hesitantly. “Toby! Toby where’d you go! You need to help me find these shells – oh my!” A female in a simple tight-fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that covered down to her ankles, crept forward; a netted satchel filled with seashells slinked over her shoulder that she held closer to her body.

Her eyes met with Hoseok’s, frozen. It was her, Princess Y/n. Even though she wasn’t dressed in her elegant gown, decorated in her pretty jewelry, she still looked just as beautiful. Hoseok remained star-struck, as if he was seeing the princess for the very first time. Mouth agape, eyes fixed inquiringly on the stunning girl who stood meters away from him. The continuous barks of the Toby-beast unwavering until the princess scolded it.

“Toby! Down boy! Leave that man alone!” She called her pet back, rushing over to stop him from intruding the man on the rocks space. “I’m so sorry! Toby can be a bit overwhelming. But I assure you he’s really kind!” She managed to hold back her pet, trying to calm him down and get him to sit for her.

Hoseok looked down, preserving his surprised state. He smiled at the princess’s warm features, her soft delicate skin and whisking hair that was pinned out with a bow in the back.

The princess looked up at Hoseok, having a moment of déjà vu – something about this was all too familiar to her. “You seem… are you? Have – have we met before?” The words stumbled out of her mouth, in amazement as her eyes casted up to the glowing stranger. He was gorgeously handsome, his hair long and wavy, his smile so sincere and shining in the sun. Those almond colored eyes that captured the deepest of blues within them dazed back at her.

Hoseok eagerly shook his head – yes yes, they have met before!

“We have met! I knew it!” she exclaimed. “What is your name?”

Hoseok mouthed the formation of his name, but nothing came out. Frustrating the poor man even more, his lips pulled down into a frown. It’s as if his larynx was completely removed from his throat, the voice box completely vanished from within.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The curious princess spoke with worry. “Can you not speak?”

Exasperated, Hoseok held his fists up in a struggling fight with himself, scrunching his face along with it. This was his one and only time he can talk to her, yet he couldn’t form the words he wanted to say. Panic-stricken, he motions his arms and hands in spur of erratic movements. Trying to signal his distress.

“Oh, something is wrong? You’re hurt? You need help?”

Hoseok reached forward too far, losing his stability on top of the rock and falling forward. He was clumsy, landing in the sand right in front of the princess and blushing from embarrassment. Toby jumped over towards the fallen man, now licking up the side of his face and showering him with a handful of kisses.

“Oh gee – Toby! Off of him!” she hollered, now lunching herself to save Hoseok from her furry dog. “I’m so sorry!” Hoseok’s face was lifted up with a smile again, giggling at the cuteness of this Toby animal.

The princess relaxed, seeing that there was no threat at hand when the stranger started playing back with Toby. She saw how he wasn’t properly dressed, lost his clothes and his voice. Her soft heart churned with sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. You must have gone through something terrible recently. Let me help you up.”

The princess escorted Hoseok back to her palace, offering her assistance as he limped oddly while he walked. Once exposed, no thanks to Toby’s cheerful barking, servants brought the nearly naked man a set of expensive clothes.

“Princess Y/n! Who – what do we have here?” A maid rushed over holding out a robe already set open for the guest. “I thought you were looking for shells,” the maid turned to eye Hoseok. Capturing in his natural beauty essence. “not – not a man.”

The princess laughed, hiding a tinted pink blush from her embarrassment. “Ms Gretta, I assure you I didn’t mean to stumble upon this man. Toby ended up finding him! But he needs help! I think he may be sick.”

“Oh, sweet child. Haven’t we told you not to go running off alone? It’s dangerous for a woman of your status to be out there unsupervised!” The maid slunk the robe around Hoseok’s shoulders, covering him up.

The princess smiled softly, “But, I wasn’t alone. I had Toby!”

Her maid tsk’d, rolling her aging eyes. “Dear, Toby is not an excuse. Please next time, would you be careful?” She averted her attention to the strange man who stood still in the center of their foyer. “Come here young one, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The princess’s maid who addressed the man’s hygiene, escorted Hoseok down the hall. He looked over his shoulder in confusion has he was pushed along the tiled floors, looking at the princess who waved innocently. “I’ll see you soon!” she said.

Hoseok was led into a bejeweled decorative washroom. Gold encrusted handles and trimming, a similar color to the specks that scattered throughout his tail. A large bath displayed in the center, filling up with steamy warm water and colorful bubbles. A pricy chandelier hung from the center right above the tub.

“Now now, I’ll leave you to your privacy, sir. And I’ll come back to check on you. I’ll leave your clothes and towels on the counter right here. Please feel free to use whatever toiletries you need.” The maid bowed before stepping out of the room.

Hoseok walked over to the tub, feet now aching terribly. The bubbles reminded him of the foam that he’s seen a hundred of times on the plane of the water. Dissolved organic matter from algal blooms. It surprised him, however, that these bubbles came with a fresh scent.

Stepping into the tub his feet promptly soothed over from the dull pain. His knees bucked from under him, forcing a splash of water to rise above the edge of the tub and splattering across the tile below. The element of water was natural to him, it was alleviating him. Bubbles fluttered in the air, a cascade of them landing down on top of his head. He loved it; humans had all of the elements. Water, earth, air and fire.

“Darling please, no more nonsense of this. We need to focus on your studies.”

Princess Y/n and her mother, the Queen, were enjoying teatime in the dining hall with high painted ceilings and checkered flooring. With additions of a ruby red rug, large window plates, and a fireplace structured on the western wall.

Each dressed in their civil casual wear, a baby blue dress for the princess and an elegant topaz green for the queen. They sipped together while staring off at the scenic views outside. “I understand mother. I just turned a new age, please let me enjoy my time just a bit longer,” the princess begged.

“Darling, you know your positioning. We must find you a partner to be wed. There’s many suitors from several kingdoms who are in your age group.”

The princess remained silent, savoring the last bit of tea from her cup. What the queen didn’t know was that the young princess has been waiting for the day to find that man who had saved her. She wanted to express her gratitude and appreciation to the person on the beach. The princess knew there was no way she had dreamed of the man, but unfortunate for her, she sorrowfully cannot remember his face. Only fractions and figments of her memories weave together of that morning. The sun was glaring down into her eyes during the only time she could see him, but she remembered his voice. The audible feature that made her know that he was real.

The word, the greeting, “Hello.” Was the only excuse for her brain to process that hazy morning as real. She heard the person speaking to her. She wished, all this time to see him once more. Before she had to leave her kingdom for good, united with another man from a different country, she was determined to find that person who had saved her.

Every so often, when her schedule allowed it, she would journey down onto the beach. Strolling along the shore picking up pieces of washed up shells and rocks to add to her own collection of aquatic artifacts. And with each trip, she hoped to see that person once more.

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” The disgruntled tone in the queen’s voice drew the princess’s attention. She blinked, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly she was interrupted.

“Go on – no need to be shy!” prodded the maid, pushing Hoseok forward.

Hoseok approached through the double-wide doors into the dining hall, now dressed in his borrowed rich clothes. A comfortable tunic that fell loose around his arms, black pants that rolled up by the ankles, and a thick belt that sat snug against his waist. It was a simple outfit, casual and relaxed. The only thing that looked more tasteful to the naked eye, something that looked priceless, was the singular pearl earring that hung from his ear.

He stepped towards the princess and queen with an astonished look on his face. The room surrounding them was marvelous, designed beautifully and almost as beautiful as his back in his underwater realm. He was nervous but happy, twiddling his thumbs between another as he stopped at a safe distance. He curtseyed with regard, gaining both the women of the room’s curiosity.

The princess stood up excitedly, “You look amazing – lively! Gretta has done a great job helping you!”

Hoseok nodded bashfully, his smile still present. The princess swore that there was a sudden twinkle in his beautiful beaming eyes when he reconnected their gazes.

“This is the man you found out on the beach?” the queen addressed the two with a quirked brow. “My, he is quite the visual. Young man, what is your name?”

Both Hoseok and Y/n turned to face the queen properly, a warily grin accompanied the both of them. “Mother, I’m afraid he’s a mute.” Hoseok timidly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, sending the queen an apologetic look.

Perturbed, the queen pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “I see. That’s very luckless my dear.” The queen’s eyes scanned the innocent male in front of her, seeing no threat in any nature. “You are welcomed to spending time here, as Y/n requested. Please make yourself feel at home and do not hesitate to ask, er – to seek out for any help.” Her lips upturned genuinely.

Hoseok bowed as a sign of respect and thanks. Feeling giddy, his body vibrated with delight.

“Come here, please sit. You must be malnourished.” The queen gestured to a seat at the elongated table. “Food will be served shortly.”

It was a bright chipper day, cool calm and collective. Noisy birds chirped from outside his guest room, a sound he never had the privilege to waking up to. Their squawks and chirps sounding as one of a melodic tune. Little animals making conversations with another, flapping their wings to soar high above the buildings and structures outside Hoseok’s window.

Hesitantly, he pulled the curtain aside to allow the view before him expand. The colors of the palaces garden were gleaming with charm, fantastic brand-new species of plants of all sorts of colors captivated his sights.

He slowly leaned over the railing of the windowsill, sticking his head out further into the air. If he was back in his realm he could simply just swim out, but here he was grounded. Out past the front gates, far into the distance of the forestry, was more building structures assembled. More colorful delight sprung from them, decorations and flags waving in the wind. It indeed was a beautiful day above the water, and Hoseok’s urge to explore was thriving within him.

An echoed knock resonated from the door, causing Hoseok to whip his head in the direction and walked his bare feet over to open the custom designed wooden door. Just before he turned the handle he glanced over at the shallow tub he grabbed from his quarter’s bathroom last night. It was still was filled with cooled water which he used the for his feet.

Another knock causing Hoseok to jump with the sound. He creaked the door open to pry his head curiously through the crack, and he was met with the maid who had assisted him throughout yesterday – Gretta.

“Good morning, sir!” She smiled warmly giving him a tiny nod. It took her a moment to remember she wasn’t going to hear a greeting back, due to Hoseok’s lack of voice. That didn’t derail her train of thoughts though, “I have fresh clothes for you!” She raises the materials in her arms higher up, catching Hoseok’s view.

He nodded, stepping back with the door, allowing Gretta to walk through. Hoseok stood there uncertain with his nightwear still snug on him, watching Gretta make her way to a side table to place the essentials down. She too noticed the tub laying besides the bed, filled with water.

“Miss Y/n was curious if you’d like to join her for the street festival in town today? There are many activities to partake in! She’s grown quite curious about you as well.” Gretta rambled, laying out the selected choice of menswear. It was similar to the previous day outfit, large relaxing soft blue tunic decorated with small detailed floral patterns and another pair of black trousers. There was also a bronzy gold belt laid out along with a set of – a set of…?

“These boots are made out of cowhide, sturdy for long walks on the roads. You don’t need to worry about getting them dirty!”

Oh, they’re called boots. Hoseok mentally noted the two neat glossy brown oddities. But the idea of long walks pulled his face into a grimace – he’ll need a break from walking frequently. He’ll need to find something to soak his feet in to cool of the agonizing stabbing pain that jolted through the pads of his feet the more he stepped.

“Shall I tell the princess you’ll be ready in twenty minutes? We’ll pull a carriage up in the meantime.” Gretta smiled over at the handsome young lad that stood motionless near the door. There was a natural aura about the boy, something ‘off’ for Gretta but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Hoseok bobbed his head excitedly, smiling at the fact he’ll get to see the princess once again. With joy he hurriedly grabbed at the fabrics, with no hesitation or decency to whip off his nightshirt in one swift movement. Gretta hastily turned her eyes away, heading towards the door just as quick. She laughed slightly, “I will clean up the room when you’re out in town.” From there the click of the door was heard with Gretta’s exit, and Hoseok is stumbling over himself trying to place these so-called ‘boots’ over his damn feet.

The carriage carried Hoseok, Y/n, and two guards into town. The settlement was garnished with florals, furnished with twisted wreaths and tangled vines. Banners hung building to building, colors of pinks, greens, blues, and purples scattered universally. Sculptures of flowers made out of papers and sheer fabrics hung down from above. Bodies of men, women and kids moving about another in dance, or between food stands, shops, and miscellaneous vendors.

It was beautiful for a land festival, but for a moment it reminded Hoseok of his brother’s recent party. There were similarities between the two of course, but there was something different at the same time. Nothing could compare to each other because in Hoseok’s view, land and water were forever going to be different.

The princess walked alongside Hoseok, humming herself a soft tune from an ongoing flute player. Peering down at the lovely princess, Hoseok couldn’t help but smile at the way her eyes wondered around as if she’s searching for something in particular. She smiled when greeted by passersby’s, declining offers of home-made treats and gifts.

“You know – I still don’t know your name. Do you go by a name?” Y/n spoke directly to Hoseok, but her eyes were looking through the crowd of people. Once she glanced up to meet his beautiful brown eyes, she had a mischievous smile. Hoseok nodded, furrowing his brows. He had to think of a way to tell her his name or find something that was close enough to relate back to him.

He turned his head left and right, looking for objects or scenery to point at. But there was nothing in his sights that satisfied him or suited him. Maybe a color would be easier? So, he looked around, pointing out the first blue thing he could find.

“Flower?” she questioned, smiling to herself. But with Hoseok responding with an unenthusiastic look she tilted her head. He searched again, grabbing at items and widgets all in different shades of blue. He held them towards Y/n, motioning the importance with his hand on his chest. Me! These are me! He was referencing.

Even the guards attempt to shout out answers to Hoseok’s amusing charade. Band? Berries? Belt? Cloth? Plate? Bracelet?

Hoseok grew more and more frustrated with the wrong answers he sighed in defeat. Sitting himself down on a bench that perched besides a bridge. He was stumped, blowing a breath of air up into his falling bangs.

“It’s okay!” The princess joined him on the bench, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “We don’t need to worry about it.”

A pang within his chest tightened over his heart when he looked back to the princess’s sincere eyes. That feeling pinched a sensitive nerve within him, he was stunned by the beautiful princess. Dare he admit that he may be smitten over her rosy cheeks, the way her smile drew a smile from him.

Her gaze flickered to the bead that hung from his lobe, the jewel that adorned his single earring. It glittered in the light, something she never has seen before. But Hoseok could see the small twinkle in the reflection of her orbs.

“It’s beautiful. That pearl you have.” Her wondering finger pointed at the ornament.

The moment she inched closer to Hoseok’s jewel he moved back in retaliation, quickly holding up his hand to catch hers. It’s natural for him to protect the one thing that holds his realm intact. The princess drew back her breath at the sudden movement. She didn’t know he was acting on defense, and they both looked shocked at another.

Hoseok held his hands up innocently, waving them as he wished to apologize. His distressed face was frantic and upset.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t worry! It’s okay!” she grabbed at Hoseok’s hands, holding them together. “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok wanted to say that it wasn’t her fault, it was his. And that he was the one who was sorry. He’s the one that was masquerading around with no voice, bending his mannerisms to the ill façade he needed to do.

A deep sigh exhaled through Hoseok, cocking his head to the side and tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. It now dawned on the poor prince that this indeed will be difficult. Between their hands Hoseok caught a glimpse of something resonating, a small glow mirroring off of another’s skin. Another frightened jump came from Hoseok, looking down at his hands.

He’s seen this before. It wasn’t as strong but that glow nonetheless was definitely similar to the one Jimin had with his human friend. It had to be. But this didn’t happen at all yesterday?

The princess looked befuddled at Hoseok’s behavior – such a strange man she thought.

Hoseok ran his hands through his wavy hair, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his palm. He side-eyed the princess, smirking slightly as if he thought of something clever.

Y/n caught herself staring at the outline of this man’s profile. The silk of his hair shining in the sunlight, the scoop of his delicate nose, the pucker of his smooth lips. If she wasn’t such a headstrong lady she may have been blushing the first moment she came in contact with him.

Unexpectedly, Hoseok got off the bench. He waved on the princess and their two guards towards a vendor he was walking towards. As they approached, they see Hoseok surrounding himself with branches and twines of flowers, folding and weaving them together. ‘Flower Crowns’ labeled on a sign right above the shop, with a handful of premade crowns with ribbons ready to be bought.

But Hoseok took the initiative to interlace his own craft, bending the steams and twigs of these colorful tangerine colored flowers. Once he secured it safely in a round band, he turned, offering the circlet with a wide grin to Y/n.

She giggled, taking an exaggerated bow, and waited for Hoseok to bestow the new fashion atop her dome. It was like uniting his princess, unifying her to be a queen with a beautiful crown. The orange of the blossoms complimented the tint of pink on her cheeks.

“Thank you so much! Here let me give you one!”

Y/n looked around the small shop, eyeing the various cluster of garlands. Her eyes land one a particular one, perhaps it stood out because she was already primed with the color already. A blueish, greenish bundle of flowers knotted within a band; specks of little yellow daisies crisscrossed within them.

‘Interesting’, thought Hoseok. The princess picked out colors of which resembled his long-lost tail. Was it coincidence or – “Hydrangea flowers are so colorful!” She cooed. “Look at these ruffles of aquas and turquoise! And these yellow daisies!”

That’s it! Aqua! She can call him aqua, at least that’s a small portion of his real name. Hoseok pointed at the princess, then back at himself. He waved his hands for her to speak again with desperation in his eyes.

“What? The daisies?” She quirked a brow. No! shouted Hoseok’s inner conscience. He then pointed at the blue petals, running his finger around the anthers and blade of each petal. “The hydrangea? They’re blue?” She questioned. But when Hoseok shook his head severely as emphasis to the word blue, the princess caught on. “Oh! Blue? No – wait… not blue. Turquoise? Oh… not that one. Wait, aqua? You like Aqua!?”

As desperate for a man could be without his voice, Hoseok strained everything within himself from jumping up with glee when she understood the one thing she needed to know.

“Aqua? Hm, that’s a peculiar name.” She rested her finger on her lips as she pondered.

Hoseok pouted, knowing very well that his name is not short from his real title. The princess snickered to herself, thinking it’s quite cute that this ‘Aqua’ guy was pulling a sulky face.

“I like it.” She exclaimed as she raised the crown over Hoseok’s head and placed it gently on top. The flowers suited him; the coloration looked right. And if he wasn’t already a handsome fellow, he sure looked like one now.

“Here, I want to show you something, Aqua!”

The princess zig-zagged through the street full of people alongside her guards. Hoseok trailed close by, taking in more of the views and shops of the town. Y/n led the group to an opening within the city, a larger circled area with one big cast stone fountain with jets of water cascading out of a mermaid statue.  

Folk music was playing, a band off to the side with a handful of instruments Hoseok has never seen before, violins, trumpets, and guitars – but Hoseok didn’t know the names of these. As if they were just like Namjoon and Yoongi. Composers.

Innocent singers harmonizing off to the side, a sweet melodic song. Their tunes were catchy, and the upbeat tempo pulsed within him. Just how Taehyung’s and Seokjin’s voices conducted.

When Hoseok watched the people danced around their merry ways, impulsively he wanted to dance too.

Hoseok looked down at his legs, almost criticizing the way he needed to work with both legs than a tail to do what his body used to do so fluidly beneath the waves of the sea. Maybe he can, maybe he could try.

In the midst of the princess trailing on about how much she adored the fountain and surrounding shells that decorated the sturdy stone, Hoseok wondered into the crowd. Drawn to the music and he started to dance around them all.

Hoseok stretched out his delicate arms, thin but strong as he hovered gracefully between person to person. Every movement, every agonizing step he took, became more and more in symmetry. He twirled with elegance, just as he did in the ocean. His expression of enjoyment, of love and compassion spoke through his eyes and it touched the hearts of surrounding villagers.

Nobody has seen someone move like Hoseok did, and even more spectators joined in the dance solemnly because of how inviting Hoseok looked.

The princess turned her head to the commotion that riled up, noticing that Aqua was no longer next to her but in the crowd. He was performing his best with little experience on two legs.

Hoseok locked eyes with Y/n, who gawked at the way he looked. Effortless motion, stylish and tasteful swaying.

It was then when the princess decided she wanted to get to know this person more; she wanted to know more about Aqua and figure out his background.

Once the song ended, the bodies halted in place. A round of applause cheered about, circling around Hoseok who stood there with the shyest of smiles. He could only stare back at his princess though, blocking out the views and townsmen around him.

“That was wonderful!” The princess encouraged with clapping hands. “You dance?”

With a nod, Hoseok cloaked the impending pain that was stabbing his feet. He shouldn’t have danced – it worsened the torture, but he couldn’t help the way his body naturally coursed to the music. He walked up to Y/n who stood near the fountain, just as he reached her a spasm pain shot up his foot and forced his knee to buckle.

It ached, cramps gnawing away at his muscles. His stumbling landed him on the fountains edge, sitting his body down on the stone.

“Oh, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Y/n examined over Hoseok’s scrunched up face. He glowered his sight towards his feet as he kicked off his boots. He cannot keep his feet contained any longer, he needs to relieve them before he can’t walk anymore.

“You’re feet?”

His feet were bare, but severely reddened. Blisters forming on the heels of his feet. He turned his head to look up at the mermaid fountain, eyeing the lengthy tail of stone, reminiscing to himself. Though he’s only been a day without a tail, he can only imagine having it as substitute for this pain.

Once he looks back to the Princess, his thoughts vanished. If it wasn’t for his deal, he wouldn’t have gotten these legs. And with these legs, knees, and feet, he was able to meet Princess Y/n – again.

Without thinking clearly about his next course of action, Hoseok spun himself on the edge to submerge his feet into the fountain.

The cool temperature of the water instantly relieved the throbbing ache, soaking his blistering skin.

Appalled citizens shuttered at the act; the guards were quick to lean towards Hoseok but the princess halted them with her hand. “Uhm, Aqua… you can’t do that.” She kept her voice hushed but stern. “If your feet hurt, we can help you back at the palace. But you can’t dip them in the fountain – please take them out.”

Hoseok complied, not wanting to anger anyone. He only reacted based of instinct, he knew the water was going to help him subside at least for a moment.

The princess ordered a guard to fetch the carriage, requesting for them to pick the group up right here. Soon they were traveling back up the lengthy road to the front gates of her home.

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[elfandomdelpandicornioyeldorito]

Chapter 4. Epiphany (Willow Series)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Valentina Rivera (OC)

Word count: 1478

Trigger Warning: angst. Language, emotional distress and problems, mentions of anxiety, insecurities and love advises.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any Marvel character, only the Original Characters are mine. English is not my mother tongue.

General Masterlist - Willow Series Masterlist- Abuelita Rivera Spanish Lesson- The Val Playlist

Gifts and pictures aren’t mine

Around three months, that was the amount of time that Valentina had spent outside her magical hut, her grace time was over, her vacations finally ended, she needed to get back on track with school, research and family calls.

Fortunately, Mr. Mkanthama stayed in Wakanda with them, being their research tutor and professor, but was also able to find a way to put them in one of the Wakandan Universities as the first exchange students, so they can keep studying.

Her research mates were mad when she came back to the apartment in the city, they claim that she was a bad friend for leaving in the name of her mental health, it turn out that they weren’t the good friends that she believed, all of them left as soon as they could, renting other places with their money as far away from her, and applying the ice law, Valentina was completely alone this time, but it wasn’t the first time someone did that to her.

"Sure you are fine? You stay the whole day since the start of the semester in this auditorium listening to me" Mr.Mkanthama walks up until reaching Val, in the last row, eating an instant soup and working on some assignment in her laptop.

"The rest of the people I came with are acting like children because I left like four months for the sake of health, and I don’t want to stay at the apartment with my thoughts, that shit is dangerous"

"Language"

"Sorry"

"What are you working on?" the man sits in the space next to her

"Happy you ask. Well, the last class we discussed about sentient weapons and your assignment is about when and how there exists a line between a sentient weapon and an intelligent weapon, right?" the man nods" Well, intelligent weapons needs from algorithms that at the same time learn the social abilities from the internet, what they mimic is not natural and doesn’t look natural but, we have sentient weapons like The Vision, and along all this time since its creation we all can see how much socially has involved and is capable to also be emphatic, and that’s the key, the ability to understand and respond to people's emotions, sentient weapons are capable of learn without being connected to the internet, they learn like a child, and that makes them almost humans. So, the discussion now is if we need laws or legal responsibilities for the sentient weapons. Why? Well, if they can learn and develop the same sense of ethics and values as a human, that means that they have hundred percent of right over their bodies and can choose if they want to be turned into weapons or not"

"So, you are trying to develop the same rights and responsibilities that people have in sentient weapons even if they are weapons?"

"Yes and no, if they are able to think by their own with no web trends or biased ideology they can chose the moment in which they want to stop being weapons"

"You are open a philosophical debate here"

"You know it's me when this kind of subject appears" they both laugh.

At the end, as always, Val felt confident about what she was writing, but once again alone with her inside voice, she wasn’t feeling that confident of her life decisions.

It was 2pm when Val arrived at her silent apartment, tired and with her head thinking in thousands of things and nothing at the same time. She climbs to her bed, with the cellphone in her hands and headphones on, when the call finally comes, she answers.

"Hola abuela" she greeted over the phone

"Suenas como mierda" Valentina chuckles" Espero que sea por algo bueno"

Valentina sighs.

"Kind of. I have a question for you"

"Tell me"

"How do I know that I fell in love?"

"Well, I have a checklist."She takes a pause" you feel comfortable with that person? Do you like to spend time with him? Do you like to share what you like with him? Do you think about him when you are not close to him?"

"All of them are yes"

"Then yes, you are in love, mija"

"What happens when I kiss that person in a stupid impulse?"

"¿Qué hiciste qué? ¿Como que besaste en un impulso? ¿qué piensas? ¿Cómo pasa eso?" the voice of her aunt Gloria suddenly appears, that moment she knew she was screwed.

" I was leaving town, the town i met him, but i never told him why i was leaving… and i felt so nervous of being that close to him that i kissed him with no warning… and then left…"

On the other side of the phone, Val was able to hear her aunts, her grandma, and even her brother Miguel, all of them arguing about how stupid she was in not telling him that she liked him, that she would love something with him.

If she had only told him the truth, she wouldn't feel so broken and devastated to leave him, and possibly not see him anymore …

She didn't know who took the phone and walked away from the crowd until that person spoke.

"Hey, I heard, how are you actually feeling? " Val heard the voice of Miguel.

"Honestly? Very high in anxiety, i shouldn't had to kiss him that way"

"How do you feel when you two are close?"

"Is nice, he listens… like for real, he notices the details of the stories. I feel peace close to him, but also I feel nervous because I don't want to screw it. I think of him 24/7…"

"That, that is love, so do yourself a favour, the next time you see him, you tell him what you feel for him"

Valentina suddenly feels guilt, Bucky was healing, what if she just made the process or the wound worse? What happens if he just was polite? What if he felt uncomfortable around her with the kiss?

"Migue… i don't know…"

"No, you know. Think of mom, she always said that tienes que agarrar el toro por los cuernos, yes? Then do that, tell him the moment you got the chance, and if he doesn't feels the same, the ones that lose is him"

Tears began to fall from her eyes, and suddenly she felt overwhelmed, anxious. She wanted to get back home, to travel back in time and speak with her mom about Bucky and what she felt, to put an end to all her questions.

Question. All in Buckys head since he was defreeze and since the departure of Valentina are questions.

His head was in a stormy cloud asking himself if he was the reason why Val left with no explanation or goodbye, if she somehow found his past and now left because was scared, or because she hated him for who he was and the things he did. Bucky still wasn’t able to understand one thing, and that was the kiss. She kissed him, they both kissed like flustered catholic teenagers one night before she left, did he surpass some line and didn’t know?

It was another day doing farm work, under the strong sun and the impossible heat, the man looked in the direction of the hut, which was now empty. He felt something in his heart when she didn't arrive at 4pm like before, he also felt disappointed when he turned around believing that he listened to her voice but she was nowhere to be found. That was his routine now. Wanting her company and finding nothing at the end, and that hurts deep in his chest. He felt something similar before Wakanda, when he was a HYDRA fugitive, wanting and craving for company, a silent cry for help but finding nothing more than his intrusive thoughts at the end of the day.

Time just pass, day or night, it felt the same for him, a tasteless routine: go to sleep, wake up in the middle of the night surrounded by his thoughts and nightmares, staying in bed watching his surroundings, stepping out of the bed early, farm work, eat, going to bed again. He even forgot how much time has passed since he was all alone by himself with no happiness or light in it.

He felt like a coward, unable to let his feelings show to the women that never accused him for his past, saying that he loved her was too early, but he indeed felt something, something that he didn’t feel since a lot of years ago and that was love.

The only different thing that day was the arrival of T’Challa and Okoye, the king placed a safety box on the bales of hay, in it, his new arm, he knew what that meant.

"Where 's the fight?" he finally asks.

Tag: @pinkpondofasgard @invisibleanonymousmonsters @dance-dreamer @americasmarauders @autumn-and-rain

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: King-Size Annual Avengers #11: In Honor’s Name!

August, 1982

“Why do the AVENGERS battle the Defenders?”

I dunno, man. Is it Tuesday again?

“And who is the mystery woman Nebulon has fallen for?”

Nebulona? She’s clearly just him but a woman.

Oh, hey Beast. So this is where you got to after quitting the Avengers.

Soooo.... Annuals, amirite? Pain in my butt. I actually forgot to cover this one and #12 is going to be somewhat plot relevant soon so I’ll shove this in wherever.

Its a blast from the past of the previous year.  Back when the Avengers were fantastic but only numbered four: Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, and Wasp.

And the Defenders seem to number many so this isn’t a very fair fight at all.

This issue starts with a PRELUDE

(J. M. DeMatteis again? Is this going to be weird?)

Nebulon the Celestial Man and damn fine dresser fades onto a hilltop shaking his fist and yelling that someone can’t do something to him.

Nebulon is mostly a Defenders villain and the major thing I know about him is that he’s supposedly exceptionally handsome but the handsomeness is a ruse and that the Squadron Sinister stopped helping him destroy the world once because they discovered he wasn’t as handsome as he was letting on.

Goes to show where their priorities lie. Also, the experience was so jarring that the evil Nighthawk decided to join the Defenders much to their chagrin.

So basically I know nothing about Nebulon. Hi, Nebulon.

An angry yelly fish head with the Rocky Horror Picture Show lips inside its fish lips shows up (I think this is what Nebulon realy looks like) and tells Nebulon that his punishment for constantly dicking with Earth is to be stranded on Earth with his powers reduced to half and stuck in his handsome-to-some-but-grotesque-to-fish body.

Okay. That clears things up.

Although I wish all of space would stop using Earth as their place to dump stuff or exile people. Its bad enough when Asgard does it. Its worse enough when there’s a whole crossover about all of space deciding to make Earth its supermax jail. And its a medium amount enough here.

But apparently the shouty fish people have a Prime Directive and Nebulon keeps breaking it, specifically on Earth. But a Prime Directive that also lets them dump troublemakers on planets where they’ve been troublemaking.

Nebulon tries to defend himself that, hey, Earth makes you do crazy stuff. But the yell fish is hearing nothing of it and just tells Nebulon to kill himself if he doesn’t want to be on Earth so bad.

... Eesh.

In his rage at being stranded on Earth, Nebulon teleports inside the Sanctum Sanctorum and starts yelling at Wong.

Wong tells him, dude, Dr Strange isn’t even here. So Nebulon starts beating up Wong.

How dare you, sir. Wong is a great guy!

Nebulon: “Then Wong shall die -- just as your master shall soon die -- and his accursed Defenders with him! They shall all pay for bringing this tragedy down on my head! For, if they had not risen up to thwart me. If they -- if they... Listen to me. Listen to the words of -- a fool! Forgive me, Wong! Neither you, Strange, nor the Defenders are responsible! The blame belongs solely to -- NEBULON!”

And then he teleports away, no doubt leaving Wong very confused.

CHAPTER 1: IN HONOR’S NAME!

Later, Thor flies over the Himalaya mountains and over the chapter title.

He has come for some peace and quiet sitting on a mountain away from the bustle of mortals but what does he find but someone already in his thinking spot!

Thor lands to see who would be sitting on a mountain with no pants on and its Nebulon, of course.

But I have to say. He’s sitting and hugging his knees. That’s advanced brood. That’s, in fact, verging on pout.

Although lets not let the fact that Thor flies out to the Himalayas to be alone sometimes slip on by uncommented.

Thor asks what brings the guy out here and Nebulon has a dramatic exile speech ready to go.

Nebulon: “For hours now I have sat, lost in thought, pondering that very question! What is it that brings any creature to the depths of despair, the edge of doom, but... himself?”

And since he senses a kindred spirit in Thor, one who is as different from the Earthly masses as Nebulon is, he unloads his full story onto Thor’s ears.

Upon hearing all about this dude who tried to take over or sell the world multiple times, Thor is like ‘this guy has got to meet the Avengers!’

Nebulon thinks Avengers sounds like Defenders and he’s not into that but Thor says that the Avengers are way cooler than the Defenders.

(Ooooh, shots fired, Thor)

Thor: “No, my friend -- there are none in all creation to compare with the Avengers! A hardier band of warriors hath ne’er been assembled! Where else could a god walk among mortals and find -- his equals?”

If Nebulon has truly repented of his past deeds, the Avengers will help him make a home on Earth.

And with a manly armclasp, like the one from Predator, Nebulon accepts and Thor takes him AWAY!

While the person who looks like Nebulon but a woman and with better boots watches them go and disappears in a bright flash of light.

CHAPTER 2

Yes, already.

“Avengers Mansion... Over the years, many fantastic beings have walked through the doors of this august Manhattan townhouse: Gods, mutants, androids... even a were-woman. But, of all these unique individuals, few -- if any -- have been more honored, more respected... More willing to serve the cause of freedom, wherever the place, whenever the time.. than the living legend whose only powers are his wits, his daring, and his years of hard-won skill... Captain America!”

And we see Cap leaping and gamboling about the exercise room, exercising.

Cap: “Ah -- there’s nothing like a good workout to make a man feel truly alive! It might pay to run through it once more, though --- my timing was a hair off on the parallel bars!”

Wasp comes in to... well, its Wasp. She comes to eye the eye candy and flirt a little, in a friendly fashion.

Wasp: “I see you’re here early for our meeting -- as usual! Don’t you ever slow down?”

Cap: “I seem to remember catching a few winks back in 1942 or so!”

Wasp: “Why, Cap -- that was two jokes in a row! I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Cap: “Oh, come on, Jan -- I’m not really that serious a guy, am I?”

Wasp: “I was just kidding, handsome.”

Cap: “Oh.”

Heh.

So, Thor called a super special emergency meeting of the Avengers to introduce his cool new friend.

Iron Man (secretly Tony Stark, true believers) is a little tense about the meeting because he had to cancel three business conferences, an address to foreign stockholders, and two dates.

Geez, for one meeting? You ever consider your calendar is way too packed, Tony?

Thor arrives with his cool, new pal and introduces the Avengers to NEBULON -- THE CELESTIAL MAN!

And Iron Man lunges out of his chair to get into better pointing distance.

Thor: “What irks thee, comrade? Why art thou so angered?”

Iron Man: “What irks me, Thor? He does! Haven’t you ever bothered to study our computer-file on alien threats? Your ‘newfound ally’ almost totalled the Earth -- several times!”

Nebulon: “Don’t you see, Thor? They react as I predicted they would!”

Also, geez. I know Tony is frustrated about all the schedule juggling he’s had to do but in this and the Black Knight two-parter he’s a lot ruder to Thor than you’d expect considering how close they are.

Some writers just don’t get the Avengers, I guess.

Cap and Wasp try to get Iron Man to calm down.

Wasp: “I’m sure there’s a darn good reason why Thor brought Nebulon here -- isn’t there?”

She’s downright staring daggers at him when she asks that.

We’ve jumped back in time a little from where I was covering but Jan is still the chairperson of the Avengers. It happened right when she returned from her divorce related hiatus and this four person group has to take place post-Tigra leaving and pre-membership drive.

So, she’s the boss and she just gave angry boss eyes at Thor. And Thor did his default squinting always-looks-pissed look back at her.

Thor tells Nebulon’s whole sad story off-panel.

And damn if it doesn’t hit the Avengers right where they live.

Wasp tells him that they all know what it means to lose something precious “whether it’s an entire world... or the love of one person -- it makes no difference! It hurts to suddenly find yourself -- alone!”

And Captain America sympathizes because when he was defrosted after twenty years, it was like a strange new world!

They’re both on team ‘give Nebulon a chance!’

Iron Man is more reluctant but decides to give Nebulon one chance.

Then the Defenders bust in.

Beast, Valkyrie, Silver Surfer, and Gargoyle who is not Etrigan at all.

And they’re here to kick Nebulon’s ass. Which is entirely fair considering that they’ve been the ones who keep having to stop Nebulon’s planschemes.

Since the Avengers seem to not be beating up Nebulon, obviously they’ve all been mind controlled. Nebulon is clearly planning to blow up half the Earth and use the Avengers to control the rest.

Cap: ‘what’

Silver Surfer: ‘HE’S MAKING A HOSTILE MOVE!’

And then Silver Surfer blasts the floor, sending all of the Avengers sprawling every which way.

MEANWHILE, IN SPACE

There’s a huge spaceship, in space. And within the huge spaceship in space, the lady who looks like a lady Nebulon watches the fight on a screen and cries.

Hey, I get it. Doing the Avengers vs Defenders Again But Worse makes me sad too.

CHAPTER 3

See, that’s more of the length for a chapter. You could learn something from chapter 2, chapter 1.

Anyway, the clock winds back a little for the Defender’s side of the story.

Valkyrie returns to the Sanctum Sanctorum in a good mood and also on a flying horse.

For a long while, Valkyrie’s status quo is that she was inhabiting the body of Barbara Norris, a woman that Dr Strange accidentally drove insane. But she’s gotten her original Asgardian body back so she’s stronger than ever and also not bodyjacking someone else.

She flies into the window, alarming Gargoyle, Beast, and Wong.

Gargoyle tearfully flies up and hugs Valkyrie saying that he thought she was leaving for Asgard forever.

Hey, um, who dis?

-wiki- Ok so he’s an elderly man who was trapped in a gargoyle body by some demons who he broke an agreement with. Cool, cool, cool. I would have guessed much younger based on how he acts here.

Valkyrie also smooshes Beast’s hand when he gives her a handshake hello, because she’s much buffer than she was when she left. Also, she talks more like Thor.

Valkyrie: “I am, at long last, the true Valkyrie! What more need be said?”

Then the Lady Nebulon teleports in and introduces herself as Supernalia. She tells the Defenders that she’s here to save the world from the evil of NEBULON!

Beast doesn’t recognize the name but Valkyrie definitely does. What with all the existing history that I keep alluding to.

Supernalia: “Indeed! I am a bounty hunter from Nebulon’s homeworld come to bring him to justice! He has fled to your Earth, taking sanctuary among the so-called Avengers! Using celestial mind control, he has usurped their will, and -- after decimating part of your world with four pre-set anti-matter bombs -- he plans to use the Avengers to take control of the surviving population!”

Beast goes ‘uh cool story but i’mma verify this real quick by ringing them up’

But then he remembers he already did do that and they were very rude to him!

He remembers this interaction very clearly even though it didn’t happen at all.

Ironically, the Defenders are the ones who are being mind-controlled into accusing other people of being mind-controlled. Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s irony.

Wong suddenly remembers that Nebulon rushed in the previous night but he can’t remember how that interaction actually went.

AH HAH, decides Beast. Clearly proof that Nebulon mind-controlled Wong. Lets go half-cocked everyone.

No, no. Beast decides they’ll need more than just the three of them and wonders who they should call to bolster their numbers to a whole four Defenders. Dr Strange is busy chasing Daimon Hellstrom and Namor soooo...

Valkyrie suggests Silver Surfer because he kicks ass but they have no way to get in contact with him.

Supernalia goes hey allow me.

Supernalia: “Although my planet’s laws forbid direct involvement with alien cultures -- and thus my need of you Defenders -- I can help!”

And she baps Valkyrie in the forehead and instantly transmissions Silver Surfer right to the Sanctum to his existential annoyance.

Silver Surfer: What force has swept me halfway ‘round the world? Who toys with -- the Silver Surfer?”

Valkyrie explains off-panel because this is very much “let me explain! No, there is too much. Let me sum up” kind of day.

CHAPTER 4

We cut back to right after the Silver Surfer knocked everyone on their ass with a warning shot.

Thor: “Surfer -- art thou mad?! Thy ‘warning’ came close to slaying us all!”

Thor gets up to kick Norrin’s rad ass but Valkyrie grabs his arm. She tries to convince him to trust her that Nebulon is controlling the Avengers. She appeals to their shared history, their shared love.

Thor: “Brunnhilde -- thou art truly the one blinded... by thine own prejudice! Because, once, Nebulon stood as thine enemy -- thou takest him for that again!”

Valkyrie: “Thunderer -- once I loved thee -- but now I see -- that thou art -- A FOOL!”

Then she just up and tosses him.

It’s pretty great.

Thor just rights himself midtoss by helicoptering his hammer and tells Valkyrie that she’s the fool. And also that because she fucking threw him, now he knows that its her group that are under some kind of control.

Nebulon starts yelling too because he’s not going to sit by while other people fight his battle so he’s like ‘come on if you’re hard enough, dickfenders’ and Beast is like ‘ok.’

Wasp, team leader, thinks Thor is onto something re: the Defenders being against some kind of influence and asks Iron Man to create a distraction so the Avengers can skedaddle.

Iron Man has the perfect distraction and fires the UNIBEEEEAM. At his own roof, collapsing it on the Defenders.

Iron Man: “Wait till Tony gets the bill for this!”

... so depending on the time frame, either only Nebulon or both him and Wasp are the only ones who don’t know Iron Man is Tony so who are you putting on a show for, Tony?

Or maybe you’re just so used to grousing about the Avengers breaking your shit that you do it even when you do it.

Anyway, since Thor has a hunch that the Defenders are being controlled, he decides that the best thing is to teleport somewhere safe and make a plan.

So Nebulon teleports himself and the Avengers to the Himalayas where he and Thor first met.

The effort nearly kills Nebulon, since his powers have been curtailed by the yell fish. But now they have some space.

Wasp: “And don’t think we don’t appreciate it, Nebulon! But couldn’t you have zapped us to a more temperate climate -- like the Bahamas... or the French Riviera? It mean, it’s COLD here!”

Cap hopes that the Defenders won’t find them somewhere so remote and isolated but Thor, whose idea this was by the by, isn’t so sure because they don’t know who is pulling the strings.

Iron Man: “Good point! Are we dealing with one of our old foes -- one of the Defenders’ -- or perhaps someone out for Nebulon’s head! Let’s face it: we’ve got a wide field to choose from!”

Annnnnnd thennnnn, the Defenders just show up anyway so trying to get some breathing room was a waste of Nebulon’s efforts.

Beast: “Cap, Thor, Iron Man, Jan! You’re all my friends... more than that -- you’re family! So why won’t you believe me when I tell you that this nut’s gonna wipe the whole planet out in a matter of hours! Please -- hand him over or --.”

Nebulon: “Or... NOTHING!”

Then he shoots an energy blast at the Defenders.

Which sadly arcs to the ground with a SHOOOM! and does little more than splash some snow on the Defenders.

But awwww, Beast considers the Avengers family! Shame that once the X-Men pull him back into their orbit, he only hangs out with them and decides never to ask the Avengers for help, either when Professor X gets shot by Stryfe or when trying to solve the Legacy Virus.

I think that social group is a bad influence on Beast. He never broke time or pretended to be gay to dunk on his ex when he was an Avenger. He just got high, practiced polyamory, and yukked it up with his bffsie Wonder Man.

Anyway, Silver Surfer gets up and disses Nebulon for his sad laser blast.

Silver Surfer: “Like all who seek conquest, Nebulon -- you refuse to recognize truth! You alter reality to serve your own malefic ends! But the power you no wield, tyrant, is as nothing compared to that which you once had! You are weak -- as Supernalia said you would be!”

Nebulon is aghast to hear that Supernalia is the one behind all of this. And also aghast when Gargoyle shoots a bio-mystic bolt at him.

Apparently, Gargoyle can shoot bio-mystic bolts. Are there mystic bolts that are not bio? Shrug.

CHAPTER 5

Hey, some of these chapter divisions feel arbitrary. We go from the fight to the fight. At least some other chapter divisions had scene or temporal shifts.

Cap begs the Defenders to fight off Supernalia’s influence. Or the Avengers will fight off Supernalia’s influence for them. Probably via punches.

For whatever reason, this makes Valkyrie go stickycaps.

Valkyrie: “The hour of Earth’s doom draws ever closer -- and, to prevent that doom, we will do whate’er we must! wHaTeVeR wE mUsT!”

Mystifying.

Anyway, with both sides thinking the other side are dumb easily mind-controlled doodoo heads, they both get to the slugfest that neither side wants but thinks there’s no other way to reach the other side but by punching some sense into them.

This panel feels like a microcosm of a lot of Marvel events.

And as this goes on Nebulon just watches the fight with calculating eyes.

I’m sure that’s fine.

Thor and Valkyrie continue sparring verbally, as well as with punches. Valkyrie asks how Thor can let Midgard be destroyed when they both love it so much. And Thor is like ‘for the last time, there’s no danger except from your mysterious new golden pal’

Meanwhile, the Defender’s mysterious new golden pal Supernalia is monitoring the fight from her spaceship. And monitoring the Defenders’ brainwaves.

Thor is actually making Valkyrie doubt. And Supernalia can’t have that.

Supernalia: “I cannot afford to lose control of the Defenders now! For honor’s sake, their rage must grow! And more -- they must retain a psychological surety that cannot be breached! In Valkyrie’s case, the introduction of something... familiar -- something to increase her confidence -- would seem appropriate!”

So Supernalia teleports Valkyrie’s sweet flying horse Aragorn to just. Appear on the Himalayas. Between Valkyrie and Thor.

Valkyrie doesn’t know how her horse suddenly appeared but she’s not going to look a gift teleporting winged horse in the mouth. She jumps on his back and takes to the air.

Thor gets pissed and hammerflings himself after her.

While Thor is chasing Valkyrie around the sky, Iron Man squares up with Silver Surfer.

Silver Surfer tells Iron Man that “you see to halt one who has outraced comets! Soared faster than light itself!” and basically that he rules, Iron Man sucks. And then to prove it, he blasts Iron Man with the power cosmic.

Just that one attack nearly tore Iron Man apart and he’s pretty sure that Silver Surfer was holding back. Oof, that’s some power gap.

BUT MAYBE just maybe if Iron Man puts all of his might into one staggering punch...

It’ll do jack shit to the Surfer.

Well, damn.

Gargoyle fights Wasp but says its not proper for a man to fight a lady. Wasp points out ‘hey you’re fighting me anyway so maybe someone is making you do it.’

Gargoyle: ‘.... NUH UH’

Cool. Good talk.

Supernalia: “This Gargoyle is too... soft! His mind accepts -- but his heart rebels! These beings are not like us! Their minds are filled with too many questions! Their souls overflow with conflicting emotions!”

I can’t believe humans (and Asgardians) have too many feelings and emotions to be easily controlled.

Well, I can believe. It really checks out.

So Supernalia increases the celestial mindwaves to shore up her control, even if it means burning out the Defenders.

Rude.

Thor blasts Valkyrie off of Aragorn with lightning and then catches her, saying he won’t let her fall. So, reasonably enough, Valkyrie elbows him in the face for treating her like a damsel.

They both fall toward the ground. Aragorn catches Valkyrie and Thor catches... a cosmic bolt from Silver Surfer.

You had one job, Iron Man.

And that job was to sneak up on Silver Surfer while he’s self-flagellating for doing a shameful opportunistic attack on Thor.

Iron Man uses those... hip... power pod... things. To zap Silver Surfer’s temples and siphon off some of his power.

And with that power, Iron Man tips a chunk of the mountain on top of Silver Surfer.

This doesn’t keep the Surfer down for long. Despite the fact that trying to contain the incredible surfing energies he absorbed threatens to damage his armor, Iron Man absorbs more when Silver Surfer blasts him, to try to turn the energy back at the Surfer.

Instead, they both explode.

Double KO.

Elsewhere in the fight, Gargoyle blasts Wasp with his bio-mystic bolts, knocking her into the snow.

Gargoyle panics because his bio-mystic bolts are supposed to drain off a fraction of a person’s life-force, not up and kill them.

So Gargoyle shouldn’t have been surprised when Wasp pops back up and zaps him in the chin. And Wasp shouldn’t have been surprised when Gargoyle zaps her back.

She passes out. But so does Gargoyle, to his confusion. His hide should be tough enough to take a truckload of punishment, yet he suddenly feels so weak.

I mean. Wasp is strong enough to blow up a house with her own zaps. But this is probably intended to be Supernalia’s mind control burning him out.

I choose to believe that its Wasp’s cool house-blowing-up might. She’s kicked bigger ass than Gargoyle.

Wasp’s defeat scream momentarily distracts Cap from where he’s fisticuffsing with Beast.

Beast: “Holy cow! I hope she’s not badly hurt!”

Cap: “You hope she’s not -- ?! You can still say that after all you’ve done today? After all the pain this Supernalia has driven the Defenders to cause?”

Beast: “We’ve caused? You’re the ones harboring the lunatic with the anti-matter bombs --.”

There’s no guilt-tripping some people.

Cap throws his mighty shield but Beast must not have heard the song because he not only doesn’t yield, he also catches the shield with his feets.

Then he sleds on it down a snowy incline and tackles Cap.

Beast: “It’s time we quit all this clowning around!”

Cap: “That’s right, Hank! This is serious business -- so hit me! Hit me, blast you! HIT ME!”

Beast: “Hey! wHaT tHe HeCk Am I dOiNg?”

Cap: “Coming to your senses, I hope!”

Beast realizes that Cap dropped his guard and let Beast beat the shit out of him on purpose, let Beast almost kill him.

Cap: “You’re no killer, Hank! And no force, however great, could make you kill! I counted on that fact to snap you out of it!”

Wow, good going, Cap!

Out of everyone here, you’re the only one who successfully snapped anyone out of anything. Although I think Wasp coulda if she had played possum and let Gargoyle think he killed her instead of popping up to zap him.

But Cap has insight into Hank. That probably helped.

Me and Jan know jack about Gargolye.

CHAPTER 6

With exactly two people conscious but not fighting anymore, Nebulon is like ‘hah eat shit Supernalia’

So Supernalia appears.

Beast feels like he’s about to keel over even though he beat the shit out of Cap and Cap feels weaker too. They blame Supernalia because its very easy to blame someone whose fault everything is.

But Supernalia blames Nebulon.

Nebulon slams a drama bomb in response.

Nebulon: “Do not seek to reclaim the upper hand with more lies, Supernalia! Such sophistry is unbecoming in... my wife!”

I heard that in Borat voice and I hate myself a little.

But now that Supernalia’s relation to Nebulon has been established, Nebulon is like ‘but why are you trying to ruin my exile?’

Supernalia: “You were convicted of high crimes, my husband -- and the sentence was a choice of honorable death by your own hand... or ignominious exile! In 500 generations, none of our people have ever chosen exile! All have proudly faced extinction! But you, lacking courage, brought shame upon your wife and children!”

HE HAS KIDS??

Anyway, she came to Earth to just. Kinda. Kill him. To restore honor to their family.

But when she got there, she found that he had already made friends and decided well I need some pawns of my own. So I can kill him.

Nebulon isn’t really impressed because in his one day as an exile, he’s had some epiphanies.

Nebulon: “Unlike you, I have traveled far across this universe! I have learned to see in new ways! Our concepts of honor are archaic! Our laws are cruel! I now dare to dream higher dreams, for I have learned what it means to have -- friends!”

Supernalia: “I have been your friend... and much more! Since our childhood betrothal have I stood by you -- despite your constant avoidance of responsibilities! Despite your failure to achieve glory or rank!”

Oof, imagine if your childhood friend and spouse told you that being exiled on Earth taught him what friendship really means.

I have to imagine that Cap and Beast are just listening to this like ‘god why do cosmic people always have to dump their relationship baggage on Earth?’

Supernalia then tries to tell Beast and Cap that Actually Nebulon is up to no good.

Beast is like yeah nice try.

But this time Supernalia has actual proof evidence.

She dispels the invisibility cloak hiding the Ennui Device that Nebulon left on a prior trip to Earth and is now using to drain energy from the Avengers and Defenders to beef himself up.

Now, Cap and Beast turn to Nebulon like ‘but buddy, why?’ and also to punch him a little bit, in a friendly manner.

Nebulon: “I did what I had to -- to survive! Believe me -- I truly wanted the friendship you offered -- but observing the unfolding battle, I realized I could never find peace on this or any world -- without the POWER!”

And this rude boy who doesn’t understand what friendship means punches both Cap and Beast.

Beast sprawls right at Supernalia’s feet completely burned out and goes hey feel like stepping in??

Supernalia: “I can do nothing directly, Beast. I am not permitted to interfere!”

Beast: “You... stupid... self-deluding... idiots! Don’t you understand that all this has happened... because you already have... interfered?!?!”

Supernalia: “So           I              have!”

And since now she’s done the big bad transgress of the Prime Directive, she decides that unlike her shitbird husband, she’s going to do the honorable thing and kill herself.

I. Have no words. At this entire exchange.

Its too much.

Nebulon is distraught so slaps the gun out of her hand and begs her to instead of killing herself, not do that. She could stay on Earth and rule at his side!

This latest bout of cosmic interpersonal drama gives Cap the opportunity to muster his strength and throw his mighty shield.

It deflects the ray emitter of the Ennui Device so it hits Nebulon instead of the Avengerdefenders.

Except, oops, the Ennui Beam was calibrated for “humanoid physio-psycho energies” so instead of draining his energy, the Ennui Beam just straight up starts killing Nebulon.

Amazing how you can stretch vocabulary to encompass humans, Asgardians, mutants, power cosmic imbued Zenn-Lavians, and whatever demonic biz is going on with the Gargoyle.

It sure is amazing how it affects all these different things as intended but its accidentally fatal in a way that will help wrap up the story.

Beast wet noodle jumps to try to redirect the beam and save Nebulon but Supernalia shoves him out of the way and then jumps into the beam herself.

Supernalia: “Thus, I join my husband -- in oblivion!”

Geez, when she sets her mind to killing herself, she sticks with it

.__.

Nebulon agrees that Actually This is the Right and Correct Course for them, I guess because couple counseling is a hassle.

Then the Ennui Device overloads and explodes and Nebulon and Supernalia turn to their true forms of giant weird fish people with Rocky Horror Picture Show lips inside fish lips.

Beast laments that Supernalia didn’t just let him save both of them but she’s like ‘HONORRR’ and then dies.

Thor: “I called Nebulon friend and he decieved me! Yet now -- Thor mourns his passing!”

Silver Surfer: “What manner of beings were they, to cherish honor so much... and value life so little?”

Cap: “Perhaps, Surfer -- not so different from us. Not so different -- at all!”

Okay, shut up your face, Cap.

First off, I don’t think much of an honor code that says its okay to mind control and lie to people and use them as pawns in a way that could kill them but then also goes ‘this is an honorable death’ when you stupid yourself to death.

And neither should you! Don’t put a poetic, poignant spin on things! This whole affair was a weird couples spat that two space weirdos forced you to participate in!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I went back and covered an inconsequential annual and now I can’t go back and not do that. I wasted my time for you. Also, like and reblog. I need positive reinforcement. It makes me happy.

[eat0crow]

Jasonette first meeting please?

I’ve written a couple Jasonette first meetings already but I was scrolling through a prompt list and -You just snuck into my apartment and wait is that blood-stuck out to me. Hope you enjoy!

This fic was beta-read by the lovely @the17thtearoom

Is That Blood

Kwami knows that Marinette is a scatter-brained mess no matter what time of day it is. She would like to deny it, but really, no one would believe her. She blames Tikki, even if she was a disaster before the little fortune god came into her life. Nino has the proof, and has justly been sworn to silence.

There is never a need to relive the fourth grade. Never.

There’s a general swirl of chaos that follows Marinette wherever she goes: Paris, London, New York, now Gotham. It’s one of the reasons, maybe even the reason that despite desperately needing someone around to help out with the rent—Gotham charged way too much for a studio apartment, how the hell is it more expensive than Manhattan—she’s never looked for a roommate. Not after spending a month bunking with Alya, and driving the girl insane.

Alya hadn’t been the one to ask her to leave, she’d claimed Marinette was fine. Marinette had seen the way her eye twitched after the fourth time, in a week's span, she had come home tracking some dark, vaguely sticky substance behind her.

For the sake of their friendship, Marinette had moved out a little over a week later.

With this in mind, Marinette thinks she’s being overwhelmingly okay with the situation when her first question, upon stepping foot back into her apartment, happens to be, “Is that blood?”

Not, “how did you get in here”, or “who are you?” Is that blood? When did her life get this weird? Oh yeah, when she—a newly turned fourteen-year-old girl—was entrusted with guardianship over some of the most powerful deities in creation. That’s when.

It’s only after watching the man for an uncomfortable amount of time that Marinette notices the sickly crackling of unnatural magic clinging to the air around him. There’s a pool of dark magic sitting in her living room. It’s coating him, clinging to his very being and dripping, toxic, onto the pale beige carpeting.

God the carpeting, blood stains are a bitch to get out. At least he had the sense to push back the coffee table, and not sit on the couch that Marinette’s fairly sure, has been in this apartment since before she was born.

The stranger pauses his stitching mid-action, needle freezing halfway through the gash on his leg. Marinette is concerned.

“No, it’s cranberry juice,” he says sarcastically, even as he presses a towel, her pink bunny towel no less, against his leg. It’s clearly an attempt to hide the murder scene she just walked in on, but honestly, the towel is turning a disgusting shade of rusty brown.

Marinette takes one fortifying look around her living room, paying particular attention to the sticky wet spot her home invader is sitting in. He had better not have touched her one true love. If the coffee maker is broken she will break him.

“You should finish stitching that up before you bleed to death all over my carpet.”

“I’m not going to bleed out in the middle of your living room.”

Marinette grabs her emergency first aid kit, the one she keeps tucked safely in the umbrella stand. It’s a beast, and maybe Marinette had been a little obsessive when it came to putting it together, but she had spent a good portion of her life fighting. She liked to be prepared, even if being prepared meant carrying around a walking pharmacy.

Delicately, Marinette did her best to avoid mashing the blood further into the carpet. “I have a tourniquet in here just in case, but it doesn’t look like we need it. You did remember to disinfect the cut before you started stitching, right?”

She’s close enough now, knelt next to the man, to really make out his features. The pressure she forces down on the wound makes him wince, and Marinette blinks. Green eyes, there’s an aura to them that reminds Marinette distinctly of Tikki’s magic, a faint light just barely visible—Lazarus light. Well, that explained the corruption clinging to the air.

“I didn’t think you would be too thrilled with me poking around your bathroom,” he hisses out, sharp and very clearly in pain.

Marinette would usually let a lie like that go, but her patience is getting dangerously thin. “You could have spent another minute grabbing the peroxide from the medicine cabinet. It’s not like I can’t see your bloody footprints marking your trail. You grabbed my favorite towel, but not the one thing that prevents a staph infection. Who taught you first aid? Honestly! ”

A dark brow raises upward, clear interest taking over the strangers face. “You’re remarkably calm for someone who just found a random stranger dripping blood all over their apartment.”

“I’m more than a little pissed over that. You owe me a carpet cleaning.” Marinette grabs the travel-sized bottle of peroxide out of her kit, along with her sterilized needle, lighter, actual stitching thread—why the fuck is he using dental floss? Why?—and a roll of gauze. She’ll probably need more later, but for now, this is good. “You’re giving yourself way too much credit. This isn’t even close to the strangest thing I’ve seen this week. Now, this is going to sting like a bitch, but you broke into my apartment so, you deserve it.”

He lets out a long string of curses, biting down hard on his hand as Marinette pours the disinfectant over the wound. It’s a good three inches long and at least a centimeter deep. He needs a hospital but, seeing as his first choice was breaking and entering, Marinette’s probably as close to a professional as he’ll see.

“Fucking shit,” he grounds out around clenched teeth. Marinette has to take out the stitches he’s already done. They’re uneven and sloppy, probably because he’d been using the needle from her sewing kit. She slips her surgical scissors, the fresh pair she just held under her lighter, against the floss. His face loses all color as she carefully works the four rows he made out. “I know you’re pissed, but I don’t deserve this.”

Marinette casts him her most deadpan expression as she lights the curved stitching needle on fire. “Who's the dumbass who didn’t disinfect his—what? Stab wound? It looks like a stab wound, do you have any idea where that knife could have been? You’re lucky I’m nice enough not to let you get a blood infection.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Nice enough. You’re a regular ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who broke in.” Marinette takes satisfaction in stabbing her needle into the skin and watching as his smirk turns into a grimace. “How did you get in here anyway? The front door was still locked.”

“I kicked in the back door,” he admits, with just the faintest hint of shame. “It was hanging on by a bolt and a decades worth of rust.”

“You’re lucky you’re already bleeding.”

“I was in a hurry, okay,” he says defensively. “My friend lives in the same apartment number one complex over. I apparently was off a bit with my directions. I promise, I don't usually break into random people’s homes.”

“Guess I’m just special then.” Marinette has to hide her smile by occupying herself with cleaning up. She’s angry at him, damn it!

“I’ll fix the door for you if you want? And I’ll pay for one of those rug doctors Walmart rents.” He carefully stretches out his leg. He’s a bit unsteady on his feet. A mix between pain and blood loss no doubt. Wordlessly she offers up a bottle of Tylenol.

She regrets handing it to him a nanosecond later when he takes a double dose and then, throws back a third for good measure.

“Oh, you’re going to be paying my cleaning bill all right, but the door can wait,” Marinette says, getting up, and heading over to her kitchen. There is no problem in the world food doesn’t make better. “You look like you could really use some breakfast, and I’ve had nowhere near my daily dose of caffeine. We can figure everything out after we’ve eaten.”

The man follows her over, leaning heavily against the wall to support his weight. It’s a sorry sight. He makes an aborted move to help her before deciding that nope, he really can’t stand for all that long. “Did I tell you how weird you are yet? I feel like I should have.”

“Would you rather I call the cops and kick you out?” Marinette asks, pushing the coffee maker to the very edge of the counter. He can reach it if he tries. Marinette fully plans to make him. With a bit more force than necessary, she slams down her jar of coffee mix. “Clearly you’re lucid enough to make some coffee while I fry up some eggs.”

There’s a spark of amusement in the stranger's eyes. His smirk is back, and he watches Marinette with something like glee. “Sure thing, firefly.”

“It’s Marinette,” she corrects, not bothering to turn away from the stove. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d say it’s nice to meet you but...you did break into my house.”

“That’s fair,” the stranger agrees. Reaching for her phone instead of the stack of coffee filters. The bastard, doesn’t he realize how thin her sanity is stretching? “Jason Todd. You mind if I use your phone for a minute. Roy can stop by Home Depot, and get you a new door. So we won’t be reinstalling something that was already on its last legs.”

Marinette feels a headache coming on. “I’ll make enough for three then. Just have him pick up some kind of cleaner so the stain doesn’t set in.”

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 9

As she and Aizawa approached the door to the principal's office, she noticed he went to slow down to knock but Eras wasn’t dumb.

She saw that camera hidden in the wood of the door.

Without missing a beat, she walked forward through the now open doors as Aizawa faltered for half a second. Muttering the words ‘fuckin rat’ under his breath and Eras took a sharp breath as she held back a snort. Instead, she turned her attention to Nedzu and All Might. The latter was sitting on a couch and the minute Eras turned her head to him and sniffed, she could smell the metallic scent of blood. He was covered in the scent. A tell tale sign of injury.

Not that she didn’t know about that before she entered the room.

Is it really that surprising for a few people to figure out a national secret when it was literally walking around?

“Ah Eras-san,” of course the rat had listened in on their conversation at the gate, “Welcome, please have a seat. Tea?” Nedzu asked, his tone deceptively light.

“Thank you, If you have any green tea that would be delightful. I can only stomach certain kinds of tea.” That was a lie, well kind of. In reality Eras just didn’t like most human drinks or food, preferring coffee and Boba to just tea. Green Tea’s are the only kind she can have without it tasting like getting hit in the face with a bunch of spices. A consequence of her vampire attributes.

“Of course, I'll prepare that right away!” Eras nodded and watched as Nedzu started making the tea before taking her gaze off of him to settle it on the #1 pro.

She narrowed her eyes.

The man flinched.

Good.

“Before we start Nedzu,” an flip of the tail told her he was listening, “I think we could agree that All Might should save his time for when the Bakugo’s get here considering it would be a shock for them to see the hero deflate like a balloon after a 5 year old’s birthday party.”

All Might instantly deflated and started hacking up blood. Nedzu was cackling and Eras could hear the softly muttered ‘deserved’ from behind her where Aizawa was standing, leaned against the wall.

“How?!?” All Might stammered. Eras just sighed and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her face the picture of unimpressed.

“You are a walking national secret that could potentially throw the country of japan into chaos with merely announcing said injury. I believe it's quite honestly predictable that at least someone would know about it. Besides, Nedzu wasn’t the only individual trying to get access to the veil. People in the veil are beyond what constitutes as human. Especially when it comes to life expectancy. Some people who wish to live long lives to further their ideals come to the veil seeking answers. Supervillains and the like.” The man's face paled at the last part and Eras felt a bit of relief at that.

At least he wasn’t a total idiot when it came to reading between the lines.

(Eras had been keeping track of All for One since she learned of his existence. Even after the man supposedly died, she made sure to keep an ear out.)

“Besides, even if I didn’t know beforehand, as you’ve demonstrated you're consistently either covered in blood, or seconds away from expelling it. I could smell it the moment I walked in here.” Eras stated simply. Reveling in the man’s confused fear.

That was until a tea cup was placed in front of her.

Nedzu was vibrating with glee.

Oh. Oh no. She had forgotten Nedzu didn’t know what race she was yet. Fuck.

“Thank you.” she said, conveniently ignoring her slip up. What he doesn’t know can’t be used against her.

“You're quite welcome. The Bakugo’s will be here in another 20 minutes since it does take a bit of time to arrive from their place of work.” The rat smiled that polite smile that grated her nerves wrong. That was the fake smile of something inhuman trying to act as society demands.

Just like her own tight lipped smile.

She sighed and turned to Nedzu. Eyes that were once black were now glowing a toxic green as she allowed herself to smile fully, fangs displayed for everyone in the room to see. Ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the occupant still leaned against the wall and sputtering All Might, Eras kept her gaze on Nedzu. Conveying with her inhuman qualities that she wouldn’t judge him.

The feral smile she got in return was satisfying.

“You can ask Nedzu. You have 20 minutes after all.” Eras allowed her eyes to dim back to their black and returned to her usual smile.

Nedzu kept his feral smile in place as his eyes gleamed and Eras came to a conclusion. She liked the chimera. Sure she will still call him rat man and other nicknames but he was truly just curious. Also, he stopped at verbal answers instead of testing every and anything like the elves.

“Based on what I’ve seen, you're a vampire. Though you do greatly contradict the basic stereotype for your kind found in lore and novels. Evident especially with the green glow we were allowed to witness, as well as having short fangs on the bottom row of teeth with the usual top and longer ones. Is that the norm or are you different?”

Right for the gut huh? Eras returned her sharp smile to her face. She could appreciate intellect and getting to the heart of a matter quickly and efficiently.

“As you’ve already hypothesized,” she saw Nedzu’s grin grow wider, “I am not normal for my kind. Specifically, my title is an ‘Origin’, in lore and new veil members though, I am referred to as a pureblood. True to the name, I was born the way I am a long time ago.”

“How intriguing. Muska had informed us before but vampires were the original members of the veil and held most of the information. I won’t press for more since we were already told we were going to be limited, however what exactly is the hierarchy like for Vampires? I assume Origin is a title for someone relatively high on the social hierarchy.”

Eras leaned back in her chair, sighing a bit as she remembered the fact that she was directly involved in politics, even if she was only called upon for those meetings, but she shook her head to get back on track.

“Essentially, we are ruled through clans, which then are ranked socially and politically by generation. Not generation as in blood descendants but generation by creation.” Eras shifted a bit as she gestured to her fangs. “Purebloods can create vampire brethren, fledglings, through a process I will not explain for reasons. These are known as 1st generations and resemble what you’re used to except things like weakness to silver and garlic. Honestly, I have no clue as to where that comes from. As you expect, anyone they turn are 2nds and they make 3rds. There are rules in place for those who are 4th generation though because at that point, for unknown reasons, the created creature is not a vampire but a Parafron, a bloodthirsty hunter that loses its mind within the first 100 years.”

Nedzu seemed to catch the implication because his eyes seemed to gleam brighter, if that was possible.

“You're a clan leader.” He simply stated. Eras nodded with a small smirk.

“Yes, as you may have noticed, I have a… mark... on my neck. Contrary to belief, I didn’t get a tattoo. I was born with it to mark what clan I’m from. A side effect from being an origin. My clan, however, is smaller than the rest due to my specific responsibilities that come with the mark.”

She could tell Nedzu noticed she was skirting around names and titles. Thankfully the chimera simply nodded and looked towards his computer. His smile dimmed and the gleam faded from his eyes as he turned back.

“Seems the Bakugo’s have arrived! Present Mic is currently meeting and leading them here.”

Eras nodded and she returned her now narrowed gaze to an All Might who squirmed. He had definitely forgotten her ire during her and Nedzu’s convo.

A mistake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Muska was very concerned.

Why?

Greenie was very concerning.

When Eras had left, Muska turned back to greenie who had been spluttering still from Eras' blatant appreciation for saving her ass. The teen looked shocked, as if he didn’t just save her from third degree chemical burns. Sighing, which grabbed the teen’s attention back to her, Muska raised an eyebrow and stared at Midoriya.

“Did you expect her not to thank you? You literally dragged me out of the way of an explosion while I was frozen. Admittedly, not my best moment. You acted just like a hero and all that jazz, you deserve the thanks. Oh btw, when Eras means if you need anything, she means if you need anything. Even hiding a body she’d help as long as she gets plausible deniability.” Muska said, watching as very green eyes started to water.

At the last bit, Midoriya let out a wet snort and held a hand to his mouth to muffle it. Then he darted up, ramrod straight, as he returned wide eyes to Muska’s. He seemed to search her for something which made Muska more than just a little confused.

“Do you mean it?”

It was softly said. She almost didn’t hear it, but when she did she was even more confused.

“Mean what?”

“That I acted like a h-hero?”

“Of course? Why would I lie about that?” she asked, confusion lacing every word in genuine puzzlement.

It seemed that was the breaking point because Midoriya broke out into sobs. Not knowing what to do, Muska stared wide-eyed as her new friend(?) started to break down in front of her. Not knowing if touch would help, which she also really didn’t want to do because she wasn’t fond of contact with people she didn’t know well (nor did she know what to say), she just stared awkwardly. The part that worried her most though, was how near silent his crying was. As if he wouldn’t, no couldn’t, make a sound.

The sobs tapered off and Muska sat up and turned towards Midoriya. She made sure he calmed down enough to listen, but not quite enough for the sheepish ‘I’m sorry’ to finish coming out of his mouth.

“It's a fine greenie. If you’d be willing, mind explaining if I did something wrong? I also assume I’m on friendship level one considering it’s the second day of school so I don’t expect answers but I’d appreciate a heads up. Are they at least happy tears?” Muska made sure her features were softer than normal, a hard earned skill since she had a resting bitch face that scared people away when she wasn’t focused on playing nice.

That and the barking. Could you blame her if it worked in keeping assholes away?

Midoriya snapped his head up and started throwing his hands around in a rejection gesture before he whipped off excess tears in order to speak over the floodgates of his eyes. Seriously, he could probably fill a bathtub.

“Oh no no, these are happy tears! It’s just, no one has ever really said that to me before. The hero thing. So I was just… really happy?” A hand raised to sheepishly hold the back of Greenie's neck as left over tears spilled and a bright red blush poked through tan freckled skin.

“Why wouldn’t they? I mean Hero’s seem pretty important to Japanese society so like, there must have been a few?” Muska said. This conversation was giving her very bad vibes. Like curtains that block you from seeing someone in a hospital bed. All ominous and nerve wracking.

“I uh-” He cuts off, thinking hard about what he was about to say. He glanced over a few times, soaking in the honest confusion on her face, and possibly going over every detail of their meetings so far this year.

“I- I well, I may have manifestedmyquirkduringtheentranceexam-” Midoriya stuttered and launched the words out of his mouth fast enough that they were barely intelligible, only to slam his mouth shut with a click and wide eyes.

“Ok? I am…. Still very confused here. What does manifesting your quirk that late have to do with the hero bit? Granted that does explain your lack of control.” Muska added, somewhat regretting the last bit when Midoriya flinched,

Then, he shot up ramrod straight and disbelief started to enter his eyes as he processed her last statement.

“I was- I was quirkless most of my life?” He added, his posture defensive and prepared to take a hit. Emotionally or physically.

“So?”

A minute passed. Then 2 more.

Midoriya promptly burst into tears again and Muska sighed. A world weary heavy sigh.

She’s so done with everything today.

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Tags:

@baguettehead

[dailyaudiobible]

01/25/2021 DAB Transcript

Genesis 50:1-Exodus 2:10, Matthew 16:13-17:9, Psalms 21:1-13, Pr 5:1-6

Today is the 25th day of January welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is a joy and an honor to be here with you today as we move into our workweek. And there's a surprise for us today. I have a surprise for you. We’re gonna finish the first book of the Bible today. We’ll finish the book of Genesis. So, just like that we’ve move through a whole book of the Bible, a big one too. And look at all we have covered. From the origin story of creation Adam and Eve, the Tower of Babel, Noah and the flood, Abraham going into a land he didn't know following a God he had never met and entering into a covenantal relationship. And covenants and covenantal language permeates the Bible. The son of promise, Isaac and then his son Jacob, and then his son Joseph, a lot of ground has been covered and lot to plot…to apply to our lives has been placed before us and planted in our hearts. And then so today we will finish the story of Joseph by reading the 50th chapter of Genesis, and then we’ll move in Exodus and when we get there, we’ll kind of do a little flyby and get a little kind of context of where we’re going, and then we’ll read the first couple chapters of Exodus. So, we’re reading from the English Standard Version this week. Genesis chapter 50.

Introduction to the book of Exodus:

Okay. And that concludes the book of Genesis. So, well done to us all for making it through the first full book of the Bible, which brings us now to the second book of the Bible, known as Exodus. And if we remember Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, the first five books of the Bible are known as the Torah or the Pentateuch. So, we’re entering the second book of the Torah. And if we remember when we were talking about Genesis, we’re like really really trying to establish the fact that there's a family line here - Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, whose Israel, and then he has children, and they are the children of Israel. That’s important because it affects the whole Bible. It’s important to know where they came from and their origin story and how everything became what it became because their story so parallels our own life journey. So, when we left the book of Genesis just now Joseph died, had made his brothers promise to bring his bones out of Egypt when they left. Now as we turn our attention to the book of Exodus, we’re moving forward several centuries. And, so, with one turn of the page hundreds of years have gone by. And, so, with the flip of a page then everybody that we’ve been traveling with has died and their progeny has flourished. And, so, we’re hundreds of years in the future now with the future generations of promise and they are still in Egypt. And as we will see their…their prosperity, their flourishing begins to make the Egyptians uneasy because they can one day outgrow them and take over. And, so, they enslave them. And what we will learn is that this slavery goes on for 400 years. So, that's a long time to be holding onto a promise about land, right? And the oppression of the Hebrews by the Egyptians doesn't go unnoticed. And, so, we will meet another major figure in the Bible. We’ll watch him grow up. And he has a very interesting childhood. We’ll watch them flee Egypt. We’ll watch him return from Egypt to set God's people free and his name is Moses. So, basically in Exodus we’ll meet Moses's, we’ll see the plight of the Hebrew people, we’ll watch Moses become the leader of these people and we’ll watch a very drama filled confrontation between God and Egypt and in particular the king of Egypt the Pharaoh. Eventually, God's people will be freed from their slavery and sort of the center part of Exodus will deal with their trials in the desert. And then as we move into the last part of Exodus God will begin to weave His story into the fabric of this new culture. These recently freed slaves are in the desert and God is establishing a completely new culture in the desert among them and He will be weaving Himself into everything that they do. And we’ll see things like the tabernacle and the way that sacrifices are to be given to God. And, so, what we’re watching is God culture making. And we get to sit on the front row and watch it happen. And, so, let's begin. Exodus chapter 1

Commentary:

Okay. So, we've already transitioned from Genesis to Exodus and talked about that.

Let's look at one thing and Jesus says in the book of Matthew today because it's really famous. “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul or what shall a man give in return for his soul?” So, this is obviously the call to the path of a disciple of Jesus Christ. Like this is Jesus saying what it's gonna take. “If you want to come after me deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me.” Let's stop there and talk about deny yourself and take up your cross and follow Jesus. That seems to be the precursor of one of the greatest most pervasive themes of the Bible – endurance. And we don't like to hear about it and we don't like to do it that well. And, so, we don't hear about it a lot. And if we can avoid it, we do. And yet, Jesus is saying yeah, the life following me is a life where you’re denying the false identity that you are trying to craft and build. You’re denying yourself and you’re taking up your cross and following me. You’re taking on my identity. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. And that's famous. And, so, we…we think of it in terms of like being willing to die for the cause of Christ, to become a martyr. And, indeed, that has been required of many brothers and sisters over the millennia, but it's deeper than this. It's not just a willingness to humanly die, it's the act of dying to yourself, taking up your cross and following Him. In other words, dying to yourself so that you can actually live for Christ. Later in the New Testament when we get to the letters of Paul, we will hear Paul describe it as a living sacrifice. Okay. So, that's kind of the lay of the land. If you want to be a disciple of Jesus then your identity isn't a worldly crafted thing, it's the identity of the child of the most-high God, a disciple of Christ, and you will have to participate in the act of endurance often. We’re still kind of at the beginning of the year. I…mean it’s not my favorite thing to talk about, endurance. The Bible just brings it up over and over and over and over. And I have over the years, I’ve thought, “why? Like, why can’t your yoke be easy and your burden light? Like, we like those kinds of scriptures better.” But I have come to realize that endurance isn't the absence of God's blessing. Endurance is actually evidence of God's blessing. Think about it. Think about your life. What have the greatest lessons that you have ever learned come through? Challenge, endurance, something that you had to see through, something that you had to stick with. This is how we grow. And Jesus, God made flesh is telling us that this is a part of following Him. In other words, this is a part of how it's supposed to go. So, we've got a reframe some things and rewire some things because none of us likes to go through difficulty and challenge and most of the time we wallow in it, we get stuck in it, we dig a hole there, we camp out there when we’re supposed to move through it and gain strength and wisdom and keep going. But just normally, we get mad at God, and walk away and get rebellious and act like a toddler and only to find that we missed…we…like it took so much longer than it had to take. And we missed so much that we just misunderstood that “I am apparently going into a season of endurance here, of challenge and obstacle. And, yeah, I'm gonna still hate it. It's not fun.” But it is also not a waste of time. It's not without purpose. And Jesus is telling us this right out of the gate. And then He something interesting. “What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” In other words if we could have a life of ease and get everything that we wanted but we’d lost our identity, we got sucked into creating a false identity because of all the stuff that we have achieved and all of the stuff that we have and we thought that this is who we are and we lost the plot of the story that we are a child of the most-high, then in the end, what does that profit a person? It’s a pile of stuff. It may be cool stuff, but it's a pile of stuff. Hundred years from now nobody's gonna care about any of that stuff except for maybe antique dealers. And, so, let's pour that into our coffee and stir it around today and keep it with us. Endurance is unfortunately my friends, a part of the journey. Endurance, fortunately my friends is a part of the journey. This is how we grow. Let's just bring it really close. Let's pretend we decided that today is the last day we’re going to go through the Bible in community and we step off this train, we don't go any further, we don't endure until the end, we don't maintain the rhythm until the end, we are going to lose so much that God will gift us through His word. But those of us who stick it out show up every day and continue to show up every day, week by week, month by month, we’re going to see transformation in our lives. And this is about the time where were starting to think about, maybe not doing the New Year's resolutions anymore. Like, yeah, salad’s getting’ old and all the stuff that goes with it. And then there's all the temptations all around us to just jump off the wagon of health. And, so, we do. We’re like just this once. And then it becomes the trajectory that we head in. And, so, we can get to the year…end of the year having had wonderful goals for the year that we didn't endure and so we didn't achieve. If we want to achieve being a disciple of Jesus, then we’re gonna have to deny ourselves and take up our cross and follow Him.

Prayer:

Jesus, we enter into that. We invite Your Holy Spirit into that to apply it to our lives in places that need attention in this area right now. But we also acknowledge, You're not asking for something You didn't model. Like You’re not demanding something that You didn't show how it's done and explain it. And we have all these kinds of ideas about what it is to deny ourselves and take up our cross and follow You when at the end of the day this really does boil down to what is driving us. How is it that we are trying to achieve an identity? What is making us continue forward on any given path? What we have to do is lay down anything that's not a path that pursues You. The things that distract us or the things that pull us away, what does that profit us? Help us to see that clearly Holy Spirit, we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s the website, it’s where you find out what’s going on around here always. It’s how to get connected. So, be familiar. Come visit. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can...you can do all this within the app as well.

Be familiar with the Community section. That’s where the Prayer Wall lives. That’s where different links to social media, different channels on social media we participate in. It’s how to get connected in that way.

The Daily Audio Bible Shop is there with things to take this journey deeper, things to take this journey wider, things to just wrap ourselves in and be involved and understand that we’re involved in a community as we make this journey through the Scriptures. So, check it out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible that can be done at dailyaudiobible.com as well or in the app as well. And I thank you. If…if the mission that we share in common here to bring the spoken word of God read fresh every day and given freely to the world to anyone who will listen to it anywhere upon this beautiful planet that God has given us to be home any time of day or night, and to build community around that rhythm so that we know we’re not alone – we’re not alone in our quest to move through the Bible and understand it, but we’re not alone, period. We’re not alone, we’re in community together as we take this journey. If that has meant something in your life, then thank you for your partnership. There’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app, the link, there’s a button in the upper right-hand corner or if you prefer the mail, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or there are number of numbers that you can use. In the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number to call. If you are in the UK or Europe 44-20-3608-8078 is the number or if you are in Australia or that part of the world. 61-3-8820-5459 is the number to call.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi this is Amy calling from the center of Canada. I…I’m lying awake in bed again, another sleepless night. I suffer from insomnia and it's exasperated my…by my depression. I also have type one diabetes and have been unemployed for almost a year now. I feel like I have a lot on my plate. And the thing that I can't stop thinking about and I feel almost obsessive about at this point is finding a partner, a husband. I feel really feel really lonely and I’m…I feel angry that God has let me have this strong desire for my whole life that I have not been able to get rid of or fulfill. And I know it's not up to me but it's really hard for me to let go of trying to do all the right things and go on the dating apps and it all feels so empty.

Hello, Daily Audio Bible this is Duane from Wisconsin. All praise and glory to our wonderful Lord and savior Jesus Christ. Today is January 21st. Yes, I've been away for a bit. My wife and I took a vacation. We went out to see our youngest daughter, our 9th granddaughter was born on Christmas Day and they live out in Seattle. So, we took the train from Milwaukee out to Seattle. So, that was fun to see the beautiful country they God has created. So, everyone's doing well. And I want to thank all of you for your prayers. I am calling in for God's Smile and then there was a gentleman who called in and he said he only has apparently a few months to live. He has cancer and I apologize I can't remember your name, but you wanted us to pray for you. So, Lord we lift up God's Smile and this gentleman who was told that he doesn't have long on this earth. He's battling cancer. Be with God’s Smile Lord. We ask for Your comfort and peace. She is such a joy for us Lord and the peace she gives us, we are asking that You would give her that piece, the piece that she…that flows through her from You to us Lord, we're now asking You would allow it to flow from us to her and that she would get the rest she needs and the strength she needs to carry on and be a light for You as she is. We ask that You be with this gentleman who's battling cancer who has a wife and children Lord. We're asking that You will give him extended time on this earth to be a light for him for his wife to be there with his children and grandchildren. We want to lift this up to You are great and precious Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. And God bless.

Good morning my name is Soniato here from Ontario CA. Please key from my family in Boston they have Covid 19. Her name is Jeannie – Jeanine, Evelyn, Gobanni. Please pray for them for healing. Thank you. God bless you.

Good evening everybody this is God’s Smile here. You know, this community’s a beautiful thing and sometimes a caller just touches you very deep inside and I've just listened to a lady who's recently got out of hospital with Covid an she said that her husband had left her after 46 years. She's no help at the moment and she said that the home health hasn't kicked in. And she's alone. So, I don't know your name dear lady, but I'd like to pray for you. Father God, we as a community, we wrap our owns around this lady and we ask that You would breathe and surround her with Your love not that Your love is never there but Father would You whip it up, would You whip that love up so that it is felt and seen. May she hear You as she reads Your word. And Father when this home health kicks in, I ask dear Lord, I ask because I can come to You and ask these things that this home help would be more than just a help, she would become a friend. And could I go as far to ask dear Lord that You would give her a Christian lady? Wouldn't that be just wonderful? Father I don't know if she has a church, but I pray the church around her would support her. Time's ticking away. I send you my love and a kiss. Kiss kiss. Love you all.

Hi family this is Biola from Maryland I hope you're all doing well. Brian and Jill God bless you. God bless your ministry. We're looking forward to China's little baby. Well, I pray that God will continue to touch her and protect her. Family today is January 22nd. Today would have been my father's birthday. He went home to be with the Lord in 2016 September 20. So, I just want to ask for prayer especially for my mom who is still grieving his death that God would just uphold her and be with her Jesus’ name. A listener from Montana, oh my gosh sister. I listened to your message like two or three times. I was so intrigued and convicted by what you said. Sister, you have such a sweet spirit. I am so happy that you found Daily Audio Bible. You know it is because of new listeners like you that I am proud to give to Daily Audio Bible. It is ministry worth sewing into. Sister I pray that God will continue to let you experience His joy. I can…I can tell from your voice that joy in spite of the blindness I am thanking God for your life and for your sweet 2-year-old and for your husband and for your marriage and I pray that God will continue to just wrap His arms around you and just show you His love intangible ways in the name of Jesus. And then I'm also praying for the brother who called in and said he was blind, and he just found Daily Audio Bible app. Oh wonderful brother. I pray that as…__ word is you walk by faith not by sight that God will show you different things in your life and He will answer your prayers. Before you call He will answer in the name of Jesus. Now Sarah from London I am praying for you sister that God will touch you He will continue to wrap His arms around you He will make your heart for Him. You will have a heart that follows hard after Him in Jesus…

This is Chili from Florida and I'm calling in for an urgent prayer request. I've had some heart issues for quite a while and now I'm in the…the hospital. You know chest pains and just really scared right now. Trying to have faith and trust in the Lord that His hands of healing will heal and touch my body and get me through this. It's just…it's just a scary time, you know, 'cause I did have to also confess to my wife of a sin. I sinned against her recently. So, my hearts also broken. So, I just really need prayer with you guys 'cause I'm just scared right now. Thank you guys I love you very much and I've been with this group for years…

Hi Daily Audio Bible this is Abba’s Joy. It's been a while since I've called in but first, I just want to say I'm so excited because I read through the entire Bible with you all last year and it's been something that I've wanted to do for so long, so many years as a believer. And I finally did it and it was life changing. It was a huge blessing and to be able to do it with you guys was just amazing. But I wanted to call in because I wanted to share something. After listening to the wonderful message from yesterday I went back and read the entry in the God of Your Atory and if you don't have it I encourage you to go get it. So, one thing Brian wrote that was profound to me in my current situation. After all that Joseph had to endure which was not by choice or because of anything he did when he saw his brothers he observed. He could have easily spoken what his flesh may have been feeling or even acted on it but like Brian says in his distress he didn't even reveal himself. He goes on to say to slow down and be observant. My biggest challenge right now DAB community is navigating adolescence with my teenage son. He loves the Lord with all of his heart and has been raised in the word but there's a lot happening that overwhelms an exhaust’s my heart. And anyway, Brian helped me to see that I don't have to reveal myself in my distress I just need to just slow down and sometimes just observe the situation because I don't even know where my son's heart may be at the time. And responding in my distress will only provoke him and escalate both of our emotions. So, for those parents in the same boat as I am trying to raise godly teenagers in the midst of a…of everything that's going on with all these distractions I encourage...

[mythicamagic]

Ulquihime Week: Day 4

@ulquihimeweek

Pairing: Ulquiorra/Orihime (UlquiHime) fanfic. Chapter Two - here

Rated T

Summery: Orihime has an imaginary friend, who happens to be a terrifying creature living in the woods behind her summer home.

For Ulquihime Week 2019 Day 4: Haunting/Touch Starved.

AN: This one is a little...weird. Think of it like a fairy tale/ horror /friendship /eventual romance?

Eldritch

At six years old little girls still believe in many things: Magic, ghosts, monsters, Santa, unicorns, the tooth fairy. Yet their beliefs are usually rooted in what they've already been told is possible. Santa lives at the North Pole and visits on Christmas. Unicorns can be found in forests. Tooth fairies only visit if you lose a tooth. The evil spirits in bathrooms usually resided in the last cubical.

Orihime Inoue had the profound ability to believe in almost anything. To give imperfect things palpable form inside her mind as something new. If Sora held up a sock puppet because her parents couldn't afford to buy a doll, she'd willingly suspend her disbelief and see it as a fierce cupcake dragon. If she ate red-bean paste on bread because they were low on groceries, she'd taste honey on pancakes or strawberries and cream. Dust came from magic spiders who liked to throw salt shakers of grey specs everywhere. The gloomy, faded lights of their dingy neighbourhood weren't half dead lightbulbs, but winking fairies or playful spirits. Graffiti was a technicolour, ancient language she didn't understand. The rivers and skies was a playground for the Gods. Sora could be her Mama and Papa in place of their actual parents.

So it surprised absolutely no one when Orihime claimed one day that Batman was her best friend.

---

He had been born from nothingness.

The only indicators that he was even alive were from the sharp, broken twigs on the forest floor tickling his hard, pale skin, and the solid earth supporting his back. That and consciousness.

He had no visible features, lacking a mouth with which to eat, or eyes with which to see. No hearing with which to listen, fingernails to claw and pry, fur or hair with which to shelter, and no heart.

Essentially, he had been born to experience nothing. A worthless, meaningless birth. He felt the absences of what he lacked with a keen, visceral emptiness.

The creature lay in a pale heap, content to die.

But something disturbed the clear nothingness surrounding him. Raising a hand, long fingers flexed wide, searching for the thin sensation in the breeze. The slightest, barely-there touch had him snatching something out of the air. Pressing it instinctively to his face, his form shuddered and convulsed.

Twin slits cracked on the creature's face. Muscle started to move and fix itself together. Skin crumpled as paper-mache lids pried themselves open. Long black lashes grew forth and the creature blinked the dust from his newly formed grey eyes. Muddy colours and blurry forms assaulted him, until he looked directly into an orb of something harsh and bright. Shielding his eyes, he looked down. Focusing on the dirt felt safer as he took a moment to practice blinking, seeing an afterimage of that burning light.

His sight cleared, shapes coming into focus.

Lifting his head and glancing around at the forest, slit pupils shifted. Sunlight filtered through the leaves. Blue skies could be glimpsed further still above. Hundreds of countless trees surrounded him.

Green. So much green.

His grey eyes let the colour leak into the canvas of his irises, making them give way to lush emerald. Touching his black lashes gingerly, the creature instinctively pried out one that didn't fit quite right with the rest. A small, single sun-kissed orange eyelash lay in his palm.

He found the colour acceptable.

Muffled, quiet vibrations thudded on the ground not too away then, like footsteps. Somehow, he could feel it. Lifting his gaze upon seeing movement in his peripheral vision, the creature stilled.

A little girl stopped in unison with him, tilting her head. The hair spilling out from under her sunhat blazed the same bright, fiery colour.

Deaf to her words, he could only watch as her mouth moved. She then hesitantly shifted forward, silver eyes bright and filled with nebulous flecks of brown. Gesturing to the orange lash in his palm, her lips curved, and the girl beamed.

For some reason, he then heard her words clearly, blessed with sound. "Are you my new friend? You can keep that eyelash in exchange!"

He stared uncomprehendingly, seeing a reflection of his image in her eyes. Proof of his existence. Distant tweeting could be heard in the trees. The scampering of strange, tiny creatures raced up tree trunks.

Something ran down his face from his eyes. Her expression crumpled and became alarmed, taking out a tissue from her pocket. "Oh no, don't cry! I promise I'll be a good friend!"

Racing over, she knelt and pressed the soft white thing against his dry cheeks. No matter how much she fussed and rubbed, the teal lines that made him look like he was constantly in mourning remained.

---

The girl had spent a few hours with him every day from then on, jabbering. Now that he'd received both sight and sound, the creature drank in all the newness surrounding him. He did not understand why his form was grown, with longer limbs than the girl, or why she saw fit to blush and remove her coat, telling him to cover his lower half with it. He did not understand much about himself at all, but everything she talked about, his frayed knowledge pieced together. The more books she read to him, the more his mind caught on until he became impatient with her slowness to describe the words.

'Sora' was her older brother, she said. A brother was a sibling. Her parents were poor. Parents raised their young. Being poor meant having no money with which to buy things.

The girl was called 'Orihime Inoue.'

When he gestured to himself, she blinked at him. "Oh, you're Batman!"

'Batman' did not sound right. But he supposed she was his God, his maker, despite not having palpable proof of such a thing. It felt correct to assume she knew best.

When she returned into the woods that bordered her back garden again, this time Orihime chewed an apple. She took out another from her red frilly dress, handing it to him.

"Oh...can you eat without a mouth?" She frowned.

Mouth?

Eat?

She tilted her head, saddened. "You must be really hungry," her tiny hand patted her stomach.

Hungry.

His stomach felt empty then, twisting into knots. Perhaps that was what she meant.

Yes, hunger.

He supposed he was.

'Batman' did not expect much to come from it, but the next day, Orihime trotted out through the bushes, giving him a gap-toothed smile.

She presented her baby tooth to him with all the flourish of a magician. "For you! This way, you can have a mouth! I could have saved it for the tooth fairy, but I'm giving it to you instead. I wrote her a letter explaining that eating food is one of the best things in the world, and my friend needs to know what it's like more than I need yen," she nodded happily. Her exuberance faltered slightly then. "Um, I think this will work. I hope. When you got that eyelash you got eyes, right?"

The creature reached out and took it between bone-thin forefinger and thumb. Instinctively he pressed the tooth to the appropriate place on his face.

A natural slit curved open, spreading wider as he stared at her, mentally mapping the look of her mouth. Behind the lips that formed came other intricacies of the mouth, muscles and such- that allowed him to open his jaw, accepting the tooth inside. Others formed an upper and lower row of the same bone-white teeth, strengthening until they were adult molars, canines and the like.

When finished, he parted his lips, plucking out the baby tooth and handing it back to her, a new tooth instantly regenerating within his mouth.

Orihime blinked, not thrown by witnessing the somewhat gruesome creation. "Your upper lip is all dark," she patted her top lip.

He mimicked the action but obviously could not see. Without fear, she casually pried her thumb into his lips to flash his new teeth at her.

"Wow! So many!"

Batman did not like this so he shied away from her touch.

"I guess you still can't talk though," small shoulders fell. "You probably need a tongue for that."

Tongue?

She stuck out her own, grinning. "You can't have mine! But I will go fetch you some food. I hear that ice-cream and soup are good if you struggle to eat. Please stay here!" The little ball of sunshine turned, bounding away without another word.

Green eyes stared after her, before mismatched lips opened. Touching inside, he indeed felt an absence inside the wet, hot space. His finger traced over the bumps and edges of his new teeth with fascination.

When she eventually returned, Orihime fed him peanut butter ice-cream and soup. He couldn't taste it, so the texture was all he had to go on as he swallowed. It was fine. He opened his mouth for more, and she giggled, calling him a glutton. He frowned at her tone and took the spoon off her, feeding himself.

She told him about her abusive parents, a drunk of a father and prostitute mother whom her brother, Sora, had saved her from. Ulquiorra understood some of the intricacies of what she said without fathoming her sadness or happiness. He did want to learn specifically, what the term 'glutton,' 'drunk' and 'prostitute' meant, but could not ask. Gesturing to her summer holidays homework in her backpack, he was rewarded with her teaching him how to read at her level. He caught on quickly, adapting, thirsty for knowledge.

Orihime gripped his large hand in both of her small ones and his curled long, pale fingers around a pen. She then grinned and taught him how to write in large sprawling characters.

She left him with a strand of her hair, which looked as though it had been kissed by the sun. He'd dutifully touched it to his head, where long, flowing dark tresses grew and fell to his shoulders, sprawling unevenly and wild.

----

From one of her broken fingernails came his long sharp talons.

With them, the creature felt that he now had the right tools to hunt, which she explained was what he'd need to do in her absence.

It was just as well, because a week later, Orihime had to leave. She'd made him a house of twigs and branches, a poor attempt at shelter, while explaining that she'd been staying with Sora at a cheap 'holiday home' they visited every year and rented for two weeks. They were now leaving for their city home. Batman felt no emotion at her departure but frowned slightly when water leaked from her eyes, running down chubby cheeks.

It smelled sharp and strange.

She'd scrubbed at her eyes and waved, promising to see him next year. Ulquiorra had nodded. With all the caprice and carelessness of a child, she'd then left her creation in the woods alone.

Orihime wanted him to have a tongue and it felt imperative to get one immediately. Legs shook as he stood, and he glanced down at the new blanket he'd tied around his waist at her behest.

He set down the advanced dictionary in his hand and tried talking a few steps, mimicking her walk, but soon panted. Sweat dotted his brow from the effort of walking the expanse of his clearing. He'd need to build strength. Eventually he'd get the hang of it.

---

"That's horrible."

Orihime looked up from her doodles to glance at Sora in the driver's seat, who listened to the radio.

"This attack was random and unprecedented in this town. Kenta Yano remains in hospital and has been unable to communicate to authorities who exactly is responsible for viciously severing his tongue from his mou-" the dial was snapped to the side, turning it off. Sora glanced at Orihime in the rearview mirror and gave a smile.

"Who wants pancakes with broccoli when we get home?"

"Ohhh I do, I do!" Orihime raised her hand, the distraction working its magic as they left the woods and summer home behind them.

----

The creature found that without her, the days blurred into one. He kept himself busy by reading the books she'd left him but they were quickly committed to memory. Rain poured heavy and endless sometimes. It had forced him from the usual clearing where they talked, finding a small cave and clawing at the earth to carve a space deeper for himself. He then lay down, suspending any and all thought; sleeping.

A year later, when she came hurrying through the woods again, clad in a summer dress and skirts flitting about her knees, Orihime found him exactly where she'd left him, but he now stood upright on two legs. More books were stacked atop each other, carefully stored in the shelter of a tree. They appeared to have been stolen from the library, but since the collection wasn't out of control, it could only be assured that he'd been putting the books back after reading them. The trunk had been carved out into shelves, keeping them safe. Orihime felt kind of proud. She'd told him not to steal.

His form had changed. Black fur now coated his arms up to his elbows, feathers sprouting from his shoulder-blades, yet more dark fur on his legs and lower-half, ending at his waist. She supposed he must have gotten cold in the woods. It only occurred to her then that she could have given him a pair of Sora's pants, and felt a degree of guilt. Maybe she'd been a bad friend.

He glanced at her, eyes wilder than she remembered, but he spoke eloquently, in steady, clipped tones.

"You are late, Orihime Inoue."

She burst into a wide smile.

---

"Murciélago," he said one day on her 8th birthday.

"Hm?"

"My name."

Orihime scrunched up her nose with concentration. "Mercy-"

"Murciélago."

"Merci...lego."

Flat green eyes told her he was not amused.

She huffed, looking apologetic. "Can I not call you Batman?"

"If you want to be incorrect, yes."

Seeing her state of furrowed brows and continual struggle to say it, he bit back a sigh, glancing up at the branches. "...Ulquiorra, then."

"Ulqui...orra," she murmured, before brightening. "Ulquiorra! That's a nice name."

He did not need her opinion on the matter but nonetheless felt assured and proud.

---

"I think it would be fun if you could fly," she mused one day, wading through a stream at the bright young age of 9. She claimed to be searching for stardust, because gold didn't satisfy ogres, apparently.

Since he was used to her random outbursts, he took it in stride, watching her from the bank. "Do you want me to fly?" He asked, gaze gliding over the bruises on her arms. He did not ask what they were from.

Orihime laughed softly, "maybe. Sure!" She then tapped her bottom lip. "But my brother says it's good to have a tail if you want to fly."

He blinked as she gasped and clapped her hands, dropping the bucket of precious stones she'd found into the water. "Ohh! Imagine if you had a lion's tail!"

----

She heard about the local zoo's break-in and subsequent attack on its male Barbary lion. She didn't think much of it even as she hugged Ulquiorra's newfound tail, which was thin, black and long. She had a wonderful time playing skip-rope with it.

Her laughter always resounded- not in his ears- but in the hollow of his chest which lay hidden beneath a surface of skin and muscle. The sound echoed and bounced off the walls long after she'd left him alone. In those times, he resented her presence in his life. The echos left a pulsing, aching thing. When his chest was silent, there was no sensation. An absence. A nothing. Nothingness did not hurt, so Ulquiorra came to the conclusion that nothingness was happiness.

----

"Your hair is shorter."

That smile he always noticed wobbled and shrank, before finally disappearing altogether. She curled her arms tighter around her knees, "some...girls cut it at the playground."

"Without permission?"

"Mhm," she scrubbed at her cheek, shoulders shaking a little. "I didn't tell Sora. I just said I felt like a change," her voice became thin and fragile. Ulquiorra watched as she struggled with something, holding back tears. She blinked rapidly and raised her head, exhaling. Not one fell.

His slit pupils dilated slightly. Even at ten years old, she was a strong girl. Different from the brats he'd glimpsed sometimes playing in the woods.

"It's just that...they made me feel like I was nothing," Orihime scuffed her shoes on the forest floor, disturbing leaves. "Just trash to be discarded. Girls always do stuff like this at school, but I didn't think it would happen while I was here. I like coming to the summer house... to be happy for a little while."

Happy? He blinked. Was she not usually? She smiled so often, indicating happiness. "There isn't anything wrong with being nothing," his tail thumped and slid over the forest floor. "But you are not trash."

She turned to look at him, brows furrowing. "I'm not?"

Ulquiorra stared at her, face as expressionless as ever, but a firmness crept into his tone. "No."

----

The next day, Orihime wandered to the playground cautiously, only to blink at the sight of the girls there. They sat, hands curled in their short locks that ended above their shoulders.

Frowning slightly, she made to approach. They hadn't looked like that yesterday. Their hair had been long and lush. The girls immediately noticed her and squeaked, hurrying away with frightened wails. One of them, the girl who Orihime remembered holding her down as the others had snipped at her orange locks- tripped and fell.

Orihime wandered closer, "what happened to you all?"

"Stay back!" The girl cried, dragging herself backwards on the mud to try and scramble away. "Keep away from me! You're a witch! A-a witch who summons demons or something! You sliced off my hair! I know it was you!"

Flabbergasted, Orihime could only watch as she turned and clawed at the ground to pick herself up and bolt away.

Naturally she'd visited Ulquiorra soon after. "Did you cut their hair?"

Vivid green eyes slid away. A rare thing. He always stared, like he were burning the image of her into his retinas. "You'll have to be specific."

Small hands drew into fists, "those girls. Did you...hurt them?"

"They hurt you," he pointed out evenly. The creature shifted and blurred, appearing much closer than she'd anticipated and causing her to startle. Long, sharp talons slid into her hair, gliding nails through the locks briefly, before drawing away.

Orihime swallowed, experiencing a brief flash of wariness for the first time. She then shook it away, putting her small fingers over the sharp tips of his claws. "You can't do that again."

"Why not?"

She frowned, trying to explain. For once, she felt out of her depth, "because it's wrong. Sora says it's bad to get revenge...to be w-wrathful."

He considered this, having no use for her human concerns. "Are you ordering me?"

"U-um..." the girl faltered. "Will it stop you from doing it again?"

"Yes."

"Then don't hurt any humans again," Orihime nodded with satisfaction.

Ulquiorra bit back a sigh, inclining his head. The ensuing pensive, thoughtful silence was soon broken by him slowly verbalising what had bothered him all night. "They were frightened of me. Even before I did anything to them."

"I suppose that's normal," she mused. "You're not like them."

His usual melancholic expression didn't change, but a kind of weight settled into his next words. Like a soft demand to know. Ulquiorra had never demanded anything of her before. "Are you afraid of me?"

And as usual, honesty stared him right back in the face. She visibly gentled and smiled. "No, I'm not."

---

The next year, she did not come.

Orihime did not visit the year after that or the year following that either.

Ulquiorra eventually plucked a bat from a tree and ripped its wings clean off its squirming body. He then pressed them to his shoulder blades and forced the leathery appendages to lengthen and grow, attaching them into his body and weaving the muscles and bone together. They soon towered over him in height, enough to support his weight in the air.

Theoretically.

It took a few attempts, but soon it took jumping and freefalling from a tree to actually work the wings enough to glide. A few more days and he was leaping into the night sky, flying.

He did not find her right away. Actually it took two more years to track the girl down, as he moved only at night and kept to himself. Ulquiorra observed as he went, becoming used to crawling down alley walls to peer into windows and observe humans. He'd scared away a homeless man who'd been squatting in an attic of a warehouse, watching television. Ulquiorra had promptly seated himself before the square of moving images and bright lights, learning.

They were all so similar and yet different, humans. They all wanted things, be it money, relationships, security or fame. They spouted ridiculous things about emotions and 'the heart.' He found that his assessment of them kept changing. Their books had taught him so much- and yet not enough. Orihime had been something unnamed and yet he wanted to name it. Was she special to him only because she'd given him what every creature usually possessed? That of the five senses? That sounded logical.

And yet it felt incorrect. It was not just that.

Ulquiorra eventually tracked the girl down by closing his eyes and feeling for something invisible. That same pull in the air that had happened when they'd first met. Energy he couldn't name or find a word for it with the language she'd taught him.

He soon pushed a window to an apartment open, tail sliding into the dark room and feeling for the floor before the creature followed.

The light in the bedroom switched on, causing him to freeze, eyes widening.

"Ulquiorra?"

Bedcovers rustled and sounded like they were being pushed back. Ulquiorra shifted, turning slowly to look at the woman.

She blinked, sitting on her bed, eyes looking wet but cheeks remaining dry. "I-it's you..."

He stared, transfixed. Orihime had changed.

His mental image of her shifted; bones growing, hips curving, body filling out, hair lengthening. She was a woman now. The child that had taught him what 2+2 meant was dead and gone.

He didn't react to the change, merely updating his information on her appearance and assumed maturity.

She stood, walking toward him with vague confusion. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, sliding down in waves to end at her mid-back. Ulquiorra blinked, his foot drawing back slightly, instinctively. Something pooled in his stomach. Similar to hunger, but illogical, since he'd already eaten.

"I thought...I don't-" her voice wobbled, uncertain. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't return."

She bit her lip, tugging it between her teeth. The sensation in his stomach tightened into liquid heat. Ulquiorra shook it away.

Finally, her grey eyes slid away, like she were ashamed. "Sora died."

He processed this, picturing the brother he'd glimpsed beyond the treeline sometimes, waiting for her. A tall, dark-haired man. "I see. Do you expect me to comfort you?"

She flinched, holding her arms. Slowly, slim fingers glided over the tanned skin, nails biting in. "No," she murmured. "After he died, my aunt began giving me money so that I could keep myself afloat here. On my own," grey eyes slid to the window, guilty. "I wanted to see you but I didn't have enough to come-"

"You're poor. It's to be expected."

The words didn't upset her. Ulquiorra was always painfully blunt. She decided to be equally straightforward, looking at him.

"But...I'd like to give another order. If that's okay?"

Ulquiorra mulled it over, wondering if her teenage years and impending adulthood had rendered her as selfish and shallow as the other humans he'd glimpsed. Perhaps the qualities he'd admired in her had vanished.

Taking his silence as reluctance, Orihime stepped closer and lay gentle, warm hands on his arm. Ulquiorra tensed, breath hitching.

"Is there anything you'd like in exchange?" Her breath fanned over the exposed skin of his chest. The hollowness beneath the surface opened wider.

"I'm not sure as of right now," he quietly admitted. "I'll do as you ask, and then we can discuss what I want afterwards."

She nodded, firey hair bouncing with the motion. The heat from her body felt alluring, in a way no hearth had ever beckoned to him previously. "Alright, I want..." Orihime took a breath. "I wish you would bring Sora back."

Ulquiorra thought of the bat he'd killed. How its eyes had turned glassy and vacant. "I'm not certain that power is within my reach," he admitted, slit pupils dilating slightly at her tense, rigid expression. Like she straddled the line between a collected facade and despair. Strong as ever. "...But I will try," he added.

Her eyes lit up like they used to, lashes falling shut. Orihime's fingers brushed over the black fur of his arm.

"Thank you," she breathed, giggling slightly. Her arms wrapped around his middle then. The warmth and softness of her body pressed against his bare chest and torso, trapping him in a tight grip that he oddly didn't find restricting yet caused his eyes to widen anyway. The thudding coming from her chest resounded in his own. He set his hands on the curve of her hips, counting the thuds of her heartbeat. Without realising, he smelled her hair and brought her closer.

"You're the best imaginary friend I've ever had."

Tilting his head a touch caused black strands to dip and brush over her cheek. Did she mean that she'd initially assessed him as a friend but now felt that their bond had been imaginary? Or...

Orihime released him and turned towards the kitchen, asking whether he wanted something to eat or drink. He barely heard her.

She was incorrect. He'd left proof of his existence via that man, that bat, that lion, those girls in the park. Their tongues, wings, tails and hair had been cut by his talons. The things he'd assumed were his lungs constricted, sensations assaulting- spouting cold fire from the depths of his stomach and into his throat, burning.

His hand rose, digits pressing against the surface of his chest. The feeling of it being nothing but an empty container doubled. He was only vaguely alarmed when his fingers dipped inwards. The brittle surface of skin over his chest crumbled away where his heart should have been. A hollow hole was revealed in its place.

Ulquiorra realised then, he didn't care if he had actually interacted with the world. If he had actually scared that homeless man, harmed those creatures or cut those girls hair. What he desired, coveted, craved, needed lay in Orihime's tired eyes that seemed just a touch out of reality as she glanced at him and he found no sign of his reflection staring back at him.

He wanted to exist in her eyes again.

----

AN: TBC in chapter two