#Three chapters left. Our heroes are in a bind.

[pmwritesandpoems]

A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy: Enchanted to Meet You (1/16)

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Main Title: A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy Pairing: Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character Tags: Romance; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff; Friendship; Mutual Pining Chapters: 16

Summary: Long graduated and in the cusp of young adulthood, Evelyn Rose, the "Hero of Hogwarts" finds an even harder trial to conquer than defeating evil goblin and protecting unknown dangerous ancient magic, when she sees certain Salazar Slytherin's descendant who she fallen for standing at the altar with someone else. Little did she know, a legacy she gained from Hogwarts will manifest itself even in conditions that make it nearly impossible to exist, and help her.

Notes: I posted this on my AO3. But decided to post this here as well.

This work is fully inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album, Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) AND is my first fanfic for...ever?

Chapter: 1/16 Title: Enchanted to Meet You Word Count: 5,952

Reminder:

I won't mention the main character house, you could choose her house yourself

You could change my original character name with yours, I’ll try my best to not mention her skin, hair, and eye colour so you could match it with your own. 

I  am no expert of the Victorian era, the use of the calendar system, etiquette, and many other things from the said era are changed as I see fit to support the story. Several insertions of modern era culture will be present as well to support the story.

You could also read this on AO3.

I tried my best to write this despite the fact that English is not my first language. I hope you’ll still understand and even have fun reading this!

p.s. please don't hesitate to comment if you'd like!

1. Enchanted to Meet You

Present Time, Spring 1895

Evelyn Rose had no intention of coming in the first place. She dreads the day she received the letter and even tried to burn it as soon as she saw his handwriting on the envelope. But alas, here she is. The cold white marble and green carpet greet her footsteps as she enters the foyer of the grand mansion with her head down. 

“You could at least elevate your chin so that everyone may admire your beauty.” 

Evelyn startles as she hears someone talking beside her all of a sudden. She turns and sees a brown-haired gentleman to her left, who is smiling warmly with the same freckles and bright brown eyes she has known for more than four years. Her shock quickly turns into happiness.

“Sebastian!” She exclaims and smiles at the brunette. “Long time no see, old friend.” 

Oh, how she misses him. It has been a long time since they met in person, with all her duties as the liaison officer for the goblin office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and his duties as the matron apprentice at St. Mungo’s, they find it hard to even just send owls to each other. Several letters that they had exchanged in the past three years since their graduation are not enough to compensate for her longing for her brother through friendship. It’s also been years since she visited Feldcroft. So, Evelyn follows her whim and hugs him tight, not minding the social etiquette.

“Oof,” Sebastian huffs as he feels Evelyn’s sudden hug, to which he replies happily. With his arm wrapping her like a cocoon, Sebastian says to her hair, “I miss you too, Eve.” Evelyn felt how much he misses him too through their hug. 

After a while, Sebastian begins to move his arms away. “I should let you go now, since people are staring,” he explains.

“They’re probably searching for the rings on our hands with that spectacle.” Evelyn chuckles and reluctantly lets Sebastian go. “Sorry for that,” She says sheepishly, tucking a rogue strand of her hair in.

“No need to be sorry. And they won’t find it since it’s not us who are getting married today.” Sebastian chuckles and teases, “And also, if I my memory doesn't fail me, I have not and have no plans to bind myself to someone till the last of my breath in the near future.”

Evelyn’s heart stops for a second after she hears Sebastian. To be reminded again of where and for what she came here today is rather painful. She takes a deep breath and answers sadly, “Yes, it’s not us.”

“Hey, don’t be so glum.” She feels Sebastian’s hand on her shoulder. He tries to cheer her up. “At least it’s not a bad venue, huh?”

Evelyn sighs and tries to smile as brightly as she can. She looks up and finally appreciates the foyer in its full glory. In awe, she asks, “I thought... Didn’t Ominis say that his family fortune was depleted rather quickly?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Maybe his engagement brings new fortunes to the empty treasury?”

“Well, it’s certainly beautiful.” Evelyn’s eyes scan the foyer with astonishment. It is grand, very grand that Evelyn feels she has been transported to royalty’s castle. The rich sure live in a very different way. The enormous sparkling chandelier above nearly makes her forget the pain. But it all comes back as her gaze moves down and lands on an enormous door. It is made from wood and carved with beautiful snakes and ivy patterns with a familiar family crest in its center.

Evelyn and Ominis were standing on the shore of the black lake. They stood in silence, the gentle ripples of water brushing over their shoes. 

With his delicate skin caressed by the warm sun, Ominis appeared ethereal. She could practically see how beautiful the constellations of beauty marks on his left cheek were, connected by his faintly visible veins, as she stood to his left.  He was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The classic traits of Gaunts, enchanting yet dangerous, as Sebastian had said. 

Evelyn broke the silence after she saw Ominis holding something between his right thumb and forefinger. “Such a shiny ring you got there, Ominis.” She said softly.

Ominis’s lips curled in disdain. “More like a bloody ring.”

Evelyn didn’t miss the resentment in Ominis’s voice, but she decided to continue, “Is that yours?”

Ominis sighed, his voice becoming strained in sorrow. “It’s my late aunt’s.”

“Oh…”

Silence came between them once again. Evelyn should have guessed it when she saw the size of the ring. It was too small, even for Ominis’s slender fingers. It could probably only fit on his little finger. 

Ominis probably felt how intense her gaze was since he gave her a clearer view of the ring by moving it to his open left hand. Evelyn smiled and began to try to note all the details of the ring. Silently thanking Ominis’s sensitivity. It was clearly made of gold and had no jewel stones. But it could still be considered a beautiful ring, even in its simplicity. It has an engraving of a crest, which is a shield of scales with two snakes facing each other in its center and what Evelyn assumed to be thorny ivy tendrils on both its sides.

With her curiosity overcoming her guilt, Evelyn finally asked, “Is that your family crest?”

Ominis’s thumb touched the snakes on the ring. “Yes, it is.”

“Does every wizarding family have a family crest?” Evelyn asked in astonishment. In the muggle world, only noble houses wear crests. Perhaps the wizarding one was different? Perhaps everyone could have a crest.

“Most likely just the old ones.” Ominis shrugged. “Old rich ones.”

“Oh…” 

Ominis chuckled at Evelyn’s disappointment. To lighten up the mood, he then jokingly said, “Archaic, pretentious, racist, stick-in-the-mud ones.”

Evelyn giggled. “And your family is one of them?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mine is one of the oldest ones.”

Evelyn turned herself completely towards the boy. She traced the engraving of the ring on his left open palm between them. “If you don’t mind me asking, what does it mean?”

“It represents everything I despise in myself.” Ominis said bitterly. He closed his palm, blocking Evelyn’s view of the ring. “Unquenched thirst for power and blood purity maniac.”

“Ominis, I—”

“No, I’m glad that you asked.” He cut Evelyn, opened his palm again, and continued sarcastically, “You see, we Gaunts believe that power is everything. Which of course, is perfectly consistent with the concept of blood purity. We believe that being a pureblood means one has a higher position in life than others and wields more power over them. Not to forget, there’s also a special ability that only we have, courtesy of our cunning ancestor, Salazar Slytherin. The ability to speak parseltongue, which you already know, I unfortunately inherited, is like the oil for our already scorching ego.” 

Using his left thumb, he pointed to the snakes in the centre of the ring. "The snakes and scales on the shield signify it. Our noble way of life and the reminder of our great founding father,” He in disgust.

“With our vital role in wizarding society as the direct descendent of one of the most powerful wizards in the world, we have to keep the belief alive and our blood lineage clean," Ominis added. “We must preserve our ancestors' legacies while maintaining our authority over society.

“Like any other old barbaric family in the world, we do it by indoctrinating our children and practising inbreeding. We pride ourselves on how we teach our younglings about blood purity and the dark arts. We did it as soon as they got a wand from Ollivander to ensure that the propaganda was well embedded in their minds. Our method is unique, and no one else with a conscience probably agrees to it. But, it was extremely effective. We force our children to cast the curse they’ve learned on muggles. Killing two birds with one stone, I suppose. Teaching them about our rank in society and the power that comes with it.” He shrugged nonchalantly before he continued.

“The finest aspect is, the younglings didn’t have any choice in the matter. Since we also teach obedience and suppress their free will by making their own father curse them if they don't do as told. Their fathers also cursed them for showing weakness, like crying because they couldn’t bear to hear the screams of tortured souls for example. Screams that could be heard nearly every day in the Gaunt mansion. Especially from the dungeons. It made us Gaunts especially effective in producing a new batch of dark wizards in every generation—an accomplishment we Gaunts are immensely proud of.” Ominis ended with a sarcastic smile that sent shudders through Evelyn’s body. 

“I would be one of them if Aunt Noctua didn’t come to visit every summer.” He spoke again, his voice heavy with loss and despair.

Evelyn was too stunned to speak. Because of what Sebastian had told her, she already understood how horrible the Gaunt were. But listening to Ominis, the one who got through it himself? A hundred times more heartbreaking than it was before. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining how hard it could be for a child to go through what he did. A child was not supposed to get through that in the first place. She would’ve died if she had been in his place.

“Well, that's what the shield and ivy indicated,” Ominis added nonchalantly, perhaps feeling uncomfortable with the silence that had crept in. “It signifies our obligation to safeguard Slytherin's lineage and legacy.”

“I'm sorry,” Evelyn said, trying to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

Ominis sighed. “Don't be,” He said softly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

"I made you recall something bad about her," Evelyn sniffed. "When today is meant to be the day you honour her memory," her voice cracked as the tears began to pour.

“Hey,” Ominis said, hastily putting the ring in his pocket as he heard Evely’s sob. He then frantically traced his way to Evelyn’s hands and held them tight. “It’s all right,” He said. With a soothing motion, his thumb began to massage her hand. “I was able to appreciate the good memories because of the terrible ones. You reminded me that she was the good in the midst of all the awful things that happened to me as a result of my family. You actually helped me honour her more.”

Evelyn couldn’t help herself. She hugged the boy with all her heart, wishing that her sympathy and condolences were conveyed through the physical touch. She buried her face in his chest, and cried.

Frozen in surprise, it took a while for Ominis to finally begin to hug her back. And when he did, waves of emotions came out of nowhere and flooded his heart. A tear fell, indicating how exhausted he felt from holding it all back. Letting himself finally feel his pain and grief, he hugged Evelyn tighter and cried as well.

“It is stunning. But not my style." Sebastian’s remark about the grandiose room pulls Evelyn back to the present.

She blinks to make the tears in her eyes dissipate. With a tight throat, she smiles at the brunette beside her and responds, “I see.”

“And I see that you’ve found the entrance to the greenhouse,” he continues, giving a knowing look to the glistening tears in her eyes. With an understanding smile, he gives his elbow to her, “May I have the honour to escort the most beautiful lady on this occasion?”

Evelyn begins to smile in earnest and links her hand through his elbow, “You may. But don’t let the bride hear what you just said.” 

With hushed giggles and laughs, she and Sebastian walk hand in hand to the massive door. Evelyn looks in awe as she sees it open on its own with no more than a low creak. It’s been almost five years since she first learned about magic, but it still amazes her every time.

“Was afraid I’d have to open that all on my own. Can’t embarrass myself in front of the lady now, can I?” Sebastian makes a playful remark, brightening up the atmosphere.

Evelyn responds with another joke as they walk through the door frame, “What? You don’t have the strength?” 

The sudden sweet smell of flowers and the warmth of the sun that she feels make her pause, bringing her and Sebastian to a stop. The plants surrounding her and the clear sky that is visible through the glass walls and roof make it feel more like she’s outside and less stuffy than before. She immediately relaxes. With her voice lighter, she continues with a smirk, “I could do that on my own.”

“Oh, I believe that.” Sebastian says. “You did stop the goblin rebellion all by yourself. O'great ancient magic wielder, I never question thy might.” He continues with an exaggerated tone. 

Sebastian’s response brings laughter to Evelyn. “Good. You should.”

Still hand in hand, they continue to walk down the aisle. Anyone who sees them probably believes they are the ones who are going to marry. Sebastian, as the jester he is, realises that and decides to crack another joke at it, which successfully makes Evelyn laugh once more. They step halts when they’re on the third row from the front. 

“Well, this is your seat, O'great ancient magic wielder.” Sebastian exaggerates his tone playfully, unlinks his elbow from Evelyn’s, and bows low.

Evelyn smiles at her friend's antics. “Couldn’t we sit together?”

“I am sorry firecracker, the groom told me in advance that his family had arranged the seat. I got the second row on the left,” Sebastian says, pointing to another bench that is very far away from where they are now.

Disappointment, followed by despair, immediately fills Evelyn’s chest. She will be alone, with Merlin-knows-who beside her, without any support, while watching the love of her life bind himself for eternity with someone else. 

The forlorn she feels can probably be seen clearly on her face, since Sebastian quickly touches her shoulder and says in a soft tone, “Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Don’t be so glum.”  He rubs her shoulder, “We could waste ourselves away in sadness later at night, while also depleting the Gaunt’s liquor stash. I bet they have the best firewhiskey with their newly acquired fortune.” With his eyes looking straight into Evelyn's, he smiles, “Let's just try to be happy for him this afternoon.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “Yes, yes. You’re right.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. As she opens her eyes again, she notices that the greenhouse is still practically empty. An idea comes to her mind. “There’s almost no one here but us and the house elves. Maybe you could just sit beside me. We might just say that this is the arranged seat.”

“Eve…” Sebastian chastises her.

Evelyn grabs Sebastian's right hand and holds it tight with both of her own. Desperately, she begs, “Please, I don’t know if I could make it through alone.”

"Fine," Sebastian says, seeing Evelyn's begging gaze. “I am already knee-deep in trouble, might as well dive in.” He then takes a seat on the bench, leaving a spot at the end for Evelyn.

She smiles gratefully at the brunette and takes the empty seat beside him. They are currently seated on the third-row bench on the right side, with Evelyn seated right next to the aisle. 

After feeling comfortable enough, Evelyn shifts her sight to the front. Her view of the arch is as clear as crystal. She notices how beautiful the arch of white flowers is, especially with the decorations beside and behind it, which make it appear like something out of a fairytale. It’s so beautiful that it becomes nauseating when she remembers that it will be the place, where the love of her life makes a lifetime vow with someone else, in a few minutes from now. And she will be watching it.

“I’m about to throw up.”

“Please don’t,” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I didn’t bring any bags with me.”

“I could just puke at you.” 

“And ruin this crisp suit I ironed for three hours?” Sebastian says in offence.

In disbelief, Evelyn says, “You ironed your suit for three hours?”

“It’s a meticulous process,” Sebastian huffs, justifying his collar and blowing off imaginary dust on his shoulder. “And the result did not disappoint. You can be honest. I look handsome.” He boasts.

Now it’s Evelyn’s turn to roll her eyes. Ignoring the flaunting brunette beside her, Evelyn focuses on trying to contain her nausea. She closes her eyes and counts to eighteen.

One…

“I used to count to eighteen,” Evelyn said to the boy who was sitting on her right. They were both sitting on the edge of the upper astronomy tower, just behind the railing with their feet dangling.

“Why?”

Still closing her eyes, she answered the boy, “Well, my birthday is on the eighteenth of November, my house number is eighteen, and the legal age is eighteen. I guess I just like eighteen.”

Silence came until the boy spoke timidly, “My birthday is on the eighteenth too. The eighteenth of January.”

Opening her eyes in shock, Evelyn turned her head to the right all of a sudden, accidentally whipping the poor boy’s face with her hair, “Hey, it is today!” 

She then grimaced when she saw the boy rubbing his cheeks, “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” Her right hand cupped his left cheek, trying to soothe the pain she caused. With her focus only on the handsome face in front of her, Evelyn didn’t even realise she kept her hands on his cheek longer than she should. A soft smile bloomed in her face as she gazed at his face—a smile that, sadly, he would never see. 

“Happy birthday, Ominis.” She continued to rub his left cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t congratulate you sooner.” 

She felt him smile and heard his shy voice in response, “Thank you. And It’s okay. There aren’t many who know anyway.”

Then, realisation came to Evelyn like a graphorn. She quickly dropped her hand from his cheek and put it above her lap, her head down with shame at her own behaviour—which she actually didn’t regret a bit. “I really am sorry.” She apologised again for being late to congratulate him and also, for her last behaviour. Thank Merlin he couldn’t see her right now. Her cheek was probably as red as a tomato. “You’ve been my friend for more than half a year, and I never asked. Sebastian has most likely prepared your present from a month ago and ready to hand it to you at breakfast later.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have known, since I am currently distancing myself from him right now. As you know, I’m still trying to process all the feelings from…”

Evelyn could feel the sadness herself and didn’t need any more explanation. “Yeah, me too.” She sighed and took a deep breath. “From now on, I will be the first person who congratulates you every year.” She promised. 

“I would like that. If it doesn’t bother you.” Ominis answered timidly. Evelyn couldn’t help but smile as she saw his hopeful face.

“It doesn’t. I’d be happy too,” She said. Silence came again between them until Evelyn groaned, “Ugh, but I still don’t have any presents for you right now!”

“It really is okay, Eve,” Ominis said gently without any hint of disappointment.

“But I wanted to give you one!” She protested. Frustration could be heard as she continued, “And just my luck, I already promised Poppy I would help her after class this afternoon! I can’t go to Hogsmeade without breaking the curfew.” She sighed and began to sway her dangling feet back and forth, thinking hard, until suddenly... she jumped! 

Her mind lit up, she stood straight from her previous place at the edge of the astronomy observation deck. “But I still can go and come back in time if I use the floo powder and run as fast as I can after it!” She exclaimed and then started to rapidly question the startled boy beside her, “Ominis, what do you want? A cake? A book? THE new book of the Nightingale collection? Oh! You probably want something sweet. How about your favourite Honeydukes fudge? I could go to the—”

Evelyn stopped as she felt a hand holding her right arm. The hand then moved down carefully as if trying to find something. It stopped when it found Evelyn’s right hand and clasped it tenderly.  Evelyn was dazed, her mind still comprehending what had just happened. THAT was out of the blue. She had reason to cup his cheek and quickly withdrew her hand. But THIS? 

She heard Ominis chuckle and say, “I am grateful that you’re willing to break the curfew for me. But…” He trailed off as he pulled her back down. She followed the tug, her gaze focused only on their intertwined hands, and sat in her previous place beside him. “I have a better idea,” he continued.

“Wh-what?” Evelyn stuttered as she still felt his hand holding hers even after she sat. His rather rough but warm hands enveloped hers. Her face couldn’t be more red.

“Let me use your technique to calm down.”

After hearing his request, Evelyn's gaze moved to his face, just to see a bright smile adorn it. That caused her mind to become blank. “Huh?” 

Ominis chuckled. “Would you mind if I used your count to eighteen technique whenever I needed to calm myself down? As my birthday gift?”

“W-Why?” Evelyn asked in confusion. She really didn’t have a single idea why he preferred such a gift.

“I just like eighteen.” He shrugged and then rubbed his thumb on her hand, “Like you.”

Evelyn's brain refused to work as she felt his soothing touch, “Uh...huh?” 

“O…kay?” 

Seeing Ominis’s eyebrow raised with concern after he heard her dumb response woke her dead brain. Clearing her throat, and trying as best as she could to not think about their still entwined hands, Evelyn answered with more certainty, “Okay. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Good.” He smiled. “If I may suggest, you probably should start to count now. I could feel and hear your heartbeat accelerating at an alarming pace.” He chuckled. “I can’t have you become brain-dead every time I do this.” Ominis raised their clasped hands.

Evelyn laughed out loud, and he quickly joined. Swaying her dangling feet back and forth, she felt her heart full as the wind breezed through her hair softly, her hand still holding his.

Seventeen…

Eighteen.

A pretty annoying complaint from her left side makes Evelyn open her eyes. It turns out the source is an old lady, whose seat—from what Evelyn can gather from her seemingly never-ending complaints—should have been the one Sebastian is currently occupying. The old lady continues to show frustration as Sebastian tries to explain how he got the different instructions when he entered the greenhouse—which obviously is a lie—and insists on sitting beside Evelyn. 

“I am sorry madam, but I just got the instruction to sit here. I can’t move freely since I’m afraid it would insult the host.” Sebastian says politely.

Out of the blue, the old lady opens her folding fan with such force. Evelyn’s eyes widen in surprise. She never thought a fan could be so threatening. The old lady can probably cut through anything by doing that. Shuddering, Evelyn tries as best as she can to avoid the fan and tries to protect herself with her purse.

 “Well, I was instructed to sit here as well!” The old lady says, fanning herself in annoyance. “Who are you, young man? And who told you to sit here?!” 

Still in a polite tone, Sebastian answers, “I was supposed to sit beside Phineas Nigellus Black.” He then pulls a long face, “But the butler suddenly told me that my seat had been moved here.”

“Phineas?”

He nods, “Yes, madam. The butler said he’s sorry for the inconvenience and asked me to relay that the reason for the absurd last-minute change is because Profes-uh, I mean, Mr. Black himself, asked to sit beside you.”

Smooth Sebastian, smooth.

“Phineas Nigellus Black asked to be seated beside me?” The old lady responds in a surprised tone.

“Yes, madam.”

“Hmph. Finally. He should have done this since the beginning.” The old lady then huffs and closes her fan. “Well, then. Farewell, young man.”

If Evelyn could, she would applaud Sebastian’s successful trick as hard as she could. She puts her purse back on her lap as the old lady begins to walk away. She then sees the old lady take her ‘designated’ place and open her fan with such force once again. Evelyn flinches at the sound. 

Shaking her head in disbelief, Evelyn turns and asks the scoundrel beside her, “Seriously, Professor Black? Our Headmaster Black?”

“Yes, I noticed the Black family crest brooch on her sash.” Sebastian points to the old woman again. “It is pure luck that I was supposed to sit beside Professor Black in the first place and she wanted to sit beside him.”

Evelyn smirks, “Pure luck indeed.”

In offence, Sebastian exclaims, “Hey! My quick thinking saved you from hearing her complaints and nonsense for the whole event.” He narrows his eyes at Evelyn, “You should be grateful.”

Evelyn decides to tease him more, “Yeah, and I saved you from sitting awkwardly beside our beloved headmaster for at least one hour.”

“I guess we’re even then.” Sebastian shrugs and smiles.

The steps and murmurs of people who start to come into the greenhouse and sit in their own places distract Evelyn from continuing her teasing. She realises that the Gaunt really invites many ‘important’ families, as she sees the ladies and gentlemen wearing sashes and their house crest pins proudly with their bejewelled gowns and suits that are probably worth more than what Evelyn makes for a year. She then sees her simple dark gown.

Refusing to feel the creeping insecurity, Evelyn decides not to think about it and continues to tease Sebastian. She whispers as everyone begins to quiet down, “You should research how you can have so much luck in your life. With everything that’s already happened, you could be the embodiment of liquid luck.” She gasps exaggeratingly, “Or... Did you have an endless stash of it?” And continues, “Well, well, well, Mr. Sallow. Why didn’t you tell—”

She stops all of sudden when she hears the soft clinks of the piano. She turns her head to the enormous door behind her, which opens slowly.

Sebastian also turns and then comments proudly, “Here comes the groom.” 

Evelyn’s mind goes blank as she sees him standing under the door frame. He seems ethereal, standing alone with the lights surrounding him like a halo. No words could fathom how stunning he is. His black suit frames his tall, lean body, and accentuates his broad shoulders perfectly. His neatly styled blond hair draws attention to his cheekbones, allowing his constellation of beauty marks to show through. Making him even more beautiful than before. 

And his eyes—those pale blue eyes that Evelyn desperately wants to forget—still make her feel butterflies when she sees them. It is definitely safe to say that Ominis is still as attractive as he was when they first interacted. Or even more.

She gulps and whispers, “Here he comes…”

Autumn 1890

Evelyn gulped and whispered, “Here he comes…” This was certainly not how she imagined her first conversation with the Slytherin boy to be.

“You’re the new fifth year. Did you just come from the Undercroft?! How did you get in there?!”

Evelyn flinched at his high tone. It took a while before Evelyn could answer him. “That…room’s called, ‘the Undercroft?’ Ah…Well…I was exploring and suddenly found myself in a strange passageway—”

“Don’t lie to me. No one ‘stumbles’ upon that room. Sebastian told you, didn’t he?”

Evelyn sighed. So much for lying. 

Ominis’s voice got sharper than it was before, “You breathe a word about this place to anyone, and not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to help you.” 

Evelyn’s eyebrow shot up when she heard the threat. Is the room that secret?

“My father is friends with the Headmaster.” He boasted. “I’m not afraid to exploit that connection if, I, need to.”

Evelyn took a deep breath and answered honestly, with the hope that she didn’t break his and Sebastian’s friendship or her own chance to be his friend over this incident. “Trust me, Ominis. I won’t say a word. And Sebastian is a good friend. You shouldn’t immediately assume the worst of him.”

High in offence, Ominis responded, “I don’t need you to tell me about my oldest friend! Thank you very much.”

Evelyn panicked, “Ominis, I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Ominis cut her off with a sharp tone. “Sebastian gets himself in enough trouble. He doesn’t need your help.” With that, Ominis walked away to the Undercroft entrance and murmured, “Sebastian is going to get an earful about this.”

Evelyn snorted all of sudden, hearing his plan to scold the brunette Slytherin was too much.

Ominis steps halted and turned his body towards her again, “Excuse me?!”

Hearing his insulted tone stopped Evelyn’s giggle for a moment. “It’s just—it’s funny.” She giggled a bit again. “I imagined how you would scold him, probably all afternoon, like a doting mother to her son.” 

Ominis looked dumbstruck at the giggling girl before him.

Evelyn then took a deep breath to calm herself, “I’m sorry, it’s just too funny.”

“Well, I am not amused,” Ominis said while crossing his hands in front of him.

“I never thought you were the doting mother of the relationship. It is funny,” Evelyn smiled softly. Even in anger, Evelyn still found the boy fascinating. “But also endearing.” 

The silence from flabbergasted Slytherin made her continue, “Which is another reason as to why I wanted to introduce myself to you since I first saw you at Charms.”

“You—“

“Yeah, but I never got to since Professor Ronen called me out of the blue when I tried to join your conversation with Sebastian about using accio on human beings.” Evelyn shrugged, “He gave me a lecture about how I am a special case as I started at Hogwarts as a fifth-year student and even promised to help me catch up with the rest of the class by giving me a ton of assignments! Can you believe that?” She ended with disbelief.

Evelyn didn’t give Ominis the opportunity to respond and continued to rant, “I am already having a hard time processing the ‘magic exists and you just don't know it cause you’re apparently a muggle’ shocking revelation! And don’t forget about the an—” Evelyn stopped herself as she realised she was beginning to spill all her secrets to him. To the boy who was threatening her just a minute ago.

“About the what?”

“Uh…I said too much.” Trying to move the conversation to another topic, she continued, “Anyway, I think you are right. We couldn’t use the summoning charm on human beings and since we would be doing it to their clothes instead.”

Ominis lifted his chin up, “Hmph. Of course I’m right.”

“And I also tried to introduce myself to you at the Defence Against the Dark Arts class. But, Professor Hecat also called me before I could catch up with you. You were gone when I finished talking with her. And don’t get me started on Herbology. Professor Garlick talked about how I should enjoy herbology as much as she did since I have a plant name as my last name, just like her.” Evelyn shuddered before continuing.

“Well, it is a fun class, but I am a bit bothered by the carnivorous plants such as the chomping cabbage. I prefer my vegetables to be as still and normal as possible. Well, normal in a muggle way.” She chuckled. “Professor Garlick talked and talked and talked and by the time she finished, I was the only one in class, besides her of course. And…the plants.

At potions, you looked so disappointed with your wiggenweld potion that I tried to cheer you up. But, again, someone beat me. Sebastian started to pull you out before I finally had the courage to do it. And I didn’t see you at flying class. Well, it was disappointing, but I guess that cannot be helped because of your…” Evelyn trailed off as her gaze moved to Omini’s eyes.

“Of my…what?”

She cleared her throat and said, “Your lifetime challenge.”

One of Ominis’s eyebrow perked up. “Well, that's a new perspective on my blindness.” 

Evelyn felt panic creep up. She was afraid that she had insulted him again. Her fear proved to be false when Ominis continued, “Although, I tried flying once. Since it was a mandatory class for first years.” He shrugged. “It was not too hard, I managed to lift off and land successfully on my first try.”

Astonished, Evelyn could only say, “Wow...”

Ominis chuckled and sarcastically said, “Yeah, ‘wow’ indeed.” He continued, “But I found that it was not my what I want to pursue. So, I didn’t attend the class anymore in my second year and beyond.”

Evelyn's brows furrowed, “I didn’t mean that I don’t believe you. It’s just…It’s a shame I couldn’t see you show off your skill on a broom.”

“Maybe you could,” Ominis shrugged. “If we do, become acquaintances. As I see that you desperately wanted us to become one, even though I cannot fathom a single reason why.”

Evelyn felt her blood creeping up to her cheek, “Y-yeah, it would be nice. To be acquainted with you.”

Ominis just smiled at her in response. And by merlin’s sake she felt her stomach flip all the sudden. She was only curious about his wand in the first place. There’s no indication that her relationship with him would be a stomach flipping and heart fluttering event! No, this is probably just a fluke.

But Evelyn’s eyes couldn’t go away from his smiling face. She couldn’t help admiring how his hair was so neat that it made him look like royalty. How she realised that he has a lot of beauty marks, especially on his left cheek. And how his eyes…his pale blue eyes that was like the misty morning on the beach.

“Let's start over,” Ominis said, waking Evelyn from her reverie. He then straightened his posture and formally asked, “Ms. Evelyn Rose, is it?”

Evelyn smiled and in a rush of courage, decided to tease him for his formality. With a pompous tone, she answered, “Yes. I am Evelyn Rose, the new fifth year student who made quite an entrance and became the talk of the school ever since.”

“Tone down your inflated ego a bit, Ms. Rose,” Ominis said with a chuckle. He then bowed his head a little, “Ominis Gaunt.”

“Enchanted to finally meet you, Mr. Gaunt.” Evelyn said with a smile.

“Enchanted to meet you too as well, Ms. Rose.” Ominis responded. Comforting silence accompanied them as they smiled at each other. Until Ominis cheekily continued, “Although, I must remind you again to not. Tell. Anyone. About the secret place you so stumble upon yourself.” 

Evelyn laughed. She hoped that this interaction was the very first page, not where her story with him line ends.

[masked-fox-creations]

When the Strangers Blew In, Ch. 20

I couldn't wait to let you all see this chapter. Things get intense. The beginning scene is the last happy moment until the very end.

Summary: Stanford and Stanley Pines dream of a different life. One where they’re not just tidying their pa’s shop or helping ma take care of the baby. Where they can live freely as the men they know they are, instead of pa hounding them to marry before they become spinsters. They get a taste of that possibility when two strangers blow into town, but with them comes a heap of trouble.

Pairings: Rick/Stan (stanchez); Fiddleford/Stanford (fiddauthor)

Warnings for this chapter: Some violence and tense situations.

ao3 link

Chapter 20— Fires of Death Chewing at Our Shoes

For the next few days Rick staid in bed and healed. They would have to move on the second Rick was well enough to ride. He was unconscious more than not, but when he was awake he seemed to be improving. Stanley hardly left his side.

Fiddleford and Stanford had gone out to get supplies while Stanley staid behind with Rick. The latter was asleep so Stanley was entertaining himself. As much as he wanted to be at his partner’s side, he never had liked being cooped up much.

There was a mirror in the room, cracked where his head was reflected but overall usable. He admired his hair; he and Stanford had decided it was about time for a change, and Fiddleford had cut it for them. While he trimmed down the fronts, he left the back down to their shoulders. Fiddleford did a great job, and Stanley felt almost transformed.

Next he took off his shirt and examined his back. None of his wounds looked serious anymore, mostly all healed up. That nasty bruise on his side was now a fraction of its original size and a much better looking color. It didn’t even really hurt to touch.

Stanley turned back around and stretched, testing how far he could bend comfortably. He wasn’t as stiff as when they first rode out. All the hard riding and the obstacles they’d had to deal with didn't aid the healing process, however. Sleeping on hard grounds or rickety chairs didn’t, either.

Glancing over at the bed where his partner lay, Stanley smiled. It was all worth it. Stanley closed his eyes and let himself get lost in thought. He wondered how ma was, and the girls. At least Susan and Carla had each other, and Susan’s budding romance, and he knew they’d take care of ma. He still felt a pang in his heart; those were three great women he’d never get to see again. They’d understand, though. He hoped.

He couldn’t help fretting about Filbrick. He worried Filbrick would direct his ire towards Shermie now. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on ma. She had always tried to diffuse the tension between them, keep Filbrick from hitting him and Stanford, but she wasn’t always around. Filbrick knew how to take advantage of a few minutes where she wasn’t watching. That kid didn’t deserve to grow up with that hanging over his head.

Maybe ma would get away from him somehow. Go back to New Jersey. Or maybe Susan’s family would take her in, keep Filbrick away from her and Shermie. The sheriff might muscle in, though, stop her from leaving. He and Filbrick were close, after all, and Powers owed his position to him.

A pair of hands wrapped around his midsection, and familiar lips brushed against his neck. Stanley didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Rick. All the same he did, smiling at the reflection that had joined his.

“If you pull your stitches Fiddleford’ll have my ass.”

Rick squeezed his arms, puling Stanley flush against him. “Can’t, i-it’s mine.”

Stanley craned his head back just enough to kiss Rick. It was a drawn out affair, neither in a hurry to break apart. Rick parted his lips to let Stanley in and for a good few minutes he reveled in exploring the familiar territory.

When they finally came up for air Rick commented, “You got beat up.”

He ghosted his fingers over Stanley’s side. Stanley looked down, focusing on Rick’s hand rather than his face. He didn’t trust his usual lying abilities right then.

“Hey, it was a rough ride getting this far. Besides, I’m not the one with a bullet in him.”

Rick shrugged and pressed a kiss to the crook of Stanley’s shoulder.

The door creaked open and the other two walked in, arms interlinked. They didn’t pull away when they saw Rick and Stanley, and neither did they.

“Looks like our patient has risen. How’re ya feeling, Lazarus?”

“Fucking ready to get the hell out of here,” Rick retorted.

“Agreed,” Stanford said, “but you’re still not in the best condition.”

“We’ll see how you are in a few days,” Fiddleford promised. “We need ta take advantage of the time we have now.”

Rick rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. As Fiddleford started his routine of examining Rick, the twins headed out for some fresh air. They walked side by side in amiable silence down the stairs.

As the first floor came into view they stopped dead in their tracks, blood turning cold.

With his back to them, Filbrick was at the front desk talking to the innkeeper. Neither noticed them.

“Yeah we got some guys like that here,” the innkeeper was divulging.

The twins slowly and silently crept back up the stairs. When they were out of the other men’s line of sight they raced to their room, barging in and startling the other two.

“What in Sam Hell?”

“Filbrick’s downstairs!” Stanley exclaimed.

“Of goddamn course he is,” Rick spat, shrugging his shirt back on.

“What’s the plan?” Fiddleford asked, leg bouncing as fast as a horse could gallop.

Stanley peered out the room’s sole window. There was no awning to jump down on or stairs to climb. They’d have to get crafty.

“We obviously can’t stay here,” Stanford answered. “Rick—”

“Don’t worry about me, Stanford. I-I-I, I’ll be fine.”

Stanford nodded and help Stanley push furniture in front of the door as Fiddleford started gathering up their things.

“So what’re we thinking?” Rick questioned.

“Remember when I showed you my knot tying abilities?” Stanley replied, already ripping sheets off one of the beds.

With Stanford and Fiddleford’s aid they began to tie them together. Halfway through their endeavors there was a banging at the door. For a split second everyone paused and stared at each other wide eyed. Then there was another series of bangs and they quickly got back to work.

“Leah, Leanne, I know you’re in there,” Filbrick growled. “Open this door right now.”

“You got the wrong room, buddy,” Stanley called out, trying to disguise his voice.

There was a pause, then the door shook angrily as Filbrick tried to shove his way in.

“Well it was worth a shot.”

Filbrick didn’t give up, and his barrage on their barricade spurred them faster. Soon all the sheets in the room had been tied into a rope which Stanley secured to a bed leg before tossing the other end out the window. It danged just a few inches off the ground.

“One day we’ll be able to leave a town the easy, normal way,” Fiddleford commented, gazing down.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Stanley chirped. “Alright, Sixer, you first. Show them how it’s done.”

With an adventurer’s practiced grace Stanford slid down the rope. He waited at the bottom, motioning Fiddleford to follow.

“I used to climb trees all the time as a boy, so this shouldn’t be too different.”

Fiddleford climbed out the window, making it down without incident. Rick insisted Stanley go next so he did, waiting there for Rick.

“Go around and get the horses, make sure the other’s ain’t out there,” Stanley instructed.

They left and Stanley concentrated on his partner. Rick was coming down gingerly, a grimace plain on his face. Halfway down his hand slipped and he fell, thankfully into Stanley’s waiting arms.

“Maybe you should ride with me,” he suggested.

Ever stubborn, Rick declined and Stanley put him down with a sigh.

The other two came back with their horses and they hurriedly saddled up. Then the quartet rode out as fast as lightening. When they crossed the border out of town they heard another set of hoofs join theirs. Powers.

Before they could do something about him, Bud and Preston suddenly shot out from the side. The former nearly rammed into Chestnut, but Stanley veered at the last second which forced Stanford to do the same. Rick and Fiddleford, riding behind the twins, both came to a complete stop.

“Sixer!”

“I’m fine,” Stanford assured. “But I do believe we’re in a bit of a bind.”

Everyone was at a standstill. Bud and Preston had weaseled in between the twins and their partners, and Powers had pistols drawn.

“Girls,” he called out, “be sensible.”

“Oh, I am beyond being sensible, you ignorant patsy!”

Stanley whipped out the guns on his belt and Stanford followed suit; Stanley had been holding onto Rick’s while he was recovering, and Stanford had theirs. Fiddleford was carrying, but one twitch towards his holster could very easily be his last.

“Fellas, get outta here!” Fiddleford urged.

“Hurry before Filbrick gets here. These idiots won’t harm you.” “But they will you,” Stanford pointed out. To the sheriff he advised, “I suggest you let them go.” He was proud at how level he kept his voice, no trace of his incredible panic audible.

“I am a man of the law, and I aim to uphold justice.”

“The hell does justice even mean to you?” Stanley snapped. “I can’t tell if you even realize how corrupt you—all of you—even are.”

“Perhaps it helps them sleep at night, imagining they’re benevolent rather than just plain crooked,” Stanford mused.

Bud held up his hands and started, “Now why don’t we all just put these silly weapons away and talk? I’m sure once you hear us out you’ll realize—”

Stanley pointed one of the guns at him. His mouth clamped shut.

“You may not care about a gun pointed at your head, sheriff, but I sure as shit know you need to keep these two doofuses alive.”

He trained his second one on Preston while Stanford kept his on Powers.

“Would you really shoot me?” Preston scoffed.

“Do you really have to ask?” the twins returned in unison.

There were at a standstill. Everyone’s eyes were focused on the twins. They in turn kept looking back and forth between their pursuers. At one point Rick caught Stanley’s eye and nodded slightly. Before he could suss out Rick’s plans the other man set them into motion.

He reared Katrina up, startling Powers and his horse. The beast let out a high pitched squeal and knocked its rider back, one pistol flying out of his hand. As he tried to steady his spooked horse Rick and Fidds tried to make a break for it.

Before they could get far Bud managed to cut the pair off on the right. They started to turn but Preston charged, ramming into Rick who fell off his horse.

Without thinking Stanley let off a shot. It cleared Preston, sailing far too close to Fiddleford for comfort.

It was too late for another shot.

“Put your guns down.”

The twins were so conditioned to what would happen if they didn’t obey that tone that they had to force their hands to stay up. Filbrick glowered at them, and they didn’t meet his gaze.

He looked around at the scene. Powers and gotten control of his horse. Rick staid on the ground, hunched over and clutching his chest. Preston and Bud looked far out of their depths, probably surprised at their own quick thinking.

“Off your horse,” Filbrick barked, and Fiddleford readily complied, casting the twins an apologetic look.

Filbrick eyed them expectantly. They staid right where they were.

“Do you two know what you’re costing me?” the man growled. “This ends here.”

The twins didn’t speak, neither trusting their voice. It was all they could do to not shake in their saddles.

Filbrick narrowed his eyes and climbed down. As he approached Fiddleford and Rick, Stanford inhaled sharply while Stanley vibrated, suddenly overcome with rage.

“You touch one hair on their heads and I will show you hell,” he promised.

Filbrick drew his pistol and whipped it across the side of Fiddleford’s face. He staggered to his knees beside his partner.

“Fiddleford!”

“I’m fine, darling, don’t you worry about me,” he assured, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth.

Preston and Bud inched away from Filbrick, shock and worry evident on their faces.

Stanford realized he was pointing his gun at Filbrick. His finger felt heavy on the trigger, and he desperately wanted to close his eyes and let that finger push down. Filbrick could never hurt his brother again then. Yet before he could Powers was at Rick’s side, gun trained on him.

“Do it, y-y-you fucking coward,” Rick snapped, leaning into the barrel. Stanford glanced at his twin. Stanley was visibly shaking, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. He put a hand on Stanley’s elbow, giving his brother a margin of comfort. It was small but it was enough to help Stanley compose himself.

“Leave them alone,” Stanley said, voice not as steady as he’d like.

“Goddamn it you idiots, leave us and get out of here!” Rick hollered.

“Rick, please be quiet,” Stanford replied, glancing from Filbrick then back to his twin. He caught Stanley’s eye and both nodded. They took a deep breath and climbed down.

“Let these two go and you can have us. We won’t fight, or struggle, or run off again. We’ll go back to Gravity Falls with you and marry these two sheepskins.”

Fiddleford’s eyes were disbelieving saucers. Rick looked ready to yell out again, but the pistol at his temple made him bite his tongue.

“Why would I ever agree to that?” Filbrick replied. “I have you both and this bandito trash.”

“Because you could have us compliant,” Stanford returned. “Which is what you really want.”

“Or you do this the hard way, and risk it all. And I swear, if anything happens to them—”

“Do not threaten me, Leah.” Filbrick pressed his gun to the back of Fiddleford’s head. Fiddleford closed his eyes and started mumbling what was most likely a prayer.

“Don’t!” Stanford exclaimed, chest tightening.

“Throw down your guns,” Filbrick ordered.

Seething, they obeyed. Rick shifted slightly, like he planned on doing something incredibly foolish. The twins shook their heads and he reluctantly stilled.

“You finally learned how to use your heads. Preston, Bud, grab those guns.”

“Us?” Preston squeaked. Filbrick shot them a dark look and they scrambled off their horses.

Bud started to say something to the twins as he scooped up their weapons, but the twins glared at the man, and he quickly shut his mouth.

Filbrick went over to his steed and pulled something out of his saddlebag. As he came closer, stopping just a few yards away, the twins recognized them as two of their dressed. The thought that Filbrick had been in their room at all sent a shudder through the brothers. They couldn’t dwell on that, however, as he tossed the dresses as their feet.

“You’re not wearing man’s clothing anymore.”

“What, you just expect us to change out here in front of everyone?”

“Don’t act like you have any modesty after consorting around like you have been.”

Filbrick leveled them with a hard gaze which Stanley matched. Stanford, however, went rigid. Stanley glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“Sixer, behind me.”

Stanford nodded gratefully and grabbed one of the dresses, then retreated behind his twin. Stanley and Filbrick kept their eyes locked, neither breaking contact while Stanford changed. He twisted and contorted, trying to stay as covered as he could by Stanley’s frame. His face was hot when he came back out, and he refused to meet anyone’s gaze.

The twins switched places and Stanford forced himself to stare right back at Filbrick. Stanley didn’t try to be as conservative as he had been, tossing clothes off with abandon and letting everyone catch glimpses of bare skin. When he emerged from behind his twin, though, he similarly didn’t look over at Rick and Fiddleford.

The brothers glared daggers at Filbrick. He glared back. When neither averted their eyes he finally turned around, mouth practically in a snarl.

“We’re heading out. There’s still plenty of time before nightfall.”

Stanley and Stanford started for their horses but Filbrick stopped them.

“Both of you on one.”

They clenched their fists, but wordlessly climbed up on Chestnut. Stanford cringed as Filbrick ordered Bud to take Astra’s reigns. Then he laughed as she snorted indignantly and moved out of his reach. Bud tried again but the horse simply continued to jerk away.

“Calm that beast or I’ll shoot her,” Filbrick threatened, already raising his gun. Stanford instantly sobered.

“Astra,” he called with a whistle. She instantly trotted over. He pressed a calming hand to her face. “It’ll be fine, girl. I know he’s beneath you, but just go with him for a bit.”

She gave a horsely huff but, after Stanford have her an apologetic stroke, she went back over to Bud. This time she allowed him to grab her reigns.

They turned their attention to Powers who had bound Rick and Fiddleford’s hands together. Now he was attaching them to Filbrick’s horse.

“Y-you don’t actually expect us to walk.”

“If you try anything I’ll drag you,” Filbrick promised.

With that he approached their horses and slapped their flanks hard. The already unsettled beasts ran off.

“Let’s go,” Filbrick ordered, ignoring the twins who glared at him with all the malice they could muster.

Filbrick took point, Powers staying in the rear behind Stanley and Stanford. Preston and Bud staid a bit off to the side, both seeming like they had no idea how to react to the situation.

Stanley looked down as he felt a hand squeeze his. He gazed back at his brother who offered him a small smile that was more of a promise, though one it didn’t look like he quite believed himself. Stanley returned it shakily.

Then they cast their eyes ahead. It was slow going, and felt like a death march.

[andypantsx3]

ab intra | 6 | compos mentis

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi / Reader

length: 18,811 words / 6 chapters

summary: When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

tags: romance, thriller, misunderstandings, pro hero AU, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, suicide mentions, brainwashing, consensual mind control, some violence

It felt like your entire body was on fire.

You could hardly spare any capacity for thought, overwhelmed by the screaming burn of flames eating away at every inch of your skin. You felt like you might pass out from the pain, could already detect something like black spots on the edges of your vision, creeping in to crowd out everything else. Your sightline flickered, and then a towering wall of flames was rushing at you, lighting up your irises with burning oranges and reds.

You held desperately on to one thought, though, even as you dropped to the floor, writhing in pain. The villain--it hadn’t been Shinsou. You were overcome with a shame and regret that burned almost hotter than the flames licking at your body. You’d mistrusted him, suspected him, planned his downfall, but none of it had been him.

Shinsou...you needed to tell him you were sorry...This wasn’t real, this was a mind manipulation quirk. You needed to find some way out.

Abruptly, the pain guttered out, and your vision flickered again, revealing the chipped tiled flooring of the back room where you lay curled. There was the sound of heavy boots, and then a tall, lean figure in dark black was kicking open the door. You glanced up into that pair of brown eyes.

He was young, younger than you would have expected, plain-faced with a sweet, open cast to his features that might have set you at ease under other circumstances. But you knew who he was now. You knew what he could do.

He stared down at you, and an annoyed look crossed his features. “Another stubborn one, then?” he muttered, like you had inconvenienced him.

“You know it only hurts worse when I have to do it a second time,” he said, “so bad that you’ll kill yourself just to escape. You could have lived if you’d just been a little different. If you could have just let the pain take you, blacked out like all the rest.”

You slammed your eyes shut and he chuckled. “Have my number, do you, darling? You’re not the first, though. I know how to deal with you.”

You heard the scuff of his boots as he stepped closer, and your mind raced wildly. Your whole body felt shaky, sick, and weak, but you needed to do something. You had to make a move for your knife, but how fast was he? If he saw that coming, could he be quick enough to stop you? You didn’t have much choice, though, it was this or let him pry your eyelids open and kill you.

Before he reached you, however, there was a loud crash in the store beyond, and a sick thump like a body hitting the floor. Another shattering sound followed, chased by a low grunt. Another body hit the floor.

You felt the mind villain pause over you, then he was gathering you up in his arms, settling in behind you, one arm banded across yours to keep them at your sides. You groaned. You would have never been fast enough to grab your knife. Your whole body felt like jello and just the simple movement of tugging you upright made you feel like you had to vomit.

A booted foot kicked open the employee door and you cracked open your eyes to see a familiar head of indigo hair. A mixture of relief and concern went through you when you saw Shinsou’s face, eyes hungrily tracing his pretty features. He had his eyes closed, and that mask covered the lower half of his face again.

“Don’t say anything,” the villain behind you commanded, and a blade flashed up to your throat. You tensed, not having felt him go for your trimming blade. But, you noted as the knife pressed firmly to the delicate skin of your neck, it felt much smaller, much less clumsy than a gardening tool. This was a different knife.

“We finally meet, Shinsou,” the villain behind you sneered. “I’d heard you’d been working my case. I have to say, it’s a brilliant idea, having the Commission wipe all your records and keep you an unknown. Just perfect for a quirk like yours. But as you well know, nothing can be hidden from quirks like ours. You can pry anything out of anyone’s brain with just a question and I...well, I can torture it out of them.”

Your brain churned with this new information. So Shinsou did have a mind control quirk, as suspected. But it wasn’t triggered visually, as this villain’s quirk was. And this villain had a quirk far, far different from what you had suspected all this time. He was able to torture people, to impose pain and visions on them that drove them to the edge of sanity and sometimes beyond. It explained why people had either blacked out or killed themselves. You might have done so if you hadn’t been able to throw it off...

You thought back to the two girls who had taken their own lives at the casino. Their friend had described them as strong, and you wondered they had thrown it off at first too, if it had anything to do with the way the villain had called you stubborn, had told you that this time, what he did to you would hurt so badly that you would kill yourself to escape it.

You didn’t have time to speculate on anything else, however, as he spoke over your shoulder again. “Now open your eyes, please, or I’ll kill the girl.”

Shinsou went still in front of you. Your stomach dropped.

“Don’t do it,” you said, and the knife bit into your throat harder. The villain huffed an annoyed breath into the back of your neck.

“You have three seconds before I cut her throat,” he said impatiently.

Shinsou’s eyes shot open and your heart sank. You just managed to catch a flash of familiar violet before he was curling in on himself, gasping, and collapsing to the floor as you had. You felt the villain’s mouth curl into a smirk, and then he was turning you in his arms to look up at his face too.

You shut your eyes again, and the knife slid gently over your skin.

“Open your eyes, darling, or I’ll do it myself,” he said. You could hear how annoyed he was at your resistance. “I do so hate to get my hands dirty, but I will.”

Your hands trembled. If you could just get to your knife…

He didn’t leave you a choice, one hand prying an eyelid open. As soon as he did, your world ignited in flames again, and you dropped from his arms onto the floor, landing painfully on your shoulder.

It hurt worse this time, everything a thousand times worse, and you didn’t know how it was possible to be in this much pain. The entire outside of your body felt like it was on fire and flame danced in your vision, it was only a matter of time until the flame ate away at your skin and entered your body, burned you from the inside out, and you had to stop it, had to find some way to end it so you didn’t have to suffer--

A gentle brush tugged at the back of your mind.

You writhed. Your skin felt like it was on fire but the flames hadn’t yet eaten through your flesh, so what was moving in the recesses of your brain? Had he started a fire in your skull too?

There was a tug again, deep in your mind, a strange movement like you were on the verge of remembering something. No, this wasn’t fire--

You had just enough capacity left in your brain to realize this was familiar. This was something you had felt before. It was associated with someone...a hot mouth...the color purple...long fingered hands extending a white cup…

Shinsou.

This was Shinsou. He was using his quirk.

You could barely scrape together enough thought to focus on this. Shinsou...what had the villain said about Shinsou? “You can pry anything out of anyone’s brain with just a question,” he’d said. If Shinsou was asking a question, why wasn’t it working then? Why could you feel him but why was nothing else happening? Was he just trying to let you know he was here with you at the end?

A memory flitted through the haze of pain. “Energy can still be emitted and directed. You need only meet the proper conditions for it to be fully utilized,” Shinsou had said of mental quirks, when you had been going through case files all those weeks ago. Mental quirk users were like vampires, you’d thought then. They needed to be invited in.

Shinsou was asking to be invited in.

“Please,” you gasped out through a raw throat, “I trust you.”

There was a small tension at the back of your mind like a dendron snapping into place, before the fire in front of you flickered out and the flames licking at your skin cooled and guttered. You exhaled against the cool tile of the floor, fighting down a feeling of nausea. You could see your fingers shaking where they had gritted into claws against the tile.

You looked up for Shinsou but found him in the same state as before, writhing wildly on the floor. It was clear he was still in the thrall of the villain’s quirk, but he was rasping something like he was trying to ask you a question.

“--think you can move?” he gasped.

Could he hear you?

“No,” you said, pushing the thought as hard as you could against that small part of your mind where you could still feel him. “I need you to help.”

He didn’t respond and you wondered for a long time if he hadn’t heard you, if nothing you said or did could cut through that haze of pain.

Then, “Catch him,” he commanded.

You rose like a puppet on a string. Every neuron in your body screamed against it but still you rose, clambering to your feet and pulling the trimming knife out of your belt. You moved quietly to the employee door, peering out beyond. The mind villain’s back was to you, but you could see his shoulder moving, struggling to slice through knots in Shinsou’s binding cloth where it was looped around the two other villains. Both were unconscious.

Slowly, you eased the door open and crept out. You moved cautiously through the store, hardly making a single sound. And then you were in range.

Your knife plunged down into his arm and he screamed, whirling on you. You weren’t fast enough to close your eyes but nothing happened, and he blinked in confusion. Bewilderment swelled within you as well--could he not influence your mind if Shinsou was already controlling it? You didn't pause to wonder, instead using the moment to your opportunity, kicking his legs out from under him and leaping on top of him, pulling your knife out and plunging it back into the meat of his arm again.

He screamed and you grabbed the end of Shinsou’s binding cloth, looping it over his good hand and pulling firm. At once, it seemed like the fabric activated, hardening into something like a carbon fiber that the villain couldn’t break free from. As he struggled you looped more of the cloth around the arm you’d stabbed and pulled that tight too.

Then you pulled off your jacket and dumped it over his head, tying off the ends of your sleeves to create a makeshift blindfold. Not your best work but it would have to do.

Then you ran to the door of the shop and kicked it open, yelling out into the street. “I’ve got him! We’ve got all three of them!”

At once there was a crush of officers filtering through the door, taking in the mess of glass and bodies. Only then did you feel Shinsou’s quirk release and you slumped to the floor, boneless. Aya stopped when she saw you, rushing over to stoop at your side.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and you nodded.

“I’m not hurt. Just--that villain, he got me with his quirk. I just need a second.”

She nodded but continued to hover over you.

“Can you get quirk restraints on him, please? Everyone is still under the influence of his quirk.”

This got her attention and she moved away from you, striding over to the group of officers surrounding the villain. She pulled restraints from her belt and quickly buckled them over his wrists. In the corner of your eye, you could see several victims still, slumping out of their rigid poses and their tremors tapering off.

A minute later, the door to the back room poked open and you saw a riot of purple hair emerge. You were back on your feet before you knew what you were doing.

The next thing you realized, you had crossed the room, seized a fistful of his jumpsuit, and pulled Shinsou down into a kiss. He stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then he was enthusiastically returning the favor, warm hands settling on your waist. A swirling wave of so many emotions washed through you--embarrassment, guilt, relief--and you pressed yourself against him harder.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you said when you finally managed to pull yourself away from him, staring up into those violet eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

He looked down at you carefully. “You thought I was the villain.”

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, stomach twisting. “You wouldn’t tell me why you were here, and then I thought--when you caught the magnet villain--I thought you caught him because he looked at you. I didn’t realize, you threw your voice, didn’t you? That’s why I thought I heard the captain. Is that what the mask is for?”

Shinsou nodded slowly. “So you thought the quirks lined up.”

“Yes,” you cringed, all your anxiety and confusion feeling like it was bubbling up to the surface. “But you were just--you were being so shady. You wouldn’t tell me anything and you seemed to know too much about his quirk, and then you were flirting with me, and it just didn’t make sense, and--”

A long fingered hand pressed to your mouth, and an indigo eyebrow went up. “You thought I was the villain because I was flirting with you?”

A flush spread across your cheeks. “Well, I mean. I thought--it was part of it.”

He had the gall to look amused. “But not because of my quirk?”

You stared at him. “No? I mean, yes, when I thought it lined up with the villain’s quirk, which, turns out we got that one super wrong. But you didn’t tell me anything! Why the hell wouldn’t you just tell me about your fucking quirk in the first place? Why the hell did you have to hide everything?”

Your voice raised into a shrill point at the end, and you saw several policemen around you wince. You flushed again.

Shinsou smirked down at you. “It’s against Commission policy for me to share details of my quirk. I am an underground hero and my success depends on people not knowing the details of my power.”

Okay, that made some sense, but still. “I’m your partner. Why the hell would you have to hide that from me?”

He shifted and you realized that one of his hands was still gripping your waist, hot through the fabric of your shirt. “We were tracking down someone whose powers were suspected to closely parallel mine. What would I do if he was able to brainwash any of you and ask you the details of my quirk?”

Oh.

Oh, that made sense.

For some reason that only frustrated you more. “Okay, well yes--but he found out anyway! They knew not to answer you!”

“Which you and I will be looking into next, now that they’re caught,” Shinsou said lightly.

The promise of a new case tickled your interest. "You and I," he’d said, though. He really wanted you helping, after what you’d just told him?

“You and I?” you asked, and he smiled. It looked obscenely pretty on him, now that you had occasion to notice, and without the threat of his villainy hanging over your head, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Well, after you’ve had a chance to relax, kitten,” he said, his tone dipping low. “You did promise me that you would when you solved this case. And I promised you that I would hold you to that.”

Sudden heat pooled in your abdomen, chasing out the guilt and leaving no room for anything else.

“Uh,” you said dumbly, staring up at those violet eyes. They were bright again, and this time you realized you were finally about to be let in on the secret that always seemed to hide behind them. “Yeah you’d better do that. Like, right now.”

His smile widened. “Better wrap things up quick here, then.”

He hadn’t used his power on you, but he might as well have. In a fraction of a second, you’d turned on your heel and scrambled over to Aya where she was conversing in quiet tones with a few other detectives.

“Uh, I need you to take over the wrap up,” you said, trying to sound normal. “I think I need some rest and recovery after everything that just happened.”

Her dark eyes flicked knowingly over you. “Sure. Rest and recovery, huh?”

You would have told her to shut up if the other officers hadn’t been watching. “Yes,” you hissed instead, hating the way her smirk deepened her dimples. “Recovery.”

“Well I wish you a very thorough recovery,” she said, visibly fighting down a laugh as she waved you off.

It was only the pull of Shinsou’s presence behind you that kept you from starting something with her.

“I’ll take her home, make sure she’s okay,” Shinsou said, grasping your arm and pulling you away from your coworkers before you could get another word out.

He pulled you through the rubble and glass into the afternoon sun. He seemed to have a particular destination in mind, leading you down a series of winding city blocks. You followed him sedately, content with his hand on your wrist, his warmth at your side. It was frankly concerning how compelling his mere presence was, and without any other concerns looming over you, you felt like you might lose yourself in it.

You thought back to that first day, the way his presence had washed over you, layered with subtle command. You honestly should have known from the second you stepped through the door.

“Does it bother you?” you asked after he led you into what looked like an apartment building, pulling you up the stairs to the third floor. He paused where he had started to unlock a door to look at you in question. “That I thought you were the villain? I know that mind quirk users, you--uh--you don’t have it easy.”

He considered this. “It is considered a very villainous quirk.”

This bothered you. “I want you to try something.”

An eyebrow went up. “We are trying something.”

You flushed. “Not--that. Well, that, but first I want you to use your power on me and ask me something.”

He pushed the door open and pulled you inside. You caught a vague glimpse of a fairly comfortable looking apartment, but you couldn’t pull your attention far enough away from him to inspect it in any depth.

“Why would I do that?” he asked.

“Because I want you to know I’m telling the truth,” you said firmly.

He gestured you over to his couch, something dark and plush and soft, and you sank into it easily.

“I want you to ask me if I trust you,” you said, still watching him carefully.

A small smile tugged at his mouth, and he came to crouch down in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I think I get the idea, kitten.”

“No,” you said, frustrated. You wanted him to hear this. This little shit was going to do what you told him to, at least once. “And that wasn’t a request, either. That was an order, contractor.”

A spark lit up in his gaze and he leaned forward, smile going dark. “You know what you’re asking for, kitten?”

“I do,” you replied, and that was the last thing you managed before you felt him take control. There was that gentle feeling of something sliding into place, and you felt the tension leave your body. Shinsou’s hands tightened around yours.

“Then tell me honestly, kitten,” Shinsou said, watching you very intently. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you said instantly. You’d known this was the case, after everything, but a wave of relief washed through you to hear it said so plainly, without room for any more doubt. Shinsou looked similarly pleased to hear it, and you knew you’d done the right thing to ask him for this.

Then his look shifted into something mischievous and you panicked.

“And tell me something else, kitten. What do you think of me?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. “You’re the prettiest person I have ever seen and you drive me crazy and your hair is so fucking messy and your fingers are so long and I wanted you to fuck me the second you sassed me at my desk and I’m so happy you’re not the villain because it was honestly driving me insane being so attracted to you.”

You burned with embarrassment, and would have blushed if you could have done anything without his leave.

He laughed, looking very interested, and one of those long fingers traced over your open palm. “Cute, kitten. And be honest with me just one more time. Would you be opposed if I fucked you like this? Under my control, made you forget everything else but me?”

“Please,” you heard yourself say, and then his mouth was on yours for the third time today.

“Kiss me,” he ordered as his lips touched yours, and you complied enthusiastically, his quirk not the only thing making you obey. The heat of the kiss scorched all the thoughts straight out of your brain.

“You’ll tell me if I’m doing anything you don’t want,” he said when he let you go to kiss down your neck, and you felt the order sink under your skin like a stone in a pond. You wondered for a brief, mortifying second if there was anything he could do to you that you didn’t want. “Now stay still, kitten, unless you want to stop me.”

His hands made quick work of your shirt and pants before he spread you out gently on his couch, and he quickly covered you with his own body, narrow hips settling in between yours. He kissed you again, taking his time, until you thought you might go crazy if he didn’t do something, if he didn’t deliver on the promise that the heat of his body was making in between your thighs. You could feel him smirk through the kiss as if he knew what you were thinking. You tried moving, so wildly furious with him, but couldn’t, pinned in place by your own desire. "Stay still unless you want to stop me," he’d said. You wanted anything but that.

Right when you thought you might literally die if he didn’t touch you, he shifted, kissing a path lower and lower down your chest until he reached your panties, and he played with the edge of them with one long finger.

“Do you want me to kiss you here too, kitten?” he asked.

“Yes,” you gasped before he could even finish the question, feeling like you could combust from the vicious mixture of embarrassment and arousal bursting within you.

A gleam in his violet eyes was all the warning you had before he peeled your underwear down and sealed his mouth over you. You would have bucked violently if you could have--instead, you were helpless to do anything but let out a shivery moan. Calloused fingers came up to dip inside you as he worked your clit mercilessly, and you nearly sobbed with the feeling.

“Look at me,” he commanded, unlatching his mouth from you. A finger swirled over your clit as the others plunged inside you. “Mmm, gorgeous, kitten. You feel so incredible, you’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you huffed again.

He smiled. “Knew that you would. Now I want to try one more thing before I give you what you want, kitten. Do you want to see what else my quirk can do?”

“Yes, Hitoshi, please,” you practically begged.

You were helpless to do anything, then, but watch as he pulled his fingers from you, and his smile turned predatory. “Cum for me.”

Instantly, everything inside you seized up, and you were climaxing with no build up, thrown over the edge with no warning. Shinsou watched with unabashed interest, those purple eyes pinning you in place with just as much force as his quirk.

“The hardest you ever have,” he added and you sobbed, screaming out something that might have been his name or might have been nothing like a word at all. Heat and pleasure swept through you in a white wave, and you thought you might faint from the overwhelming force of it. Hitoshi made it worse by sealing his mouth back over you and sucking delicately. You orgasmed for what felt like hours but must have been much shorter before you felt him finally release you. You slumped into the softness of his couch, Hitoshi still working you carefully with his mouth and tongue.

“Was that okay, kitten?” he finally asked when you’d gone completely boneless beneath him.

“Oh my god, yes,” you slurred. “I can’t believe you exist. That was incredible.”

Smug satisfaction painted his pretty features, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel annoyed with him.

“I did promise,” he said, crawling back over you to slip back in between your thighs. You could feel him hard against your core beneath his pants, and, incredibly, heat settled behind your abdomen again.

“Now let’s see just how relaxed we can get you, kitten,” he said, pressing his mouth back to yours. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him harder into you.

And that was the last time either of you managed a coherent word until morning.

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

LinkedUniverse Fanfiction Ch. 17: Swords, Shields, Arrows

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name–Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story–I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 19: Please, Don't Scare the Customers

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

In this continuation of my @linkeduniverse fan narrative, Wild and Four go on their own errand to find weapons to replace the resident amnesiac's busted sword and unwieldy Stalfos shield.

Word Count: 1482

Twilight and Wind had already left Madame Viliafore’s shop by the time Four and Wild had located an armorer. The town of Selggog was even busier in the late morning than it had been the previous evening. The sights and smells bombarded the two young heroes. Wild glanced down at his companion. The Hero of the Four Sword had to walk more briskly to keep pace with him, on account of him being a good deal shorter.

Four had planned to help Wild pick out new weapons once they had found an armorer. That was the main reason Warriors sent the two together. The moment they’d entered the store, however, Wild gravitated toward the higher-end swords. He picked a sword, tossed it between his hands, twirled it, shook his head, and chose a different one.

Four looked at the shopkeeper as Wild repeated this routine. The burly man behind the counter eyed the young knight warily. Four guessed his customers didn’t often test his weapons inside the store, if at all. Wild slowed his motions. He grasped the hilt of the sword he had been swinging with both hands, lowering it from above his head. When his hands were at waist-height, he stood still a moment. He took a deep breath.

The shorter of the Links watched in anticipation. The taller released his left hand’s grip and picked up the sword’s scabbard, then fit the blade easily into its place. He looked at Four and nodded. He strode to the shields, grasped an iron heater shield about half his height, fitted it on his left arm, and shook it a few times. He shook his head and tried a few more.

Wild stared at one shield for a moment before tilting his head to one side. He suddenly took off at a jog toward the opposite wall. He jumped, threw the shield to the ground, landed on it, and skidded a meter before he hopped off again. The shopkeeper had had enough. “Hey!” he growled, crossing his arms. “This isn’t a soldier’s barracks, kid. You’re scaring my customers!”

The young hero picked up the shield and checked the face of it for scratches. Content to find none, he faced Four and nodded again. Then he cast a glance around the shop. The Links were the only customers to be seen. The two of them exchanged a quizzical look. Wild turned to the shopkeeper. “Sorry, sir,” he said, “I’ve found what I want.”

The Links strode to the counter. Four passed a shelf with bundles of ten arrows each. He grabbed all fifteen of them. They placed their selection before the shopkeeper. The man scrutinized them. “What are two kids like you going to do with a knight’s weapons and my entire stock of arrows?” he asked.

Four looked up and stared the man in the eyes. He knew he was only fifteen but still didn’t like being called a kid. “There are actually nine of us,” he explained with a very slight edge to his voice. “We’re travelling a long way. Between monsters and bandits, the roads are dangerous.”

A few seconds passed before the shopkeeper cracked a grin and let out a bout of hearty laughter. Before either Link could recover from his confusion, the man planted his palms on the counter and continued. “Hell, whatever you say. So long as you’ve got the rupees, you’ve got the weapons. Let’s see… two hundred for the sword, three hundred for the shield, and three-sixty for the arrows… that comes out to eight hundred sixty.”

The Links winced at the number. Four shot a glare at Wild. Wild shrugged. He didn’t want to show how embarrassed he was that they were dropping five hundred rupees just because he needed new weapons. Thinking back to his conversation with Sky and Hyrule the previous night, he decided to try haggling. The young knight imitated Hyrule and put a forearm on the counter. He looked the man in the eyes. “Four hundred,” he declared boldly. Four saw the mistake immediately and shook his head.

The shopkeeper laughed even harder than before. Wild’s half-baked cocky expression faded. “Oh, boy,” the man said when he calmed down, “I know what you’re trying here, kid. Word of advice, huh? Never insult someone by offering less than half the starting price.”

Wild gulped. “I… um…”

“Save your breath, I can tell you have no clue what you’re doing. Let’s say seven hundred and call it even.”

Eager to avoid any more awkwardness, Wild just nodded. Four opened his wallet and withdrew three silver rupees, four purple, seven red, nine blue, and fifteen green. After placing them on the counter, he looked back in his wallet to find it almost empty. He sighed then stuffed the arrows in his pouch. Wild grabbed his weapons and the young adventurers went to leave the store. Four shot off a quick “thank you” before the door closed behind them.

Wild quickly fastened his new sword and shield to his baldric. “Right,” he started, “now to the café.”

Four sighed again. “You’re lucky that guy’s well-humored. That could have gone really badly.”

“How was I supposed to know what to offer?”

They started walking. “I dunno, but definitely not less than half.”

Wild’s shoulders slumped. "The Captain is gonna be on my hide for weeks.”

Four gently nudged his partner’s hip. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll probably appreciate that you picked such quality weapons. I saw the way you tested each sword. Where’d you learn that?”

“Part of knighthood is being able to choose the equipment that will keep you and your wards safe.” Wild went silent a moment. He remembered how the Master Sword had nearly fallen apart from the abuse of the Calamity. “When I’m out in the wilds, I take what I can get. Give me a choice and I’ll take the best I can find.”

“You didn’t pick the most expensive ones, though,” Four pointed out.

“I didn’t like the most expensive ones. This one,” he tapped the pommel above his right shoulder, “was weighted and sized the best for me. I know my abilities and my limitations. I can kill with virtually anything you give me, Four. Still, my own skill only carries me so far. My gear needs to pick up the slack. As the knight sworn to protect the princess of Hyrule, I’m most valuable when I’m at my most lethal.”

Four had to give it to him, that was solid reasoning. When he himself had forged the Four Sword, he put care into every strike on red-hot metal. In a way, he viewed the sword more as a piece of art than an instrument of violence. Wild had a point, though: Before everything else, a sword is meant to kill. Still, something bothered Four about his partner’s phrasing.

“Wild, your value isn’t just in your ability to slay evil,” Four said, careful to avoid the word kill. Wild looked down to his companion. Four couldn’t identify his expression, so he continued: “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re kind, caring, and humble to a fault. You had the weight of the world thrust on your shoulders, and nearly died protecting the princess. You lost your memory, but you still soldiered on and saved Hyrule. And you were able to wield the Master Sword, which is a testament to the purity of your soul.”

The shortest Link looked skyward and smiled. “Just look at all of us Links. We share a love for life and a sense of justice that drives us to protect the light. That’s what binds us, what summons us whenever Hyrule needs us most. I’d bet all four of my lives that we aren’t the only Links there have been or ever will be.”

A few seconds passed. Four glanced at Wild. The Hylian Champion seemed lost in thought, as if he were walking on autopilot. The young smithy had had to make sense of four fragmented personalities to achieve his full potential. He still couldn’t make sense of Wild sometimes. He figured, as the other Links had, that Wild came out of his adventure the most psychologically damaged of all of them—even more than Time.

Wild was shocked out of his reverie by a little girl shoving past him trying to chase her friends. The sights and sounds of Selggog rushed back to him. He stopped walking and shook his head to clear it. Four waited a few paces ahead. “Sorry, were you saying something?” Wild asked, still a little dazed.

Four walked back, reached up to put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, and smiled. “Not really, no. Let’s head back to the café and meet up with the others. They probably picked out some good food.”

“Yeah, sounds good. I’m down for a second breakfast.”

“Hah, you always are.”

[etchabecks]

No.6 & Akane/Minamoto Families: A JSHK Theory

This theory was developed and written by @416kl / @shirairo and @etchabecks. This post was written shortly after the release of Chapter 73. Future chapters may reveal more information which could change the theory behind this post. 

Theory, Part 1: No. 6 is actually Shuten Doji, one of the three great evil youkai of Japan. 

Theory, Part 2: The Akane family, many generations ago, made a deal with the Minamoto family to use the captured youkai as a bodyguard for their sacrificial maidens. 

Theory, Part 3: At some point in the distant past, the Akane family made a deal with a deity to provide protection to them in exchange for a sacrifice. This protection is provided by the Minamotos. Therefore, the source of the Minamoto exorcist powers is derived from the sacrifice. This power is passed genetically but also exists in the exorcist weapons. 

Theory Part 1 

In Chapter 3, Hanako  explains the following to Nene regarding Kou’s family line: “During the era where the night was darker, at the time, we supernaturals possessed powers much more powerful and were known as ‘youkai.’ Among them were Japan’s three great evil youkai, who were feared and surpassed even god. One of them, Mt. Ooe’s evil Shuten Douji, was defeated by - the honorable exorcist, Minamoto no Yorimitsu. The ancestor of that boy over there.” 

This legend is the same in real-life Japanese mythology. There are other details about Shuten Doji, including the below (source): 

The translation of the name means “little drunkard.” 

There was a young boy who was abnormally strong and intelligent. He became an outcast and called a demon child, causing him to be anti-social and bitter. 

He became an apprentice priest but it didn’t suit him. One night, during a festival, he put on a mask and played pranks on the other priests while drunk. He tried to take off his mask at the end but found that he could not: it was fused to his face. 

Ashamed, he ran to the mountains outside of Kyoto. 

He learned magic, became an oni, and had followers who participated in his clan. 

A group of heroes led by Minamoto no Yorimitsu eventually kill him. 

Many of these mythological details parallel with our No. 6 very closely. 

Although No. 6 is usually very reserved and quiet, he was complicit in administering the potion/elixir to Aoi which makes her obedient. Nene takes the same substance before the attempted sacrifice, a few chapters later. This might be a modern spin on the concept of alcohol. 

Sumire says that No. 6 is “strangely serious” and “very shy” in Chapter 66. He is also shown to be somewhat unfeeling in Chapter 67 as Nene sees Sumire’s memories of how he never provided her with any comfort before her death.

No. 6 wore a mask of animal bones when he arrived on the Near Shore to find a sacrifice during the Study Camp. 

No. 6 has a Kansai accent. This is the region where the city of Kyoto is located. 

No. 6 appears to be capable of magic, at least in terms of bringing dead things back to life, and has followers (the minions). 

Sumire mentions in Chapter 66 that No. 6 is “an immortal demon,” which supports the idea that he is ancient and has been in existence for a long time. 

It seems that No. 6 is controlled by the Minamoto clan. 

Let’s expand on that last point. How do we know that No. 6 is controlled by the Minamotos? According to Teru in Chapter 70, “in order to keep the sacrificial maiden from escaping, the one tasked with keeping watch over her was No. 6.” The modern-day No. 6 wears the same beads around his neck that Teru wears on his wrist, and that are also seen in Chapter 9 (The Young Exorcist, Pt. 1). When Teru tries to exorcise Hanako, he restrains Kou with the same beads which are described by Kou as “for binding supernaturals.” Additionally, Teru seems to be oddly familiar with the area around No. 6’s boundary as he comes to find Aoi and Akane at the end of Chapter 69 and into Chapter 70, which may indicate that he has been there before to check on No. 6. 

For all these reasons, it seems that No. 6 is a captured and restrained version of the youkai Shuten Doji, under the control of the Minamoto family for generations. 

Theory Part 2 

From here, we can say that the Minamoto family made a deal with the Akane family: the Akanes would raise the maiden and the Minamotos would “protect” her via their control of No. 6.  In Chapter 67, right after Nene has been drugged by the villagers on the way to the sacrifice, a villager says, “Very well. Now, relay this message to the head of the Minamotos. If everything progresses without incident, we shall arrive there by evening, as scheduled.” This is further evidence that the two families were working together to facilitate the sacrifices even back during Sumire’s time. 

In Chapter 70, Teru explains that “The area this school was built on used to be a small village, you see. They had human sacrifi...did sacrificial rituals. In exchange for raising the girl who would be the sacrifice, they had a significant position on this land. The Akane family.” If the Akane family received a “significant position” on the land in exchange for raising the sacrifice, what did the Minamotos get out of the deal? Their exorcist powers. 

Theory Part 3

Sumire explains the sacrifice in the beginning of Chapter 68: “Long, long before I was born, this village has had an open pit leading to the far shore. Starving monsters would often surge forth from the pit and greedily devour people. Left with no other choice, the villagers decided to throw young girls into the pit as living bait. By doing this, they were able to live for several years without fearing the monsters.” It seems that the sacrifices did not just feed the monsters, but guaranteed them a certain additional protection. When Nene is rejected by the gate during her attempted sacrifice, the villagers say, “It doesn’t matter if it’s that girl! Catch her and throw her!! That’s right! It’d be better than doing nothing! We might receive a small bit of protection!” 

Throwing a maiden into the pit does not just feed the monsters. It could be interpreted as a way of communicating with the “god” of this series who in turn grants additional exorcist powers to the Minamotos for use in protecting the village. In this way, the Minamotos derive some (if not all) of their powers from the continued sacrifice of Akane girls. With that said, it is clear that exorcist blood -- specifically, the Minamoto family lineage -- is special. There is a particular importance on their family and the power they have. This power is also not dispersed evenly among all family members, as we have seen in the differences between Teru, Kou, and what has been mentioned about Tiara, which further supports the idea that some of the power is passed genetically. Powers also exist in the exorcist tools which are independent of the person who wields the tools. 

Despite these other continuing sources of power, we think that the sacrifice still impacts the amount of strength given to the Minamoto family because it provides a motivation for their actions. Why would the Minamotos lend No. 6 to the Akane’s? Why would they devote so much time, energy, and resources to protecting a city and school from supernaturals for free? We believe that the most compelling explanation is that the Minamotos source their power from the sacrifice which in turn requires them to facilitate the endless cycle of sacrifice. 

Additionally: in Chapter 73, as Teru describes how he accessed the Far Shore through one of the “cracks” that he pries open with his powers, the image on page 14 seems to show him with an open cut on his hand, dripping his own blood into the crack. This might provide additional support for the idea that certain powers seen in JSHK can be given or accessed only with a blood sacrifice. 

[qweeby]

Nine Lives To Short Part 5: The Good

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Paring: Shinsou x Reader!

Genre: Angst

Taglist: @foxypuppy @bakuhoetoedoroki

Plot: You only have 9 days to tell him how you feel but maybe 9 days just isn't enough

After basically spending the entire day at your house interrogating your parents Aizawa finally steps out of your house with his phone to his ear.

" Hey Mic you can finally come pick me now I'm still at the Y/n house hold" after saying that he holds his phone away from his face waiting for Mic to yell like always "YEAHHHHHHH YOU GOT IT SHO! I'LL BE THERE FASTER THAN ALLMIGHT CAN SAY IM AM HERE".

"Just stop yelling, and hurry up" Aizawa hangs up the phone and looks across the street to sees Shinsou standing on the sidewalk looking down.

(" What did you stupid kids do now...")The teacher thinks to himself.

Instead of doing literally anything else to get Hitoshi's attention like calling out his name or you know crossing the street to talk to him.

Aizawa being Aizawa throws his cloth across the street and miraculously wraps around Shinsou pulling him to the ground.

"OW! What the-! I-isnt this Sensei's binding..CLOTH!?"

Aizawa pulls on his scarf slowly pulling Hitoshi to his side of the street pretty much reeling him in like a fish.

" WHAT THE HELL AIZAWA!"

"Oh hey looks like I got your attention"

"THIS HOW YOU GET PEOPLE'S ATTENTION?!"

" I saw you where moping and I didn't wanna ruin your teenager sad mood"

A car starts to drive up the street really really fast TO FAST "AIZAWA IF YOU DON'T REEL ME IN FASTER IM GONNA DIE!".

" Then STOP SQUIRMING!"

Aizawa yanks on his cloth pulling Hitoshi out of the street before the car can hit, but he gets send straight into a tree.

" Oops... I must've miscalculated how hard to pull you"

Hitoshi rubbing his head quietly remarks "Nooooo you think"

Then in quick succession Aizawa ties Shinsou up to the tree he crashed into.

" AIZAWA SERIOUSLY WHAT'S WRONG WIT-"

"Hitoshi I don't wanna hear you whine tell me what's wrong and what happened"

"I-....I left y/n on our date"

Aizawa leans in Shinsou face "A DATE?!"

"Yeah it was a date and we brought Bakugou along"

Aizawa overreacts and yells "BAKUGOU!?! Don't tell you left because he was taking your spotlight! I SWEAR YOU RECKLESS KIDS AND YOUR TEEN DRAMA!".

"No it wasn't nothing like that! I left because I just couldn't handle anymore secrets".

" Secrets?.....ah so she told you huh"

Hitoshi looks up at his teacher his eyes are dead like how the once beautiful night sky turned into a cloudy disaster of pouring rain.

"She said....I'll be the reason for her death... is that true?"

HONK !

HONK !

HONK!

" HEYYYYYYY SHOOOO!!!!" Present Mic pulls up in his car rapidly honking the horn. Aizawa turns around and snaps at the ridiculously LOUD pro hero "HIZASHI SHUT UP!"

He gets out the and tip toes slowly towards Aizawa and whispers " Sorry Eraser I'll be quiet form now on I promise....WHY IS SHINSOU ALL TIED UP!"

" He was just telling me something important before you interrupted".

Shinsou starts to laugh at himself " It's HaHa! So funny! To think I could be a hero HA! with a quirk like this I'm better off being just a twisted monster....just another murder in society".

Mic places his hand on Shinsou's shoulder " Hey come on cheer up don't think like that". Eraser Head steps on Shinsou's face," So you're giving up just like that you look pathetic".

" Sho! Get your foot out of his face!"

"Giving up isn't ever a answer! Why are acting like she's dead now right now you should be with her at her side cause every second with her matters every second is a gift".

He moves his foot from Shinsou's face.

"You understand right"

Shinsou stands up, as Present Mic unties him "Yes I understand but what are we gonna do?"

He picks up the cloth giving it to his superior "Tomorrow after school you and Y/n are to come to the teachers lounge I have a crazy idea.

-The next day-

You wake up in your bed and your body feels, as sore than ever before "Ughhh Come on it's nothing but a little sting just get up"

"Maybe your body won't let you"

" Oh yes it will you little fur ball watch this!"

You jump out of your bed stretching "Ha! See my body only listen to me so suck it Yokai!.

You look down at your legs to see that same mist from the hospital room sworn around them then suddenly they begin to shake.

"What did you do"

" Oh nothing just making your legs give up on you it's only a matter of time before they give up on you completely"

"YOU WHAT!"

You throw a pillow at Yokai put it phases right through him "Have fun walking to school you fool".

.

.

.

You try your best to go through out you day ignoring the pain in your legs. For the whole day you do Hitoshi until after school.

Shinsou walks up to your desk knocking on it .

" Hey Cat"

"Hm? HITOSHI?! Where have you bee all day?"

"Teachers lounge with Present Mic we were watching Eri you wanna come with?"

You stand up pushing your chair in "Yeah I can finally meet Eri I know Izuku been talking about her a lot".

You and Hitoshi walk to the teachers lounge the both of you trying not make things awkward after what happened last night.

" So how was the date with Katsuki?"

"It was actually pretty fun but...I really wish you were there....HITOSHI IM REALLY SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING I SAID!"

Hitoshi puts his hands in his pockets "You're not the only one who should be apologizing... I didn't mean to leave like that or snap at you like that! I promise it will never happen again!".

The both of you finally reach the teachers lounge but before you go in Shinsou puts his arms around you "So....are we cool?"

You kiss Hitoshi on his big forehead "Yeah we're cool".

The door flies open " See Mic I told Hitoshi was at the door....oh" Eri looks up at the both of you " Hitoshi I thought you said you were getting a friend not your girlfriend".

Shinsou blushes really hard " ERI WHO EVEN TAUGHT YOU THAT! D-DONT GO AROUND SAY THINGS LIKE THAT"

" But Lemillion said that about Deku when he brought his girlfriend the balloon girl "

"DEKU DOESN'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND DON'T CALL URARAKA A BALLOON!"

You cover your face hiding your embarrassment wanting to die "Ughhhhh......".

Aizawa walks into the room shoving you and and Shinsou into the room .

"Out of the way we have work to do".

" We have work to do?"

Aizawa crouches down rubbing Eri's head "Yes we do but it's mostly for you Y/n We wanna use Eri's quirk on you"

.

.

.

" What..."

"Eri's quirk let's her rewind a person's body back to a previous state so what if we rewind your body to the point where your quirk didn't manifest"

"OK THAT'S GREAT NEWS LETS GO IT RIGHT NOW LIKE RIGHT RIGHT NOW" You say jumping up and down.

Aizawa hits on the head "Listen kid...alot of things can happen moving forward"

"One Eri rewimds your body and everything is fine for a while"

"Two Eri rewinds your body and you turn into nothing but dust"

"Or three you declined the offer completely".

Why were there even three options when it was already clear what your decision would be. "I'll take the risk".

" DON'T YOU DARE!"

Both you and the cat exchange glances "YOU FOOL I'LL JUST COME BACK YOU KNOW THIS RIGHT! AND WHEN I DO I'LL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!"

You walk towards Eri reaching your hand out to touch her horn

"You already do Yokai"

.

.

.

.

With your days rewind and your life no longer in jeopardy maybe things can finally go your way. But as the the good ends eventually comes the bad.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"NO! NO! NO! I WON'T GO AWAY THAT EASILY!"

As Eri's powers shocks your body causing you intense pain Yokai's body slowly faded "DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM!?! I AM WHAT WILL SEND YOU TO YOUR GRAVE! THE GRIM REAPER! NO ONE CAN ESCAPE THEIR DEATHS!"

You see Yokai's hands consume your body " H-HITOSHI!" you scream until there's nothing but black.

Aizawa uses his quirk on Eri stopping her from killing you, "Y/N!?! Hey are you ok!"

Hitoshi holds you up, as started to lean on him.

......

You stand up straight looking at everyone in the room smiling, as you say.

"Never better Hitoshi...."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡💜

Next Chapter...The Bad....

[wkemeup]

Guiding Light (4)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.8k warnings: torture, angst™ 🖤series masterlist

T W O  W E E K S  E A R L I E R

You couldn’t hear Bucky when he called your name or when he had begged you leave without him. His voice was muffled and muted by the barrier between you and you would have given just about anything to hear his voice once last time, to hold him, to touch him and brush his hair from his eyes, to remind him that he was so incredibly adored and that none of this was his fault, but you wouldn’t get the chance.

Harsh hands gripped at your arms until bruises formed under the thin layer of your suit as Hydra agents dragged you down the hallway. You watched helplessly as Bucky struggled to break through the impenetrable wall, fist colliding to the glass only for it to remain unmarked.

You tried to fight the men, digging your heels to the concrete and flailing in their arms, but there were too many of them. From the distance, you could still make out the desolation in the blue of Bucky’s eyes, the pain and guilt you had helped him work so hard to let out go of rushing back to the surface; the unbridled shock on his face when you said the one thing you had been trying to tell him for years, when you told him you loved him.

On some level you were sure that he knew, but watching the genuine surprise on his face mixed with the devastation of what was about to happen was something else entirely; knowing he had you and lost you all at once.

The agents dragged you around the corner, Bucky disappearing from view, and with one sharp hit to the side of your head, you were pulled to the darkness.

When you woke again, it was to ice cold water and a hard burning in your lungs. Shocked back to consciousness, you struggled to find your breath amongst the pour of the water on your face. When it finally let up, your chest was heaving in throbbing pants, hands curling into the arm rests of the chair you had been bound to, as beads of water ran down your back, your face, and dripped from the ends of your hair.

In front of you stood three men, all dressed in military style uniforms. The two in the back held automatic assault weapons aimed in your direction, safety released, despite the fact that you were currently cuffed in place.

The man at the center stood with his arms crossed; dark hair, scruff along his jaw line, and a jagged scar running from his left temple to the bridge of his nose, crossing over his eye and leaving a clouded, damaged orb in its place he didn’t bother to cover. He wasn’t one you recognized. None of them were.

He nodded to the man standing on your right who held the now empty bucket in his hands. Then, Scarface dismissed the three men, leaving you alone with him. 

He began to circle you, studying you from every angle and you did your best to keep your breathing steady despite the rage boiling in your chest. When he came back around to your front, a slow smirk drew up the right corner of his lips.

“Agent Y/l/n, it is such a pleasure to have you in our company,” he drawled, voice thick, deep, and with an American accent. “My name is Alex Cainning. But you can call me Cain.”

You narrowed your eyes on him, unwilling to provide even an ounce of reaction. Cain shrugged, unbothered.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we went through the trouble of setting up false intel just to lure you to our base and provide us with the prime opportunity to take hostage one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” He chuckled, unable to even get the term passed his lips before he started laughing. “That title always irked me. Sure, I get the science experiments and egotistical billionaire with the super suit and the literal God of Thunder, but you? What do you possibly have to offer to a team like that? You're human. Weak. Just like the arrow guy and the soviet whore.”

You gritted your teeth. “So why take me? Why bother if I’m so... uninteresting?”

“Even despite your failings, your arrogance is astounding.” Cain smiled, running his tongue over the white of his teeth. “You make the mistake in thinking this is even about you.”

A flash of surprised grazed your features and before you could restrain it. Cain had clearly noticed. A satisfaction curved up his lips as he turned towards the door. He paused, knocked several times and the locks began to unclick. You counted eight.

“We’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Agent Y/l/n,” Cain said as he stepped through the door, the dim lighting behind him making it impossible to make out the layout beyond the four walls to the cell they had dropped you in. “Make yourself comfortable. You won’t be leaving.”

The door slammed shut and the metal clasps binding your wrists to the chair snapped open. Sprinting up, you raced to the door, shoving your shoulder against it though you knew it would do no use. You pounded your fists to the metal frame, shouting for them to let you go, to face you like the grimy cowards they were, and you only stepped away when your arms had grown sore and an ache throbbed in your hands.

You panted, turning back to look around the room. Concrete walls by concrete floor with a single twin mattress sitting upon the ground in the left corner. It was stained and warped with use, springs puncturing the surface and a dark red discoloring on the ground beside it.

Head pulsing, you brought your hand to the source to find a sticky substance on your head. A heavy sigh as you lowered your hand to examine it further to find blood coating your fingertips. You must have sustained the injury when they knocked you out.

Feeling dizzy, you slowly made your way to the mattress, grabbing a hold of the corner and dragged it to the right side of the room, away from the blood stain on the floor. You flipped the mattress over, somewhat relieved to find the underside minimally less repulsive, and collapsed down onto it. Staring up at the ceiling, you tried not to think about what Cain had meant, about why they chose to take you of everyone who had stormed that base.

Bucky was just as trapped on the other side of that wall, if not more so because he didn’t have access to the exit the way you did. But they left him alone, didn’t even attempt to injure or subdue him. They just left him to watch. It didn’t make any sense.

Why bother taking you if it wasn’t you they wanted?

***

Five days later and you learned their routine.

With no windows in your room, it was impossible to keep track of time, but these men, these soldiers, had schedules, and they came barreling into your cell with the smell of coffee on their breath and crumbs in their beards enough to tell you that morning broke. They’d strap you into the chair, ask you some questions about the security at the compound to which you’d give them jack-shit, and they’d return the favor with a few cuts to your arms, a punch to the gut, or a damp washcloth pressed over your nose and mouth until you couldn’t breathe.

You’d been trained by the best, which meant you could withstand torture on par with Navy Seals. It frustrated Cain to no end, though he still had yet to explicitly tell you what they had captured you for. You assumed part of it was to obtain information on the Avenger’s compound, on the Avenger’s habits and schedules, perhaps on SHIELD’s strike strategies or their weapon’s base, but that was information he’d be able to get from any agent, even a rookie. It didn’t explain why they needed you.

After a few bruises to your ribs, reopening the split in your lip, and coming up empty handed again, they’d leave you alone for a few hours.

Then, they’d return a second time and once you overheard one of them grumbling about the choices of food in the dining hall, which lead you to believe their second visit took place around dinner time. It was around then that they’d bring you a tray of three slices of bread, a wrinkling apple with brown spots on the sides, and a cup of water that had flecks in it and a bitter aftertaste. You didn’t touch it for the first three days, but caved on the fourth from the awful pangs in your stomach.

So, for five days, you knew what to expect. Torture and interrogation on the first visit in the morning. Food on the second visit. Aimless silence and solitude in between.

That was, until you were no longer alone.

Halfway through your fifth day in captivity, mid-way between the waterboarding you endured earlier that morning over your refusal to provide information on the layout of the compound and your only meal of the day, you heard a muffled groan through the wall beside you.

Propping yourself up on your elbows on the lumpy mattress, you narrowed your eyes on the wall next to you. A sharp crack in the foundation of the concrete ran along the surface, ending in an impossibly small opening by the corner of the walls. A shuffling came through, this time followed by the sharp close of a door.

You leaned closer to the hole in the wall in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what lied beyond it, but then the twist in your stomach sent a stabbing pain through you ribs and you let out a yelp, collapsing back down onto the mattress that provided no relief. You grumbled under your breath, frustrated with the state of your weakened body.

“Hello?” a voice called through the wall, male, American. Midwestern, maybe. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you huffed, pressing your hand to your side to help alleviate the pain from where Cain had given a rather rough beating to your ribs the day before.

“Where-- Where are we?” the voice asked, trembling almost, and it surprised you.

“Not sure,” you replied truthfully, staring up at the ceiling. “Hydra base for sure. Location... Don’t have a clue. Nationalities of the soldiers seem to be all over the place so getting a sense of the country has been difficult. My best guess is western Asia, maybe Middle East. Couldn’t have been more than a few hours plane from where they took me in Russia.”

There was a long pause before the voice spoke.

“Sounds like you, uh, you know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

You shrugged, hulling yourself up to sit on the mattress with your back pressed to the wall. The crack wasn’t wide enough to get a good look at him but you could make out the blur of him sitting just a foot away from the shared wall, knees tucked to his chest.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of my job to know that kind of stuff,” you said, surprised when a breath of a laugh passed through you. When he didn’t reply, you took a deep breath. “So, what got you landed in this dump, anyway?”

“Oh-- I um, I was stationed in Iran with my unit and... it was so stupid, I wandered off base to help this guy whose car broke down,” he replied and you could hear him tap his head against the wall in frustration.

“Army?”

“First tour, actually,” he confirmed with a heavy sigh. “Didn’t even make it three weeks.”

He sounded young. Too young to be signing his life over to a military that would offer him no favors and leave him defenseless and traumatized when and if he eventually returned back to the states. He couldn’t be more than twenty years old.

“Listen kid,” you started, pressing your hand to the wall as if he could see you. “I’m with SHIELD and I guarantee there’s some pretty pissed off people looking for me. We’ll get you out of here, okay?”

“SHIELD? Shit, you must be pretty important,” he chuckled softly and it was nice to hear the fear slipping out of his voice.

“I don’t know about that,” you replied, though the smile fell from your face rather quickly. An image of Bucky on the other side of the glass barrier flashed behind your eyes, the panic, the desperation, the last words you saw on his lips as you were dragged away from him, kicking and screaming. “My team, they’re like my family. They’ll find me.”

“Sounds nice. My unit just rags on each other all day and I’m pretty sure my Sergeant straight up hates me.”

You laughed, listening to his stories from the base. Once he started talking, it was difficult to get him to stop, not that you much wanted to. It was a nice alternative to being alone with your thoughts, getting caught up in wondering what Bucky was doing or if he was losing himself again to the guilt and shame he worked so hard to overcome.

Over the next few hours, you learned the kid’s name was Danny and he grew up in some town in Indiana with a total of two gas stations and a single grocery store. He told you he thought joining the army was his shot to make something of himself when he dropped out of community college a year in and couldn’t find a decent paying job to make it work back home.

Danny was a sweet kid. Young. Naïve. The kind of person that would disobey orders to help a stranger start their car a mile off base, only to find out it was a trap set by Hydra agents.

The hours seemed to go by faster now that you had Danny. He only put the pieces together about who you really were when you gave him your first name.

“Y/n? Wait--” Danny paused, a soft shuffling as he repositioned himself on the other side of the wall. “As in Agent Y/n Y/L/n of the Avengers?”

You chuckled at that, a slight nod before you realized he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Holy shit! How did you not lead with that!?” Danny shouted excitedly, though a muffled breath alerted you that he had clapped his hand to his mouth to keep his voice down. “You were all over the news before I got taken...”

“Oh--”

“So, the team you were talking about? Your family... is the Avengers?” Danny asked, seeking confirmation he didn’t quite need as he started to answer it all on his own. “That’s nuts! What’s it like working for Captain America? Or, or Iron Man? Is Tony Stark as cool as he seems?”

“Well first off, I don’t work for Rogers. I work with him,” you laughed, enjoying his amusement, “and Stark is a massive dork. Don’t believe the garbage in the papers about him. He’s a good guy and definitely way cooler than he seems.”

Danny asked you about a hundred different questions about what it was like working with the Avengers, about your friends, and how you came to be part of the team.

You wondered if he had chosen a different path, if maybe there were more opportunities presented to him, he would have done well as an Agent, or a technical analyst, or even doing crew work because he had the kind of excitement so many of the rookies were lacking these days.

Hours later, your stomach was starting growl, more so than it usually did, and it was getting close to your second visit of the day. You were laying down on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, hand propped under your head as you did your best to get comfortable.

You told Danny of the schedule you had come to learn and warned him that they might try and hurt him for information he won’t know the answers to. That scared him a bit, but you promised you’d be here for him, that if he could just hold on a little while longer, you were certain Buc-- your team would get the two of you out of here soon.

***

You started keeping track of the days in scratched lines under the top right corner of the mattress. Nine marks in the concrete. Nine days you’d been held in captivity.

You kept your eyes closed long after you woke from your restless sleep, muscles aching from the lumps in the hard mattress and goosebumps littering your skin from the chill in the room. The dream you had had been a decent one, one absent of nightmares and horrors from your past or the fear of your impending future. No, this dream was about the first time you got Bucky to leave the compound and venture out into Brooklyn.

You decided to borrow one of Tony’s cars after some serious convincing and a few concessions to opt for his team over Steve’s in the next full team mission and to bring him back a cold pizza from a specific shop in Queens. Tony was always a bit of a negotiator and he took a quick liking to you after you joined the team a few years back. He had a hard time saying no to you.

Bucky was apprehensive the entire walk down the garage. Hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, navy blue bomber hiding the reflection of his left arm, and a baseball cap to shield his eyes. He was still in covert mode and you were determined to shake him of that. He didn’t need to be so guarded. He was an Avenger now, not a criminal, and he had every right to enjoy a day in the city as the next guy.

You told him so and he just waved you off with a shrug. He didn’t believe it just yet. 

He stared at the red paint on Stark’s convertible as you jumped into the driver’s seat for a solid three minutes before he eventually opened the door and slumped into the seat next to you. 

“There’s no turning back now, Barnes,” you grinned over at him as you roared the engine to life. It was an older model, vintage, and the engine had that kind of purr that reminded Bucky of cars from his youth. He let a smile slip before he could suppress it.

He had only been living at the compound for a few months and while he had started coming on those early runs with you and would only occasionally mumble a few things under his breath, he had still agreed to go with you into the city. It surprised you when he said yes right away. You thought you would have needed to threaten his coffee supply before he caved, though you didn’t complain.

You parked Tony’s car outside of the city limits at a train station that was largely unoccupied and purchased tickets to the heart of Brooklyn from the woman at the counter. Bucky stood a careful distance behind you, silently observing the few commuters standing by the platform from under the bridge of his cap.

“Hey,” you said softly, noticing the way he was suspiciously eyeing a man reading a newspaper on a bench by the tracks, taking a step further away, “you’re safe, Bucky. No one here is a threat.”

Without thinking, you ran your hand up his arm in hopes to ease his tension, but in that shiver that traces up his spine, he flinched away instantly, almost repulsively and he gritted his teeth, embarrassed at his own reaction. He hadn’t meant to, but he wasn’t used to touch like that. Soft. Gentle. Without cruel intent. 

You quickly muttered an apology and stepped away from him, giving him a few feet of space. You didn’t notice the way he glanced back over at you, sad blue eyes wishing for you to try again, knowing if he had just been prepared for it, if he’d known it was coming from you, he'd lean into it. It would be welcomed, maybe. He hoped. 

When the train rolled up at the platform, you ushered for Bucky to follow you inside. At the rear of the car, you spotted two open seats far away from the crowd, though you did warn him it would fill up before you made it to Brooklyn. Bucky nodded at that, though he still insisted on sitting in the aisle seat. Quickest escape. Easiest to protect you.

He did better on the train than you expected, even with the crowds and with the unpleasant memories of the fall, though you did have to stare daggers into a teenager who had set his sights on Bucky. Some cocky little prick who recognized the former winter soldier and was snickering something to his snide little friends. It was the last thing Bucky needed. So, you scooted just an inch closer to him and didn’t take your eyes off the kid the entire way to Brooklyn. If Bucky noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Once you got to your stop, Bucky had exhaled a heavy sigh of relief the moment he stepped out of the train. The sun was warm on your skin, even in shorts and a t-shirt, so you couldn’t imagine how Bucky was feeling under all those layers. 

You tried to convince him to take the jacket off, but he just pressed out a thin smile and said, “I’m good, doll.”

It was the first time he called you one of those names, those terms of endearment he never seemed to give to anyone else, and it made your stomach twist. He said it so casually, just rolling off his tongue, and you wondered if he realized the effect it had.

You had your sights on bringing him to a bookstore that claimed to be around since the ‘20s, but the architecture seemed too recent and if you were honest, you wanted to prove to those gentrifying hipsters that you saw right through their round framed glasses, ankle pants, and expertly groomed facial hair. Regardless, you needed to get Bucky caught up on the literary masterpieces he missed in the last few decades.

Bucky kept a careful stride by your side, though you noticed he swerved out of the way of on-comers despite being much larger of anyone he encountered. It was endearing almost, and though you knew he was nervous, he still came with you anyway. It made you smile.

“Oh! Bucky, there it is!” you yelped, pointing to the bookshop across the street. You grabbed his left hand from his jacket pocket without thinking much of it and dragged him across the street. 

He jogged behind you, trying to keep up as you pushed through a sea of pedestrians, and you didn’t let go of his hand even as you stepped into the cool air conditioning of the bookshop.

“This wasn’t here in the forties, was it?” you prodded from Bucky, eyes catching on the hipster you often found yourself feuding with. The owner, characteristically wearing suspenders he clearly didn’t need, rolled his eyes.

Bucky cleared his throat and you narrowed your eyes on him, confused, until he glanced down between you to your hands, still wrapped together with yours clutching solid metal. Your eyes widened and you stepped away from him, dropping his hand in an instant. 

“Shit, I’m-- I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you apologized nervously, scratching at the back of your neck. “I don’t always think when I get excited and-- I’m sorry I should have paid more attention. I know you don’t like it when people touch--”

“It’s okay,” Bucky replied sincerely, cutting you off with the sweet, kind smile you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. 

He glanced around the bookshop, stepping further inside, and to your surprise, he removed his hat. The hairs at the nape of his neck were damp with sweat and while you knew there wasn’t a chance he’d go as far to remove his jacket, it was a step. He raked his fingers through his hair to put shape back to it.

“I don’t know for sure, but I definitely don’t recognize this place,” Bucky offered and before he could tell you that he almost swore there used to be a tailor in this spot, you had already started gloating to the thirty-something-year-old owner. 

By the time you turned around again, Bucky was chuckling under his breath and it made something swell behind your chest. 

Now, lying in the cold, dimly lit cell at a Hydra facility, you kept that image of Bucky as long as you could. Not daring to open your eyes in fear of losing the picture of the crinkles up by his eyes, the incredibly kind blue of his irises, the freckles under the thin layer of scruff on his cheeks and the wonder with which he carried as you explored the rest of Brooklyn together.

You clenched your jaw, trying to hold back the well of tears when suddenly, the sharp clicks of your door began to unlock.

“Y/n...?” Danny’s voice called for you nervously, recognizing the sound himself.

“Don’t let them know you can hear what goes on, okay?” you said quickly, watching the door for when it opens. “No matter what happens, I’ll be fine, you hear me? Just don’t let them know. They’ll move one of us if they do.”

Danny didn’t have time to reply before the door to your room slammed open with a sharp bang! and Cain strolled inside, pushing his sleeves up his arms. His eyes settled on you as two of his men rushed towards you, grabbing a tight hold of your arms and yanking you to your feet. They shoved you into the chair deadbolted to the center of the room and locked your wrists into the metal cuffs.

“It’s going to be a good day, Y/n,” Cain smirked, leaning over you and running his fingers down the side of your face. You stretched your neck away from him, revolted by his touch. Cain only snickered, unbothered, as he straightened his back.

“Yeah?” you grumbled. “Why’s that?”

“Because today is the day you’re going to tell me about what our... mutual friend,” Cain sneered and the men behind him started to laugh. You narrowed your eyes, a dread forming in your stomach, as Cain cracked his knuckles. “How’s the asset adjusting to the ivory tower? He still twitchy if he hears a certain set of words?”

You clenched your jaw tight enough to draw blood from the bite of your cheek. Face as stoic as you could manage, you didn’t dare meet Cain’s eye. Even hearing Bucky referred to as ‘the asset’ set a rage firing in your stomach.

“Touchy subject?” Cain taunted and he threw a nauseating smirk at the soldiers behind him, all too amused by your attempts to ignore him. “Tell me, what exactly is your relationship to the soldier? Can’t imagine he actually has feelings under all that mush in his brain. I do have to be honest, though. I am exceptionally curious... can he even get it up?”

You let a heavy breath exhale through your nose as you kept you stare at the door. You jaw ached from how tight to was clamped down. He snickered with the guards behind him and your nails dug into the wood of the chair.

“Listen princess,” Cain started, pacing back and forth along the small room, “we can go through this day by day and I can keep torturing you, but when is it going to end? Huh? It ends with you telling me what I want to know. And I want to know about that insufferable, botched experiment of a traitor!”

Cain’s fist hit the side of your face before you could quite prepare for it. It stung, burned, and you met his eye as you spat blood onto the floor.

He groaned, shaking his head in disgust. “Did that... teenager in Wakanda get the trigger words out of the asset's head or not?”

“His name is Bucky, you piece of shit,” you growled and a flash of shock flash over Cain’s face, only to be replaced by an unsettling rage as his upper lip began to twitch, a heat in his face built entirely from fury.

He held his hand out behind him and one of the soldiers placed a brass ring in the center of his palm. You took in a steady breath, heart pounding, and in a fruitless attempt to prepare yourself. Cain slipped the ring onto his fingers, admiring it as it reflected in the dim lighting.

“One last time before this gets ugly. Have your docs cleared the trigger words from the asset’s head? Answer me, bitch, or you’ll regret it.”

“Fuck. You,” you spat, your hands curling into the arm rests, ready for what came next. He was a fool if he thought you’d turn on Bucky before you turned on SHIELD. You’d give up everything before you gave up Bucky.

It didn’t matter why they needed to know if Shuri had been successful in clearing the trigger words from his mind. You weren’t telling them shit, even if the words had been removed years ago. Bucky was free from these assholes and it wasn’t information they should even had the privilege of knowing.

Then, in one swift movement, Cain’s hand curled into a fist and he let out a ragged shout as the brass metal of the ring came in contact with the side of your face. A sharp crack! sounded through the room and your vision began to double. Cain swayed in front of you, two of him, four of the men behind him, and he shook the blood from his knuckles.

You struggled to keep your head up, eyes falling heavy as the menacing sound of his laugh echoed through the room. The last thing you saw was his hand raising up again, ready to strike, before darkness consumed you.

***

“Y/n?”

You groaned, rolling over onto your back and your cheek stung as your skin pealed from the concrete. Dried blood caked against the ground as you struggled to push yourself up. You didn’t know how you ended up on the floor or when they had released you from the chair, but the splitting ache in your head was enough to know you’d been knocked out cold.

“Come on, Y/n, wake up... you better still be alive over there...”

“M’alive,” you muttered out, using most of your energy to do so. Your arms collapsed beneath you and the concrete was cool on your skin.

“You sure?” Danny called nervously. “It didn’t sound good over there... What do they want with the Winter Soldier anyway?”

“Bucky,” you choked out as you crawled to the mattress in the corner of the room.

“What?”

“His name is Bucky,” you repeated, determined for at least one other person in this hell hole to know Bucky as the man you did, not just as the weapon Hydra designed him to be.

Danny paused and you could vaguely hear him scratching at his head. “Right, of course. Sorry. Do you think they’ll go after Bucky, too?”

You sighed, a slight swell of relief as you curled up onto the mattress, resting your head against the thin layer of cushion, thought it was stiff and prodded you with metal springs.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” you admitted, eyes falling heavy again. “If they want to know about the trigger words, they’re probably looking to activate the soldier again or... I don’t know...” your eyes closed, head starting to feel dizzy again and you struggled to talk, “...make new ones or... restart... restart the program with someone else... make it so they can’t take the words out of... of...”

Danny cursed under his breath and you didn’t hear him call your name again, lost again to the cold embrace of your mind.

***

Fourteen marks hidden under your mattress and it had been two weeks since you’d been taken hostage. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t questioning whether the team would ever find you. You held onto that image of Bucky, the one of him from your day in Brooklyn with the smile that etched up into his eyes, because it was the only thing keeping you from giving in to the hopelessness Cain worked so hard to instill in you.

“You doing okay, kid?” you asked through the wall after Danny groaned for the third time in as many minutes.

Turned out, Hydra had a use for the young soldier because they started to take him from his cell mid-way between the two visits they paid to your room. Danny was quiet about what they did when he was taken away. All he’d tell you was that they beat him and asked a few questions he didn’t know the answers to. You left it alone.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed, mattress squeaking as he turned over. “Better than you seem to be.”

Cain had grown increasingly frustrated with you and your refusal to give him any information on the team or on Bucky. He broke your nose the day prior and had yet to allow the doctor on site to attend to the infected open wound on your cheekbone from the brass ring. It oozed and smelled and ached like nothing else, like it had a pulse all its own.

Not only that, but Cain had decided to withhold your meals for the last three days as punishment for when you spat on his face after he taunted you about Bucky’s history as the soldier, how they had conditioned him and broke him. Despite the three punches to your gut that followed, it had been worth it. At least, until you started to feel so weak you could hardly hold your head up.

“I told you, Danny, I’m a survivor. It’s what I’m trained for,” you replied, leaning against the wall to get some relief from the fever flushing your skin.

“Yeah, but--”

The clicks echoed through your room and Danny silenced immediately. You closed your eyes, a heavy exhale in your lungs as you prepared for the devil to walk through. Cain stepped in through the frame with two lackies behind him. Only bothering to watch from the corner of your eye as you kept yourself slumped against the wall, too tired and too feverish to even produce the effort to glare at him.

“Come on, princess, we’ve got a show to do,” Cain sneered, his hand snaking around your forearm painfully tight and he yanked you to your feet. Your knees buckled under you and Cain let out a frustrated groan and tossed you into the arms of one of his men. “Get her to the holding room.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied in a thick Australian accent. His grip was no kinder as he hulled you through the door.

As they dragged you through the hallways, you tried to memorize the layout of the building, but were met with too much stimulation, blinding white lights, chatter of the agents, and an influx of various sounds you hadn’t been exposed to in weeks and it was all too much. You clamped your eyes shut and the dizziness in your head kept you from following his pattern through the halls.

Then, you were thrown to the ground, cold concrete under your body and a sigh of relief was only short lived before you were yanked up again, shoved into a chair and wrists locked to the arm rests.

You licked at the split on your lip, seeking moisture to alleviate the dryness there, only for it to burn. You winced, trying to find your strength as you watched Cain pace around the room. It was then you noticed the camera standing upon a tripod just a few feet from you. You swallowed back the bile in your throat at the steady realization of what they were going to attempt.

A woman walked into the room; someone Cain must have been waiting for because he stopped pacing the moment she stepped through the frame. Blonde hair tied up away from her face and dressed in jeans and a black, long sleeve t-shirt; she made her way to the camera, standing behind it and adjusting the specs.

“Listen up, princess,” Cain growled, grabbing a tight hold of your chin and forcing you to look in his direction. “You’re going to read from the cue cards and that’s it, do you hear me? No cute little quips or secret messages, because we’ll just start over and you won’t like what happens when we do.”

Cain’s grip grew tighter and you couldn’t stop the whimper the came out. Cain smirked at that, releasing you and your jaw ached even as he stepped away. He moved to stand behind the blonde woman he addressed as ‘Moira’ and nodded for one of his henchmen to hold the card up.

The red light appeared on the side of the camera, blinking. You stared at it for a moment, the thought occurring to you that your friends would see this, Bucky would see this, and you didn’t want to imagine the look on their faces when they did. If anything, it gave them proof you were still alive. You knew the SHIELD protocol was to presume an agent dead after ten days missing behind enemy lines. It was an efficient system, a largely accurate one. Hydra didn’t usually keep their prisoners alive for this long.

“Read,” Cain seethed from behind the camera and you thought of Bucky, of Nat, of Steve, Tony, Sam, everyone back at the compound and you wondered what they would do, if they would give in to these demands so easily.

So, with a defiance, you looked straight into the camera and spat, “Fuck Hydra.”

It was a mistake.

Cain rushed at you, unclipped your restraints and slammed you so hard against the wall, you were certain your head cracked. Vision blurring as his hand wrapped around your neck, spitting words into your ear you couldn’t quite hear as his fingers dug into your jugular. You scratched at him, nails too frail to make any bit of difference, and you struggled to breathe.

Gasping for breaths, kicking the air beneath you and Cain pushed you higher up the wall, and an immeasurable pressure built in your lungs, in your head, and you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Enough, Cain! I need her to actually be able to speak for this to be effective,” Moira groaned and Cain released his grip on you. You slumped down to the floor, barely able to catch your breath. “I’ll just keep rolling. Get her in the chair and we’ll go again.”

This time, it was Cain’s men that strapped you down to the chair, masks covering their faces for the sake of the camera. You stared at the blinking red light, then to the center of the lens, knowing that Bucky, your Bucky, would be on the other side watching this soon enough. You didn’t dare wonder how he’d react.

For a brief moment, unsure, your eyes flicked to Cain. Without much of a warning, his fist barreled against your jaw, just for the hesitation, and you spit a glob of blood off the side of the chair.

It took every ounce of energy you had to glare in his direction, though when Cain’s hand curled back into a fist and his upper lip twitched at you, you dropped your gaze.

Then, looking back to the cue cards placed just under the camera’s lens, you read, “My name is Special Agent Y/n Y/L/n. I am an Agent of SHIELD, an Avenger, and I was abducted by Hydra two weeks ago from their base in Western Russia.”

Your voice was raspy, broken, from Cain’s grip on your neck.

Moira grabbed a newspaper from the floor and put it in front of the camera, focusing on the date. Then, she tossed it aside. You swallowed back the excess blood in your throat. You glanced down at the cue cards, narrowing your eyes upon the words. Your heart dropped.

Shaking your head, clenching your jaw as you turned to Cain. “I’m not reading that.”

Another hit to your jaw and blood splattered from your lips. A heavy pant in your lungs and a blinding pulse in your head, you turned back to the camera. There was no fighting this. Your body couldn’t take any more. You straightened your back, hardening your features so it was clear, without a doubt, that these words were not your own.

“This is a warning to the people of New York,” you read, your voice flat and defiant. “The Avengers cannot protect you. They...” you took a deep breath, eye flashing at Cain before your turned back to the camera and thought of Bucky. You knew he’d take your words to heart, that he’d latch onto any excuse to blame himself for this, and you spoke the words anyway, even if you hated yourself for it. “They can’t even protect their own.”

The cue cards fell to the ground and Cain nodded, pleased as you bit down on your tongue to deprive him of the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“You will hear from us again,” Cain announced off camera and you couldn’t stop the look of blatant detest as you glared at him.

Moira moved to turn off the camera and your breath hitched. It was your last connection to Bucky, to your family. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the lens, imagining that it was Bucky you were staring at; deep blue ocean eyes and a kind smile that warmed a sense of relief in your chest.

Then, the red dot vanished and he was lost to you.

--

ok fam if you thought this was tough... just you wait 

feedback is always appreciated 💖

tags 🎥 @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes​ / @mywinterwolf​ / @breatheeagainnnn​ / @jewelofwinter​ / @panic-naran​ / @fairislesheets​ / @kaliforniacoastalteens​ / @captain-hammer-of-asgard​ / @daydreamsquad​ / @deanssweetheart​ / @maybesomedaytho​ / @montypythonsholysnail​ / @saharzek​ / @jillybeaner13​ / @chubby-dumplin​ / @searchingforbucky​ / @alohafromhell1​ / @tabalugax​ / @shesalatesh​ / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp​ / @aliensbecameourstyle​ / @bucksgoat​ / @serpensortiaaa​ / @trash-rats-unite​ / @hungry-pasta​ / @nervosaa​ / @lbuck121​/ @get0verit​ / @obama-mia​ / @imsoft-barnes​ / @this-broken-band-girl​ / @michelehansel​ / @itz-kira​ / @forever157​ / @grey-water-colors​ / @sebastianstan-posts​ / @sarcastic-and-cool​ / @sweetheartbarnes

[city-writes]

Before I Say Goodbye to You, One More Last Fist Bump

When Kirishima last saw Bakugo, he'd been blasting off through the air, with the intent on stopping whatever other villains had infiltrated Nabu Island. Shortly after, a giant, balloon doll-esque Midoriya towered over the forest in the west part of the island, with a child's voice begging for help.

Now both Midoriya and Bakugo were both unconscious, thoroughly thrashed, and Kirishima was helping the rest of Class 1-A do what they could to keep hope alive for the island's denizens.

Kirishima can't help but ask himself... if he'd followed Bakugo... would things have been different?

Warning(s): Heroes Rising Movie Spoilers; possible second chapter maybe? not sure Pairing(s): Eijirou Kirishima/Katsuki Bakugo (KiriBaku); Background Implied/One-sided Izuku Midoriya/Ochako Uraraka (IzuOcha)

Read it here on AO3!

Kirishima looked towards Bakugo in awe, having just witnessed him take down the weird mummy villain basically single-handedly after freeing himself from the villain's control. "Woah!" A smile broke out on Kirishima's lips, crying out to his best friend, "Nice one, Bakugo!"

"He kept collateral damage to a minimum too!" Kaminari added, looking at how precise of an explosion Bakugo had set off.

"There you are!"

At the sound of Yaoyorozu's voice, all three young men turned and looked her way. "You guys good?" Yaoyorozu asked, looking towards Kirishima and Kaminari as she and Jirou ran up to them. Before Kirishima could say anything in response, Bakugo spoke instead, looking at the lot of them from over his shoulder, standing from several feet away.

"Yeah," The ash blond haired teen replied, rubbing the arm that had sacrificed the grenade gauntlet while fighting the mummy villain, "That was too easy."

Kirishima looked to Yaoyorozu and Jirou then, breathing slightly heavy from his exertion. "Are the islanders oka--"

Before he could finish the question, the familiar sound of Bakugo's explosions rang from the other male's spot, all the grounded students watching as Bakugo's built frame sailed up through the air.

"Wait, where are you going?!" Jirou yelled, fully turning to face the direction Bakugo was flying off in.

"I'll leave the rescuing to you!" Bakugo's voice rang out, causing Kirishima to sigh and shake his head. "I'm gonna go crush the other villains."

As Bakugo blasted himself off, Kirishima began running in the direction his friend had been headed off in, stopping only when Kaminari cried out, "Dude?! Where do you think you're headed?!"

Kirishima slowed to a stop then, looking behind him expectantly at Kaminari, almost confusedly so. "What do you mean? We gotta go back up Bakugo!"

"Our focus needs to be on securing the islanders." Yaoyorozu strained, shaking her head at Kirishima's words. As she spoke, she began creating a pair of reinforced handcuffs and some strong, thick looking bindings. "Not only that, we need to restrain this villain while they're unconscious. The more of us here to watch over them, the better."

Kirishima cursed under his breath, knowing Yaoyorozu was right. Even though he wanted nothing more than to follow Bakugo into battle, he reluctantly walked back towards the others, and nodded. "Yeah, you're right, vice prez."

"You guys go take care of the villain," Jirou said, kneeling down on one knee as her earphone jacks pierced through the concrete below them. "I'll keep an ear out for any civilians that might be trapped or hiding nearby."

"Right!" Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Kaminari all said simultaneously, before running towards the unconscious mummy villain. Though all the while, Kirishima couldn't help the uneasy feeling settling in his gut when it came to Bakugo. As he and Kaminari securely held up the mummy villain so that Yaoyorozu could handcuff him, Kirishima looked in the direction Bakugo had headed off in, frowning uncomfortably.

So when not even ten minutes later, a giant, balloon doll-looking version of a bleeding Midoriya arose from the forest from the west, and the sound of a child's voice begging for someone to help Deku rang throughout the island, Kirishima couldn't help the dread that ran through him.

Especially when only a few seconds later, just as the giant Midoriya disappeared, the familiar sight and sound of an explosion made itself known in the exact same area.

____________________

The next time Kirishima saw Bakugo, he and Midoriya were unconscious and floating in the air, being whisked away in a hurry by Uraraka and Asui towards where the rest of their injured classmates and other civilians were being treated in one of the back rooms of the set of warehouses tucked away on the southwest side of the island. Instinctively, Kirishima moved to follow them, but stopped when he felt Jirou's hand on his shoulder, and looked back to see her shaking her head.

"I know you're worried, but for now, let those who have healing quirks take care of them." She said, tugging him gently in the opposite direction. "Yaomomo and Kaminari are already off doing what they can. We need to help them, and the other civilians, in any way we can."

Seething, Kirishima exhaled, one of his hands curling into a fist, shaking somewhat. "I know." With a last look towards Bakugo, watching as his body disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway, Kirishima closed his eyes, before turning with Jirou and heading towards the main center building in the set of warehouses that was currently holding the able-bodied civilians.

Iida was quick to set them to jobs: sending Jirou to aid Yaoyorozu and Kaminari in any way she could while they created materials and charged batteries respectively, and sending Kirishima to Ojiro, Aoyama, and Hagakure, having him help them serve the civilians food.

Every once in a while, Kirishima would see Mina or Sero whenever they'd come out to bring more food from the kitchen whenever they ran low serving. He learned from them about what happened with Bakugo and Midoriya, thanks to Koda and Asui working with them in the kitchen. The two of them had been present while retrieving Bakugo and Midoriya, and from what Kirishima understood, the villain they'd been fighting had multiple quirks, and they'd been trying to protect a couple of kids. Not only that, but thanks to them as well as Ojiro, he learned the extent of their injuries. Bakugo's ribs were broken, the muscles in his arms strained due to overuse of his quirk. He'd also had a head injury, and part of the side of his face had been gashed open. Midoriya too, had part of his face gashed open as well, and something had pierced at two separate points through his chest, cracking part of his sternum. (According to Ojiro, Shoji -who was apparently helping in the infirmary - said that the kids they saved claimed that the villain shot lazers from their fingers at Midoriya, which was what pierced him.) Not only that, but one of his shoulders had been dislocated, and the opposite arm had been sprained.

Additionally, according to Ojiro, both of them had shown signs of being electrocuted. According to the tailed teen, while he'd been being treated of his head wound, both Bakugo and Midoriya had been having multiple muscle spasms, and there were burns at points on their bodies where some sort of powerful energy source - presumably the electricity - had impacted them. On top of that, Ojiro had heard one of the clinicians tending to them that their hearts were beating irregularly, both having slight arrhythmias in congruence with the symptoms of electric shock.

At this, Kirishima couldn't help the worry, the upset, the irritation with himself that began to well up inside of him. If only he'd gone with Bakugo! Maybe... Maybe things would have been different!

Eventually, he made the decision to go check on them.

After handing a bowl of food to one of the civilians, Kirishima looked over to Ojiro, smiling apologetically as he gave a small laugh. "Hey Ojiro? Mind covering for me while I take a bathroom break?"

Ojiro blinked as he looked to Kirishima, nodding. "Yeah, sure. I got you covered."

"Thanks!" Kirishima gave Ojiro a toothy grin before bolting from his spot towards a nearby hallway, out the building so he could dip into another one, towards the room that'd he'd seen Asui and Uraraka hauling Bakugo and Midoriya off to. Before he could find it, however, he ran into a tired looking Uraraka, who seemed surprised to see him.

"Kirishima?"

Uraraka looked drained, and Kirishima could only assume it was because she was recovering from overuse of her own quirk. After all, she'd used her Zero Gravity on both Bakugo and Midoriya from one side of the island to another, and it was no secret that she'd get ill from overexerting her limits.

"You good?" Kirishima asked, though the second the question left his lips, he regretted it. Of course she wasn't good, none of them were.

But despite that, Uraraka exhaled, a tired smile coming to her. "I'm managing. We all are." She then tilted her head slightly, arching a brow as she looked at Kirishima. "Did you guys already finish distributing food?"

Kirishima shook his head then, looking a little sheepish. "No, we're still in the middle of doing that." He could see the question of 'Then why are you over here?' forming on her expression, so he continued. "I... mighta lied to Ojiro, and said that I needed to take a bathroom break." One of Kirishima's hands rose to the back of his head, his gaze falling to the ground. "Lying's pretty unmanly, I know, but..." He was quiet for a moment, closing his eyes for a brief second. "...I just wanted to check on Bakugo."

There was a brief silence that settled between them, before Uraraka placed a hand on one of Kirishima's upper arms. That was enough to get him to look at her. Seeing the gentle smile on her face, Kirishima blinked.

"You're a good friend, Kirishima." She said softly, her thumb brushing against his bicep. She exhaled out her nose, before continuing. "He and Deku are both still unconscious. The doctors from the island's clinic were still trying to heal them before I stepped out a moment ago." She sniffled then, her free hand going to rub at one of her eyes. "Shoji and Todoroki are in there with me, helping the doctors out where we can. I decided to head to the main warehouse to get the doctors something to eat, since everyone else is eating right now."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Kirishima nodded. "Better to get it now while it's still warm." He watched her nod, but when neither of them moved from their spot to head to their desired destination, Kirishima's gaze fell to the floor again, Uraraka's hand pulling away from him. "... Is it as bad as the others have said?" He asked quietly, surprised by how shaky his voice sounded.

Again, Uraraka sniffled, her lower lip trembling slightly before she pulled herself together. "It's... not great." She folded her arms then, more hugging herself than anything. "They were both in really bad shape when Tsu, Koda, Shoji, and I got them. The forest and the ground around the area was... ravaged. There were craters all over, and it looked like a bulldozer had ran a straight line through the forest." She was trembling at this point, and Kirishima was quick to wrap her in a hug, his heart plummeting to his stomach as he heard her begin to cry.

"I keep telling myself that they'll be ok, that it could be much worse." Uraraka mumbled against Kirishima's chest. "But I still..."

"I know." Kirishima murmured, a hand rubbing Uraraka's back. "You did a great job saving them. All of you did." He tilted his head a little bit, leaning it against hers. "Without you guys, it would have been worse."

Uraraka took a shaky breath, nodding against him. "T-Thanks, Kirishima." Another sniffle escaped her, and she kept speaking. "I just...! I'm so worried for Deku. His arms are in pretty bad shape. Thankfully, they're not broken, but its still gonna be bad on his arms. That's why he switched to kicks, to help ease the strain on them."

"You know how Midoriya is." Kirishima said with a weak laugh. "He was probably doing all he could to protect those kids, even if it meant risking his arms."

Nodding, Uraraka pulled away a bit from Kirishima, using her hands to rub at her eyes. "Yeah."

Kirishima looked down at her, noting her uneased expression. "...Is something else wrong?"

There was a hesitancy in Uraraka then, and she let loose a shaky breath. "There's... There's something you should know. About Bakugo."

The way her gaze failed to meet his caused Kirishima's breath to falter, caused his blood to run cold. "... What is it?"

"They didn't tell us directly," Uraraka murmured, her gaze falling to the floor, "I overheard one of the doctors. Apparently... one of Bakugo's broken ribs is close to one of his lungs. They said that it's in danger of puncturing it." When she looked up, she saw how Kirishima's eyes had gone wide, how pale he'd become. "I haven't told Todoroki or Shoji, cuz I didn't want the doctors to know I'd overheard them. But I know how close you and Bakugo are... I couldn't not tell you."

Now it was Kirishima's turn for his breath to be shaky. Regardless, he nodded, pulling Uraraka back into another hug, though more for his own comfort than hers. "...Thanks, Uraraka."

Uraraka didn't pull away from the hug, instead wrapping her arms around Kirishima in return. "Yeah, no problem."

The two of them allowed a few seconds of silent reassurance to pass, before they both pulled away from the hug, Uraraka rubbing at her face with a hand once more. "I should start heading towards the kitchen." She watched Kirishima nod in agreement, before placing a hand on one of his shoulders. "Don't worry, if I see Ojiro, I'll tell him I saw you help a kid near the bathroom, to try and get you a little more time."

A soft chuckle left Kirishima then, and he nodded. "I appreciate it."

She gave Kirishima's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before pulling her hand away, the two of them headed for their preferred destinations.

Kirishima was soon greeted by a sliding paper door, taking a moment to settle his nerves before opening it, stepping through into the tatami matted floor. He was met with the sight of several people in various states of injury, some sitting up, some laying on the floor. As Kirishima's eyes scanned the room, his gaze settled on the sight of Midoriya and Bakugo in the far left corner of the room, each of them being cared to by a different healer.

"Kirishima."

At the sound of his name, Kirishima tore his gaze away from Bakugo and Midoriya, instead looking left towards the owner of the voice, sitting close to the door, making ice in a bucket pan and distributing it into packs. "Todoroki."

"What are you doing here?" Todoroki asked, looking at Kirishima, not ceasing his movements in any way. Kirishima couldn't help but mentally compare his movements to one of those factory line robots that work by conveyor belts and stuff like that.

"I came to see how Bakugo and Midoriya were doing." He answered honestly, his gaze trailing back towards said teens. "I talked to Uraraka in the hall, she said they were still out of it."

"They are," Came Shoji's voice, the multi-limbed male sitting against the right side wall of the room, placing an ice pack on the head of a sleeping civilian, "the doctors are doing what they can to help them."

"Yeah, she told me." Kirishima replied, not taking his gaze off of Bakugo. After a brief second, he nodded in Bakugo's direction. "...Can I...?"

"That's fine." Todoroki said, looking back to the ice he was packing away. "Just be sure not to disrupt the doctors."

Kirishima nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it." He then carefully stepped through the open path to the back of the room, being mindful of other patients who were being treated there. Upon reaching where Bakugo and Midoriya were, Kirishima moved to sit on his knees, knelt at the foot of where Bakugo was laid. Kirishima's hands grasped at the fabric of his hero costume on his knees, watching as Bakugo took slow, shallow breaths. 'A broken rib is close to puncturing one of his lungs.' came the mental voice in his head, echoing what Uraraka had told him out in the hall. Kirishima's gaze lowered to Bakugo's gauze wrapped stomach, where the hands of the doctor who was treating him hovered, a yellow light coming from them. "How's he doin', doc?" He asked softly, not wanting to distract the doctor from his work too much.

The older man turned his head to look at Kirishima then, before looking back down at Bakugo. "I've nearly finished closing this boy's wounds." He said simply, the other doctor treating Midoriya nodding in agreement as she too was glowing from her hands, hovering above Midoriya's chest.

"I've done about all I can for this boy as well." She said, a sigh leaving her. "I've relocated his shoulder, and just about closed the wounds on his chest." A small frown formed on her lips then. "But they'll both need to get to the main land as soon as possible."

"Because of the electrocution?" Kirishima asked, looking towards her then.

She seemed to be surprised by his words, though the look on her face melted into one of tired amusement. "Word about your classmates sure spreads around fast, huh?" Kirishima blinked at that, before recoiling slightly. Was he not supposed to have said anything about that too? He knew to keep his mouth shut for now about Bakugo's ribs, but-- "Well, I suppose that's only natural." The doctor treating Midoriya spoke again, pulling Kirishima from his thoughts. "You might be heroes, but you're still youngins. Word of mouth travels fast between young friends."

"We've done what we could for their muscle spasms," The treating Bakugo said, his voice low, "easing the tension in them as much as we could manage. Especially for this boy, seeing as his arms were so tense after over-using his quirk. And their arrhythmias seemed to have lulled back into a more stable cardiac output." There was a moment of silence from the doctor then, and without looking behind him, Kirishima could feel Todoroki and Shoji's gazes looking his direction, the three students more than aware of the 'but' that was dripping off the edge of the doctor's words.

"...But we can't do anything for their broken bones." The doctor treating Midoriya admitted, Kirishima's blood running cold. "Its...not a matter of over exertion on our part," she continued, her hands not leaving Midoriya's body, "Its just the limitations of our quirks. We can ease muscles, close wounds, but we can't do anything about bones."

Kirishima's grip on his knees tightened. If they couldn't do anything about broken bones, then how long would it be before something happened, too deep a breath, too hasty a movement, too sudden a shift, and then Bakugo's lung would be--

Kirishima shook his head at the thought, wanting to banish it from his mind. Bakugo... Bakugo would be fine, right? What would he say, if he were conscious right now?

Do you really think I'm gonna let something as stupid as a broken rib take me down?!

Yeah, that sounded about right.

I'm gonna become the Number One Hero, Shitty Hair! Do you really think I'm so weak as to let a damn rib be my end?

No, mental Bakugo, of course not.

Then stop mopin' like a brat and get back to helping those damn extras with the islanders!

"Kirishima?"

At the sound of Todoroki's voice, Kirishima opened his eyes (he didn't even realize he'd closed them), letting lose a shaky breath. His gaze glazed over somewhat, his eyes growing warm with unshed tears. Raising a hand, Kirishima wiped at his eyes, and steadied his breathing, before answering his classmate. "Yeah?"

"Do you need to be seen by the doctors too? You're trembling." Kirishima chuckled softly at his concern, unable to get a word in as Todoroki continued speaking. "I heard from one of the others that you'd helped Bakugo bring in the villain we have under watch. Did you over-exert yourself? Don't push yourself if you need to rest."

"Nah, I'm good, Todoroki." Kirishima said, standing up from his spot. Mental Bakugo was right, he needed to get back to work. Kirishima bowed then, hanging his head as he spoke to the doctors. "Thank you for letting me see my friends." He smiled somewhat as he watched them nod in response as he straightened himself back up, and proceeded to turn around, making his way back through the path of people, towards the door. Before he left, he looked to Todoroki and Shoji, giving them each a single, determined nod, before looking over his shoulder for one last look at Bakugo, then promptly leaving the room.

On his way back, he ran back into Uraraka, who was holding a tray full of onigiri for those helping in the infirmary, and he wordlessly gave her a thumbs up, getting a smile in return as they passed one another. If he'd paid closer attention, he would have seen the pair of kids sneakily following behind her, making their way towards the infirmary as well.

______________________________

"You have to hand me over to the villains!"

Everyone in the room fell silent as the young boy spoke, before Uraraka's timid question of "...What?" broke the silence.

The remainder of Class 1-A had gathered in a back room after tending to all the islanders as best they could, and as they were trying to figure out the villain's motives, this kid had shown up, claiming that the villains wanted his quirk.

Kirishima seethed as the kid continued speaking. "The villain said he wouldn't kill me! A-And it's fine it I end up losing my quirk!" He could see the fear in this kid's eyes as he spoke, the tears threatening to fall. "As long as it means everyone on the island is safe!"

Again, there was silence in the room as everyone processed what to do. Kirishima looked over at Todoroki, who's bangs were covering his eyes. At Uraraka, who looked mortified. At Iida, class rep Iida, who looked shocked, yet regretful. As his eyes scanned the unsure expressions of the rest of the class, Kirishima couldn't help the nausea that arose in his stomach.

No one was seriously considering handing the kid over, right?!

"No, we can't do that."

Several gasps escaped the mouths of many, including Kirishima himself, when Midoriya stepped into the room, hands curled into fists by his sides. He looked a little roughed up, but there was plenty of life in his eyes, determination in that emerald gaze as he scanned the room housing his fellow students.

Uraraka stood from her seat, relief flooding her voice. "Deku...!"

"Midoriya." Iida said, an incredulous tone to his voice. "You're ok!"

Midoriya nodded, before his determined look softened into a smile, and his gaze came to rest on the boy the villains were after. "And it's all thanks to Katsuma's power." Midoriya took a few steps forward then, before kneeling and bringing himself to Katsuma's height. "You can activate cells." Midoriya rose his hands somewhat then, looking down at them. "It speeds up cellular regeneration, and enhances physical performance." Curling his hands into fists, Midoriya looked back at Katsuma, smiling brightly. "Thanks to you and your quirk, I recovered super quickly! It's an amazing ability, Katsuma. I'm so grateful."

Kirishima could see Katsuma trembling, heard the whimper leave the boy before he spoke to Midoriya. "Y-You... really mean it?"

Midoriya nodded at Katsuma. "We're not gonna let anything scary happen to you. That's the whole reason we came to this island, right?"

The tension in the air from before lifted at Midoriya's words, Kirishima feeling a bit of a weight lift from his chest. Like hell they were gonna hand the kid over to the villains!

"Why are you losers all so on edge? All we gotta do is kill some stupid villains, right?"

Kirishima's heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice, the sound of the low, slightly raspy tones. His eyes flew towards he door, relief flooding through his system as he saw Bakugo standing there, looking slightly annoyed, his arms folded as he leaned against the door. Without thinking, Kirishima took a step forward, though he quickly stopped himself from running over and hugging the other boy out of relief and thankfulness. "Bakugo!"

Midoriya stood and turned to look behind him, facing Bakugo then. Bakugo straightened up a short moment later, no longer leaning against the door, as he stared Midoriya down. Kirishima watched as they shared a nod, and Midoriya then turned to Katsuma and his sister, smiling.

"Don't worry," Midoriya said as he looked down at them. "We'll protect you two!"

Kirishima watched with a grin as Bakugo punched into his own hand, a small explosion going off as his fist made impact with his palm. "The villains are as good as dead!" He proclaimed with a devilish grin of his own.

"We'll keep everyone else on the island safe too!"

"Obviously, we'll win."

Kirishima couldn't help the wide, toothy grin as Midoriya and Bakugo both finished speaking, knocking his fists together in excitement. The room erupted into various proclamations and words of encouragement and solidarity as each student hopped on board with their determination and resolution.

"I've got your backs!" Kirishima added in to the cacophony of students, not caring that his words were more than likely drowned out by the others. But when Bakugo's eyes met his, and the blond gave him a smirk and a nod, Kirishima knew his promise didn't fall on deaf ears.

________________________________

The plan was set.

Iida had given the order for everyone to gather what they could, assist in any way they could, while he and the mayor of Nabu Island gathered the residents in the center of the warehouses and explained Midoriya's plan to them. They were all going to make the trek to the castle ruins at the northwestern point of the island and have their final stand against the villains there, while some of them stayed behind with the islanders tucked safely away in the cave on the far side of the cliff.

As for their course of action, they were all going to separate the three villains as best they could, and deal with each of them separately. There was a villain with long hair that apparently went sharp like blades. Tokoyami and Mina were going to take care of them. There was some beast-like villain, one that Todoroki, Iida, Sato, Sero, Ojiro, and Tokoyami had been taking on earlier. The ones they had planning on dealing with him were Todoroki, Iida, Asui, and Kirishima himself. Everyone else, except for Sato, Koda, and Hagakure, were going to be dealing with the main villain, the All For One ripoff, and protecting Katsuma and Mahoro.

One by one, student after student left the room they calculated their plan in, with the exception of Bakugo, who was unwillingly looking after the pair of Mahoro and Katsuma, who were sleeping together on the couch in the room. As Kirishima made his way to leave with Mina, Sero, and Kaminari, he stopped, looking over his shoulder at Bakugo, whose eyes were closed as he was leaning against the wall next to the couch. Kirishima then turned to the others and chuckled. "I'll join you guys in a second, start heading there without me."

Sero and Kaminari shot Kirishima a concerned look, but Mina simply nodded. "Alright!" With that, she grabbed Sero and Kaminari's wrists, leading them towards wherever they were all needed. Kirishima's expression softened into a smile at the sight, before he turned back into the room. He watched as Bakugo cracked open an eye at the sound of him coming back, and gave a small grunt.

"What?"

Kirishima chuckled softly then, his gaze falling from Bakugo to the sleeping kids. "Didn't think you'd wanna look after the kids by yourself."

"I can handle a couple of sleeping brats." Bakugo retorted, though without any bark to his tone. He closed his eye and exhaled, folding his arms before speaking again. "You should go help the other extras. Raccoon Eyes will only be able to keep Flat Face and Sparky in line for so long."

"She's more capable than you give her credit for, Bakugo." Kirishima murmured, kneeling down to the couch, pulling the blanket covering the kids down a bit, covering up one of their exposed feet. "Besides, I know you'd rather be out there than cooped up in here."

Bakugo gave a hmph at that, opening his eyes to watch Kirishima. He frowned slightly, seeing the distant look on Kirishima's face as he watched over the kids. "... Why are you really here?"

He watched as Kirishima tensed slightly then, a tired smile coming to the redhead. "It's nothing, really. I'm just..." Kirishima paused for a moment, before standing up, looking at Bakugo with a look so genuine, it took the blond off guard. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Their gazes locked for a few seconds, before Bakugo looked away with a tch!, doing everything he could to fight the feeling of heat wanting to rise to his cheeks. He heard Kirishima laugh softly, so he glared back at the redhead, noting the slight tinge of color that had risen to Kirishima's cheeks. Exhaling through his nose, Bakugo glanced over to the sleeping kids, Kirishima following suit.

"... We're gonna beat those bastards." Bakugo murmured. "We're gonna fucking win."

Kirishima nodded in agreement, before replying. "I wish I'd be there to have your back this time. I tried going earlier, after you'd taken down the mummy guy, but--"

"If you'd come with me then, you woulda gotten your ass handed to you by that asshole with the multiple quirks." Bakugo's voice came quiet, terse. His gaze returned to Kirishima, though the other teen still kept his gaze on the kids. "You wouldn't have been able to punch through his weird air shields. Your quirk woulda spared you from his lazers, maybe from the jaws of his weird ass back dragons, but not his electricity, or his ability to weaponize the air." Bakugo stood up off the wall then, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Plus, you're a close combat type. He coulda stolen your quirk, and if that asshole figured out how to go Unbreakable, on top of all the shit he can currently do?" Bakugo scoffed. "We'd be in deep shit."

Kirishima's hands curled into fists, shaking slightly at his sides. He couldn't argue with that. "I guess that's why they got me fighting the beast dude." He chuckled, looking at Bakugo then. "I heard from Todoroki and Iida what to expect, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous."

A growl ripped from Bakugo's throat then, and he stepped towards Kirishima, a fire in his eyes as he pressed a finger to the redhead's chest. "Don't start with that bullshit. You're gonna kick that guy's ass."

Kirishima blinked, before laughter slowly bubbled up from his chest, and he placed a hand on Bakugo's shoulder. "Thanks, dude."

"Don't thank me for telling you something you should already know." Bakugo pulled his finger back, but didn't pull away from Kirishima's grip, glaring into the other male's eyes. Kirishima's laughter died down, and after a moment, he moved, pulling Bakugo into a loose hug. The blond tensed, but didn't pull away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Give him hell, got it?" Kirishima murmured softly, the warmth of his breath tickling Bakugo's ear. There was so much more he wanted to say; Look after yourself. Stay safe. Don't scare me like that again. But he knew better, knew that Bakugo would see that as him pitying him, looking down on him, and Kirishima wanted to do anything but that.

When he felt Bakugo's arms wrap around him in return, Kirishima was sure his heart had stopped.

"Of course I will, dumbass. Who the hell do you think I am?" Bakugo's voice came more amused sounding than anything, and even though Bakugo couldn't see it, it was enough to bring a smile to Kirishima's face. He felt Kirishima press his forehead down against the top of one of his shoulders, felt Kirishima's grip around him tighten slightly. "After we kill these villains, I'm gonna get you back for being on Sparky's side the other night, makin' me do the damn night watch patrol."

He felt Kirishima's laugh before he heard it. "I'm looking forward to it."

A comfortable quiet settled among them, Bakugo slowly moving to rest his head against Kirishima's. "You should head out. Four-Eyes will come looking for you if he sees you're not where you're supposed to be." Despite his words, his arms didn't release their hold on Kirishima, he didn't step away from the other.

But when he felt Kirishima sigh, he knew to expect the feeling of the other male to be the one to pull away. "Yeah, you're right." Kirishima said as he reluctantly pulled away.

The two looked at each other, neither doing anything to try and hide the flush that had risen to their cheeks.

Though Bakugo watched as Kirishima raised a fist in his direction, the redhead giving him a sharp, toothy grin. "See you on the other side, dude."

Bakugo couldn't help the wide grin that tugged on his own lips, raising a hand and bumping his fist against Kirishima's. "Naturally."

With dual looks of satisfaction, both boys shared a nod, and Kirishima turned, heading towards the door, giving Bakugo one last wave before he headed out. After he was gone, Bakugo raised a hand to the shoulder Kirishima had rested his head on, faintly rubbing the spot with his palm. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips then, and Bakugo gave a small snort.

Those villains wouldn't know what fucking hit them.

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Chapter 35

Warnings: same as the other ones

Rating: SFW

(A/N: this was my favorite scene from COM)

You and the trio left the Eleventh Floor entrance and entered the world of Twilight Town. 

“Gawrsh... Where are we, guys?” Goofy asked.

“Hmm... I dunno... I've never been here,” you said.

“Same here,” Sora said. 

“Me neither,” Donald said. Jiminy jumps down from Sora’s shoulder.

“That can't be right! Up 'til now, the only places we've been are from Sora's and (Y/N)’s memory,” he said. 

“Maybe so, but I definitely don't remember this,” Sora said. 

“You might have forgotten this town just like the other stuff,” you said. 

“This is terrible. Our memories are practically gone,” Jiminy said. Donald and Goofy looked down in despair. You and Sora took out Naminé's good luck charm.

“We'll be okay. See, look at this...” you said. 

“Naminé's good luck charm!” Goofy said. 

“There's a special memory that goes with this. One night, when Naminé, (Y/N), and I were little, there was this meteor shower. Naminé started crying. She said, ‘What if a shooting star hits the islands?’ So I said, ‘If a shooting star comes this way, I'll hit it right back into outer space!’ I was swinging this toy sword around the whole time while (Y/N) was hugging Naminé. Naminé just smiled and said, ‘Thanks.’ And then she gave us this,” Sora said. An image of Naminé entered you and Sora's head. She began to talk.

“Sora, (Y/N), I'm so sorry. All this, because of me...” she said. The image faded away. You and Sora kept talking about the charm.

“Naminé said she had these ever since she was a baby,” you said. 

“And she gave them to you two? Aww...” Donald said.

“Yeah. So we promised her... From now on, we'll bring you good luck. we'll keep you safe. But then one day, Naminé left the islands...and we forgot about her all this time. We really let her down...” Sora said. 

~~~~

You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy came to the entrance to a mansion inside the town. Sora stopped and looked around.

“What's wrong?” Goofy asked. 

“Something...feels really strange. I'm sure I don't know this place, but it's starting to feel like it's familiar to me...” Sora said. 

“You must have come here sometime before,” you said. 

“No, and that's what's strange...” Sora said.

“It could be like with Naminé. You forgot lots of other stuff---and that's why you remember this place now,” Goofy said. 

“No... It's different. With Naminé---my memories...sort of came drifting back to me, a little piece at a time. But not now. It's not memories---just this idea that I must have been here before.” 

“So, feeling nostalgic?” Vexen appeared and you all tensed up.

“Sora, (Y/N)...a question, then, for you... Your memories of Naminé or your feelings here---which of the two of these is more real, I wonder,” Vexen said. 

“Naminé, of course! Whatever it is that we're feeling, I bet it's just another one of your mean little tricks!” you said. Vexen laughed. 

“The memory's wiles can be cruel. In its silence, we forget. In its obsession, it binds our hearts,” he said. 

“Cut the riddles!” Sora said. 

“I told you--- This place was created solely from another side of your memory. It is on the other side of your heart that the memory of this place exists. It is your heart that remembers.” 

“You're wrong! I don't know this place!” Sora said.

“If you remain bound by the chain of memories and refuse to believe what is truly found inside your heart... ...then throw it away. You are not a Keyblade master---just a slave to twisted memories. Yes... Exactly like my Riku.” Vexen summoned his shield.

“Your existences is worth nothing!” he said.

“Like YOUR Riku? Worth nothing?” you asked. You and Sora was overcome with anger.

“That's enough! YOU'RE the one who changed Riku! Every word you've said is a lie! I'd never throw away my heart!” Sora said.

“Neither will I!” you said. Sora summoned his keyblade and you grabbed your dagger.

“I'm gonna take you down and save Riku and Naminé. THAT'S what's in my heart!” Sora said. You and Sora fought Vexen. After the fight Vexen laid on the ground and panted in pain.

“Urrgh... You have such strength, even at the mercy of your memory---” Vexen groaned.

“None of that matters! Just put Riku back!” you said. Vexen laughed. 

“Just put him back?” he asked as he got up.

“The Riku you speak of...has but one fate, to sink into the darkness--- and you will share that fate, Sora and (Y/N)! If you continue to seek the girl, Naminé, the shackles will tighten, you'll lose your hearts...and end up becoming Marluxia's pawn!” he said. 

“Marluxia? What does Naminé have to do with---” Sora asked. Axel's chakram flew past you and Sora and struck Vexen. Axel was behind you and Sora. You and Sora turned around and gasped.

(Here comes the best part!)

“Axel!” you and Sora said. 

“Yo, Sora, (Y/N). Did I catch you at a bad time?” Axel said. Vexen started to get up.

“Axel, why...?” he asked. 

“I came to stop you from talking too much...by eliminating your existence,” Axel said. 

“No... Don't do it!”

“We are just Nobodies who have no one to be, yet we still ‘are.’ But now you can be nothing instead of just being a Nobody. You're off the hook.”

“No... Please don't!” Vexen cowered.

“I don't want to---” 

“Goodbye.” (I laugh at this every time! It’s so funny!) Axel snapped his fingers and Vexen was engulfed in flames. He then faded away into darkness. You and Sora watched in horror.

“What are you--- What ARE you people?!” Sora asked. 

“Hm... Don't know. I wonder about that myself,” Axel said as he disappeared. You, Sora, and the gang left Twilight Town. Meanwhile, Larxene and Marluxia were in the Organization's meeting room. Axel appeared in the room.

“Nice work. I say good riddance to that blabbermouth,” Larxene said.

“Marluxia... You used Vexen to test Sora and (Y/N)'s strength, didn't you?” Axel asked. 

“Not just Sora's. It was yours, too. We weren't sure if you actually had it in your bones to take out a fellow member.” Larxene walked over to Axel.

“Well, I guess that you did. It's time to join up. Taking over the Organization will be like child's play with the three of us,” she said. 

“So that's where Sora and (Y/N) comes in,” Axel said. 

“Of course. They want to see Naminé, so why don't we just give them what they want?” While Larxene was talking with Axel, Marluxia started talking with Naminé.

“Rejoice, Naminé. The time is near for you to meet the heroes that you've been longing for,” Marluxia said. 

“I'm...glad,” Naminé said.

“But I'm warning you. You'd better not do anything to betray Sora and (Y/N)'s feelings. Do you understand me, little one?” Larxene said. 

“I understand.” 

“All you need do is layer Sora and (Y/N)'s memories, and bring their hearts closer to you. And remember, (Y/N) is a spirit who may have ties to our superior. She’s strong. Make her feel weak,” Marluxia said. Him and Larxene disappeared.

“Sora, (Y/N)... Even if you come for me---what then?” Naminé asked. You and Sora entered the Eleventh Floor Exit Hall. The two of you were greeted by Riku.

“Riku!” you and Sora said. 

“You'll hurt Naminé if you go further,” Riku said. 

“You still want to fight? But Vexen's gone, so now you're free!” you said. 

“It doesn't matter what happens to him. I'm protecting Naminé from you two. That's what's in my heart. Sora, (Y/N), I made a promise to Naminé. I promised to... keep her safe.” 

“You did?” Sora asked. 

“There was a meteor shower...this one night when she and I were little... Naminé got scared and said, ‘What if a shooting star hits the islands?’ So I told her: ‘If a shooting star comes this way, I will protect you!’”

“You made a promise! With a toy sword! And hugged her!” you said. 

“What... How do you know about that?”

“Because...that was the promise we made to her that night! We would protect her! We said it! And (Y/N) hugged her!” Sora said. 

“Don't lie! You weren't the one there that night!” 

“YOU're the one who wasn't there! That was when she gave her good luck charm to US!” you said. 

“Her what?!” You and Sora took out the charms.

“See?” Sora asked. Riku gasped.

“Tell me... Where did you get that?” he asked. There was a small flash, and Riku held his head in pain.

“Sora, (Y/N)...good try,” he said. 

“Huh?” you and Sora asked. 

“That must be a fake. I've got the real one right here!” He took out a similar charm. 

“Wha--- THREE of them?!” Sora asked. 

“Fakes should be destroyed!” Riku said. You, Sora, and Riku broke out into a fight. After the battle, Riku panted.

“Riku...” you said. Riku ran away, leaving his good luck charm behind.

“Huh?” Sora asked. He picked up the charm and Donald and Goofy appeared.

“Isn't that Naminé's good luck charm?” Donald asked. 

“It's just like ours,” you said. 

“How'd he get this?” Sora asked. The charm glowed and gave off a strong light.

“Woah!” you all said. The charm turned into two cards of Destiny Islands.

“It turned into a card!” Goofy said. You and Sora walked toward the entrance to the next floor. Donald and Goofy stayed back, thinking about what's happened.

“Aww...I don't understand what's going on...” Donald said. 

“Let's just keep moving, okay? It doesn't matter,” you said. 

“It DOES matter. How can two of you have the same memory? You can't both be right.” 

“I'm wrong? Fine, then don't believe me!” You felt your eye twitch in pain and held onto it.

“That's not what he meant. We're just kinda worried,” Goofy said. 

“Then let's ask Naminé! That should clear it up. Look, we don't have time to sit around. So let's GO,” Sora said. Donald and Goofy exchanged looks.

“Sora, (Y/N), what happened to ya?” Goofy asked. 

“What's THAT mean?” you and Sora asked. 

“Well, ya always get real touchy when it comes to stuff about Naminé... But before we came to this castle, you two didn't even remember what her name was.” 

“Now Naminé is the only thing you two talk about,” Donald said. 

“It doesn't make sense. Maybe you two should just slow down and think ahead about some of these things.”

“Think ahead? What is the matter with you guys? Do you want me to abandon her?!” you asked. 

“No, that's not it---” Donald said. 

“Then do whatever you want! You can lay back and take a nap for all I care! WE’RE going to find Naminé!” Sora said. You and Sora ran ahead into the next floor, leaving Donald and Goofy behind.

“Sora! (Y/N)!” Donald and Goofy said. They looked at each other, worried. Meanwhile, Axel and Naminé were in the Organization's meeting room. 

“You're all that they got left. So then, if you don't stop this, no one will,” Axel said. Naminé gasped.

“But I... It's too late,” she said. 

“You shouldn't give up just yet. Say, Naminé. Have you noticed? Marluxia doesn't seem to be around,” Axel said.

“What are you...saying?” 

“Just that there's no one here who would want to get in your way.” Naminé ran out of the room.

“Just make it count. Now THIS should be interesting. Try and make it enjoyable, Sora and (Y/N). It's the least you can do for me, you know,” Axel said. He laughed. He then noticed something and clutched his chest.

“Hey, wait. I'm enjoying this. You guys ARE something else!” he said.

~~~~

You and Sora entered the Twelfth Floor. The two of you took out the Destiny Islands card and looked at it. Jiminy popped out from Sora's hood.

“Sora, (Y/N), that was no way to---” he said. 

“Keep it to yourself!” Sora said. The two of you were about to walk through the door but another headache hit you. This one was more painful than the others. It was so painful that you ended up screaming in pain.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?” Sora asked. You didn’t respond but only groaned in pain. 

~~~~

You were back where you saw your mom and your dad. This time, your mom was laying in bed, rubbing her tummy which you knew that was you inside. 

“We need a name,” she said. 

“How about, Odile?” Ira asked. 

“Nah. Don’t like it.” (sorry if your name’s actually Odile)

“Okay. How about (Y/N)?” 

“(Y/N)...I like that.” You smiled at the scene of your parents deciding your name. The scene faded and you saw Vanitas walk up to you. 

“Vani? Vani!” you said. You ran to him and hugged him tight. 

“I saw what happened to you and I’m so sorry. Dad’s getting stronger by the minute,” he said. 

“What should we do?” you asked. 

“I-I don’t know. If you find Ven, tell him that you’re my sister. I’m sure he’ll understand what you’re saying.”

“But what about my eye? It looks like dad’s. What’s happening to me?” 

“Remember when I sent you away?” 

“Yeah.”

“I did it so that dad wouldn’t use you as a vessel but it seems like your bond with him is what making your eye look like his. And if this continues, he’ll make you his vessel.” 

“Vani, I’m scared.” 

“I know. Let’s try not to think about it. Tell me about your adventures. I haven’t heard about those.”

“Okay. Um, I found out that my mom is a spirit like me. Her name’s even on my dagger.” 

“That’s awesome. I’m so proud of you.”

“And that’s not all. Whenever I get these headaches, I see what my mom actually looks like, and dad’s not actually my dad. It’s someone named Ira.” 

“I knew that you weren’t actually his daughter. Not only did you have more light inside you, he told me that you weren’t.” You felt Vani starting to disappear. 

“I don’t want you to leave yet,” you said.

“I know. But just know that I’ll always be by your side,” he said. He slipped through your arms and gave you a little unversed. 

~~~~

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Sora asked as you relaxed from your headache. 

“Y-yeah,” you said. You sat up and felt something in your lap. You looked down and saw that it was the unversed that Vanitas gave you. 

“What is that?” Jiminy asked. 

“Vani...” you said softly. The unversed looked at you and purred. 

“I-I’m not sure what it is but she seems to like me,” you said. 

“What are you gonna name her?” Sora asked. 

“Odile.” Sora smiled and helped you stand up. The unversed climbed up onto your shoulders and found comfort there. 

“Ready?” Sora asked. You nodded and the two of you headed into the new world that was waiting for you. 

To be continued...

[datninjalyfe]

Stay, Part 1: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Punishment

Most of the ride back to U.A. was All Might talking about how he can’t believe one of his own students, one of the best, could sneak past the gates and find his way into a nightclub. It was like almost as awkward as having the sex talk with his father. The thought of it made him shiver. Still, if he was in the newspaper like his mom told him he was, All Might would likely find out anyway why he snuck out anyway. He told All Might he was there to see a girl and All Might chuckled.

“No girl is worth it.” All Might said. “Trust me.”

“Also, it was for—,” Katsuki was unable to find the right words. He stumbled until he just said, “—research.”

All Might was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Now you’re starting to sound like Midoriya.”

“I wish people would stop saying his name.” Katsuki admitted. “I wish he would just go away. This is his fault!”

All Might looked at him. “His fault?”

Katsuki didn’t want to talk about it. He’d said enough. Why was he being so self-destructive? It didn’t make sense. Was he gay? Or bi? He liked having sex with Camie last night, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just a fuck, empty and irrelevant. That was confirmed by the kiss. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss Izuku. His soft lips reaching for his.  Stop! His mind yelled.

“I think you and Midoriya need to have a nice sit down and chat.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I’m not sitting down in the same room with him.”

“You two used to be close. Proper rivals even. That’s what you both said after your fight last year. Now you won’t even be in the same room as him? What’s changed?”

“Everything’s changed and I just don’t know how to handle it in the way that people want me to. I have all this pressure already on me, but it’s like I don’t know how to do or say exactly what’s going on when he’s around. So, I snuck out and had meaningless sex with a girl I’d met maybe four times before that to see if I could even distract myself and it worked until I got myself arrested.”

Those words reminded him of the other two conversations: Yoyo saying, “It’s just love, regardless of who it is or what it stands for…It’s easier to be yourself than try and pretend to someone else.” and Aizawa saying, “Being different doesn’t give you the right to be mean to people.”

Those two images flashed through his brain as All Might continued, “I managed to talk everyone into letting you stay, but there will be consequences. In addition to the three days of house arrest Aizawa gave you, you’ll have another four weeks added to that. You’ll not be allowed to leave and when you enter the school, they’ll give you an ankle bracelet so they can track your movements. You’ll also have to train 3 times harder than everyone else with 100lbs of weight added to you. If your classmates run the mile, you run 3. You’ll also be given more school work until the teachers deem you can be a good, model student. I’m not here to tell you what to do, but if you pull another stunt like that, you can kiss being a pro hero good-bye. Just focus on what’s really important.”

On what’s really important. Katsuki repeated in his mind. The last image flashed through his head, but the image wasn’t of being a Pro Hero, or the insane of extra work he had—

—the image was of Deku.

“We’re here!” All Might said, trying to make it sound like he used to. “And oh, looks like Aizawa has your class lined up.”

Katsuki got out of the car and saw 4 rows of his classmates bowing low before Aizawa, who’s hair was straight up. They were all panting, as if they’d just got punished too. “Oh good,” Aizawa said, turning around. Katsuki felt the heat from his chest leave him almost instantly. He couldn’t produce an ounce of sweat, but felt a cold chill run down his spine as Aizawa said, “You’re here.” He used his scarf and snatched Katsuki roughly, the binds almost cutting off the circulation in the air. He pulled Katsuki in so close, Katsuki swore he could feel Aizawa's anger. “Did All Might explain to you everything that will happen?” Aizawa held up an ankle bracelet. “You’ll go straight into the dorms where you’ll find weights you are to attach to your wrists during training after your house arrest. If I so much as hear that you’ve been thinking of leaving campus, your ass is grass. Do you understand everything I’m saying? Because clearly you didn’t get the memo last time.” Aizawa was fuming. “Oh, and I’m your homeroom teacher again.”

“You are?”

“I’m the only one who can deal with the dipshits like you and the ones who left to go find you—,” Aizawa held out his hand. “The front row of students decided to take it upon themselves to go get you after finding out you’d left the dorms. They’ll be suspended as well and not allowed to go to the dance.” Katsuki looked at the front row. Everyone was still bowing before Aizawa. It was the usual suspects: Kirishima, Todoroki—

—and Izuku.

“They came to find me?”

“Not sure how they would have found you, considering you went all the way to the Cloud City.” Aizawa said, his hair falling. Katsuki released a breath when he felt the warmth return to him.

The three of them looked ragged like they ran into villains, until he looked at Izuku’s ankle and attached was like the ankle bracelet that Katsuki also held in his hand. He was wearing a tank top too, like Katsuki was, and Katsuki could see the outline of his triceps. The sun started to rise, giving the sky a red tint. It made the green of Izuku’s eyes stand out even more. Deku’s green hair looked darker in the rise of morning, tangled and matted together.

“They tried to climb the back gate and probably would have managed to make it over until they met up with some of my colleagues and other members of faculty. Stupidly, like you, they decided to fight.”

Aizawa walked over to Kirishima and bent down to peer at him in the eyes, but Kirishima kept his gaze low, his body still bowing low. “They will receive the same punishment as you.” Aizawa raised his voice. “Until all of you learn your lesson. Is. That. Clear?!”

“Yes, sir!” They all shouted at once.

“Good, now, get out of my sight.” Aizawa said, walking away. They all moved from their position and stared at Katsuki. Most of the students when inside, but didn’t take their eyes off him until they got through the door.

Izuku was the first to move towards him, but stopped in his tracks when Todoroki gestured to Kirishima, whose shoulders moved up and down and the two of them went to go comfort him. Katsuki also started to move towards him, but the look Todoroki gave Katsuki blocked him. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“The fuck does that mean—?”

But that sentence was cut off when Katsuki saw Izuku. Katsuki definitely contemplated hitting Todoroki, but thought the better of it. Every single fucking one of them was clearly upset, but Kirishima was the one who spoke, “Dude, you went to a nightclub? To see—,” Kirishima turned his head so Katsuki couldn’t see him crying, but it was obvious he was. He sniffled loudly. “You knew how I felt about her. I literally can’t stop thinking about her,” Katsuki 100 percent understood how Kirishima felt. Not about Camie, but about Izuku, who stood less than 5 feet away from him. But he couldn’t just ignore Kirishima.

“Wait, this is about Camie?” Katsuki said. He looked at his shoes. It was Kirishima who had originally reintroduced the two, even if it was unintentional.

“Even just the way she talked to you. I would have killed someone to have her even look at me for more than 2 seconds. And last year, when you told me you got her number, I thought that this could be my chance to go ahead and just ask her out. But you two went to a nightclub and The Rage at that?” Kirishima wiped his face with his sleeve. He was also wearing an ankle bracelet. “I know what they do there, dude. Everyone in fucking Japan knows—,”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Katsuki snapped. His face reddened with anger and he tried to suppress his quirk. He closed his eyes, trying not to look at Kirishima’s face. He tried to be so manly all the time and Katsuki knew how hard it must’ve been for him to cry. They shouldn’t have come after me.

“You shouldn’t have left in the first place.” Kirishima yelled back, almost in response to Katsuki’s thought. “You’re out of control. We have all tried talking to you about what’s going on, but it’s getting to be too much to handle.”

Katsuki could hear his heart beating hard against his chest. He inhaled deeply and told the few that were still around to hear it, “Fine, you want me to apologize? I was angry and upset about the fight with Todoroki earlier. I feel left out of everyone’s business and—,” he opened his eyes and looked at Izuku. “—we’re all supposed to friends, but I’m no good at that. And Camie texted me at a bad time and I just wanted to leave for a few hours.”

“Kacchan.” the little flute said. Katsuki opened his eyes and peered up, looking into Izuku’s bright green eyes.

“It’ll take more than that to gain our trust back.” Todoroki said, shuffling back inside. The last three in the front yard was Kirishima, Katsuki and Izuku.

“I just…I’m sorry.” Kirishima said. “But Todoroki’s right, it’ll take more than that to get us to trust you again.” Kirishima smiled a bit, showing off his razor sharp teeth. “But it’s for sure a fucking good start.”

Izuku was the first to speak after a moment of silence, “Maybe we should head inside now.”

“Not yet. I have to talk to you.” Katsuki said to Izuku. “Alone. It’ll only take a second.” Kirishima smirked and patted Katsuki on the shoulder before heading inside. He and Izuku stood there, looking at each other. “You saw me leave, didn’t you, nerd?”

Izuku blushed. “It was actually Todoroki who saw you. Kacchan, we all thought—,” he stopped himself.

“Thought what?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku inhaled deeply and shook his head. “Kacchan, I’ve known you for so long. You’re really kind of arrogant and really stubborn when it comes to getting your way—,”

“Wow, what an explanation—,” Katsuki started, but Izuku yelled at him.

“I’m not fucking done, Kacchan.” Katsuki closed his mouth and gestured for Izuku to continue. “You’re stubborn. You’ve always been so confident, knowing exactly what you want and not letting anyone get in your way. But lately, it just seems like you’ve just lost it. We all, every one of us, have tried to talk to you, but you just won’t. And it’s different than before. It’s like the old you isn’t there anymore.” He paused before saying, “We thought you wanted to kill yourself. So, we went after you, but were stopped and it turned ugly. But then we explained what was going on, but by then it was kind of too late. You’d been arrested. People were posting up pictures and tagging all of us. The one of you at the nightclub and when Kirishima saw that the girl from the licensing exam was there, he shut down. We were so worried about you.” Another pause before he said, “I was really worried about you.”

Katsuki wanted to open his mouth to tell Izuku. To tell him how much he actually meant to him. That he didn’t and never deserved him. He wanted nothing more than to run up and kiss him all over his body. His heart pounded loudly in his chest. “Deku, I have to tell you something.” Izuku’s eyebrows shot up, indicating to Katsuki he was listening. Katsuki opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know where to start or even how to begin to describe how he was feeling or why he was self-destructing. He just wanted Izuku to love him too. Say it, coward! “I can’t!”

Izuku became confused. “You can’t what?”

“Fuck.” Katsuki cursed. He covered his face with his hands for a moment, trying to wipe away all the disgrace that he felt. “Deku, I just—,” He looked around. They were still outside and the night was getting cold. Katsuki could see Izuku’s nipples poking through his tank top. He thought for a moment about his fantasy of Izuku licking his fingers and playing with them. Katsuki’s hands almost ignited instantly, but he grabbed his own arms stopping his quirk from getting out of hand, so to speak. He leaned forward, towards Izuku, whispering, “Not here.” he whispered and started walking inside. “You coming, nerd?”

Izuku followed him inside. The few people who were still awake and in the common area not saying a word to either of them as they both got onto the elevator. They said nothing and the light, sort of upbeat elevator music broke the silence between them. They got off on Katsuki’s floor and before Izuku could say no, Katsuki told him, “Come with me.” He walked down the hall and stopped at his door. He took a deep breath and unlocked it, inviting Izuku inside.

It was dark in the room, but the sunrise lit up from underneath the curtains. “You should probably put that on.” Izuku said. Put something on? Katsuki looked at what Izuku gestured too and it was the ankle bracelet. He picked it up and held it for a moment before Izuku said, “It’s kind of tricky, let me help.” Out of muscle memory, Katsuki took a step back, but then stopped himself. He held it out for Izuku to take and Izuku got on one knee and wrapped it around Katsuki’s ankle. Katsuki wanted to reach out, tangle his hair in his hands. He felt his dick start to get hard just thinking about the two of them being in the same room together. Izuku fumbled with it for about a minute before it made a click sound. “There.” he said, jumping back up. “Now you’re stuck with us!”

“Stuck with you.” Katsuki told him and Izuku giggled. Katsuki smiled too at the sound of Izuku’s laugh.

“You said you wanted to tell me something.” Izuku said, biting his lower lip. Katsuki gestured for him to sit on the bed and when he did, Katsuki sat down next to him.

Once again, silence filled the room. Occasionally, Katsuki would try to say something, but his mouth would close shut again. The two of them sat there calmly. Something felt so right about having Izuku in the room with him. A few times, he told himself to just kiss him, but thought the better of it after the events of today.

“Deku, there’s something you need to know,” Katsuki said, trying to look away from him, but Izuku’s eyes glowed in the dark. He made a sort of mhm sound. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Hot tears from the heat of his quirk filled the back of Katsuki’s eyes. Izuku reached out and touched Katsuki’s shoulder. The look on Izuku’s face wasn’t anger or frustration, but gentle with a subtle smile. They sat like that for a good minute before Izuku pulled on the tank top and Katsuki leaned forward. He wanted to lean forward to kiss him, to have their lips brush each other’s in a warm embrace. But after the evens of today, he thought the better of it. He put his head in the crook of Izuku’s neck deciding it would be better to wait until he was in the right head space. Izuku didn’t quite smell as nice as he did before—he smelled like musk and dirt, and a whole lot of outside, but Katsuki kind of liked it. They sat like that for a little while longer, and as the sun crept in beneath the curtains, Katsuki closed his eyes, not realizing how tired he was after today. Upon seeing that, Izuku laid down and Katsuki placed his head on his chest. Izuku winced a little in pain and Katsuki looked at all the scratches Izuku had on his arms for the first time. He couldn’t imagine how they must’ve felt, thinking that Katsuki would just end it all. For a moment, he pictured what it would be like to not have Izuku around, but he grabbed Izuku tighter at the thought. Izuku held him, lightly running his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, Katsuki trying to mimic the rise and fall of Izuku’s breathing. He placed an arm around Izuku’s abdomen and closely listened to rhythmic sound of his heart beating. They laid there, just holding each other until Katsuki finally opened his mouth and whispered, “Deku…”

But Izuku shook his head. “Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

At that, Katsuki drifted into a deep sleep.

(previous)(next)

[projectsoleil]

NOW STREAMING... MOON ROVER ADVENTURES S5EP18: THE SUNRISE FINALE | GABRIELLE MORNINGSTAR | CHAPTER 3 EXECUTION

Gabi finds himself in the arms of a couple people as the votes finish being counted, as his fate is decided. The hugs are returned as tightly as possible, clutching with every ounce of strength left in him, until the other person is shaking with him. When they pull away, he whispers thanks. 

(Being held is only reminding him of the arms of the few he wants nothing more than to be in right now—face buried in Abe's shoulder, hidden against his chest with his lips pressed to the crown of his head; the soothing touch of Pheo's damaged hands through his curls, soft whispers of assurance; the swirling heat of a hearth and the unwavering, unshaking, protective embrace of Gale. Gabi rubs the heel of his hand over the tears burning down his cheeks instead, head down, and casts his gaze to—)

(—Hawk?)

Hawk crashes to the floor in an awful thump, convulsing on the ground while Tyr’s expression remains one that wasn’t joy at the situation, rather, dread at what was coming next. From Hawk, their attention went to Gabi, who's pupils were shrunk, trembling.

[Mr. Morningstar...it’s time...]

Tyr approaches Gabi slowly and offers their nub to him, though instead of taking it, the young man scoops Tyr up into his arms, holding him like one would a toddler or cat. For another hug, or in hopes to keep him from shooting at anyone else? From AI-T's podium, Rover suddenly goes rigid, and looking more robot-like than he ever has, turns and starts walking stiffly towards them. The redheaded bot stops once they get to the usual spot by the wall, and Gabi turns to look at him momentarily. A hand is lifted, and albeit shaky, presses against the center of the star on Rover's chest. The door in the wall pulls open, and as they turn back to give the room one last look, Fenrir, who has been silently waiting, shoves his phone against Maxwell's chest, then along with Galehaut, jumps to attention—bolting towards them.

"Fuck all that! Fuck all this!" Galehaut shouts. "When I said on our own terms, I meant it! Moon, I'm not gonna let them—!"

As they quickly approach, Tyr offers a small apology to the one that held them in his arms...

[I am sorry, Mr. Morningstar.]

They raise their nub, and like with Hawk, out launches a small pod shaped object that latches onto both of them and sends a powerful shock through their bodies. 

Ah—Gabi grips Tyr tightly to his chest and makes a terrible, strangled sound as the two join Hawk on the floor. His gaze rips from them to stare wide-eyed and glossy at the rest of the room. He shakes his head a few times, backing up, backing up. Lips parted, like he's trying to say something, but his voice never reaches them—Rover steps between Gabi and the rest of you, obscuring the smaller body from view. The bot looks over his shoulder and gives the room an empty, dark, protective look, before the door slams shut, taking them away. 

A minute passes...two...three...until finally the screen lights up with the single message:

PLEASE ENJOY THE PRESENTATION WE HAVE PREPARED

before fading back to black.

[TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF BEING BEATEN, GORE] 

…

The lights dim, casting your cohort into a spill of long stretching shadows. There's a brief silence that follows, until a familiar, cheery theme song begins to chime through the room, growing in volume as the television screen flickers to life.

♫♪ i can reach all the stars in the sky with you by my side! ♪♫

The obnoxious tune of children singing is accompanied with a cartoon music video of what looks like a television show—shooting stars fall across the screen in a sparkly transition effect, opening up to the robot you’ve all grown familiar with over the course of the last month, cartoonified and walking around the moon to the beat of the song. 

♫♪ and if we don't make it today, we'll try, try, try again another day! ♪♫

He's decked out in his hero suit, grinning ear to ear at the audience, and begins leaping from the moon to another planet. It plays in this sort of loop, with Moon Rover marching on rotating planets, waving at passing cartoon versions of.. well, you! He passes by Fenrir and gives him two high-fives, Snapshot he hip-checks, waving at Zero Sum and Oleander on a water-themed planet, Angel they clang a wine glass with...

♫♪ so let's shoot for the stars, and hang out on the moon, and together we'll be anything, anything, anything we've ever wanted to be! ♪♫

It ends with Moon Rover landing on the Earth, joining the rest of the show's cast. Heroes and villains in dramatic poses, making up your full group, including Collin and Ivo hovering by the sides of the screen. 

Well... it includes everyone but one.

We zoom in on the cartoon Rover, who winks at the audience and gestures to follow him, before turning around into a transition. When the scene returns, we're joined with the real Rover, standing in what looks like the middle of the foyer of a massive house. He grins bright, wide, and opens his arms up to the viewers. 

“HEYY, STAR TROOP! ‘m so glad y’were able to tune in today!" 

He places his hands on his hips, leaning forward into the camera. 

“Y’ready for today’s mission? T’day we got somethin’ a little different — we’re takin’ a trip back t’my childhood home! Keheh—betcha thought I lived in a rocket, yeah? Nope! I came from a house, just like yours!” 

The hero beams at the audience and takes a step back, allowing the camera to sweep over the area better: yeah, he is in a foyer—the main entrance of a mansion—except, it’s as if someone has destroyed the place. Pictures are ripped from the wall, furniture toppled over--there’s areas that are just straight up blown up, holes broken through walls, the chandelier hanging slanted, too covered in char to glisten anymore, parts of the staircases caved in. Tire marks are burnt into the floor, the walls, the ceiling.   

There’s a 360 degree pan of the entrance, before it stops on Rover, where he’s gesturing to follow him again. He walks over broken wood and ash, until he gets to a form laying on the floor behind a fallen loveseat: bound at the wrists and ankles, Moon is trying to wiggle himself free.  

“Today we’ve got a suuuuper special guest!” He squats down next to Moon, grabbing a fistfull of his hair and pulling his head up off the floor. The boy winces, pieces of glass and dirt stuck into his cheeks. “The villain who hurt poor, poor Venus! An' subsequently hurt loads more through his choices! I already went ahead an' caught him, so, of course, all what's left is teachin' this no-good hooligan a lesson! Will you help me, Star Troop??"

There’s a blur of movement, and the binds on Moon’s hands and feet are cut—he immediately goes to scramble away, but with a simple step on the corner of his hoodie, he slams back to the ground. Nonchalantly, without hesitation or warning, Rover kicks Moon in the stomach—knocking him backwards in a cry.

Despite being kicked aside like a limp doll, Moon pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing, and begins crawling. Rover strolls slowly after him, easy and with a bounce to his step. When he reaches him, he bends down to grab the collar of his shirt, pick him up, and punch him directly in the jaw. It isn't pretty, the next seconds—if this were cinematic in any definition of the word, the moment would be done through silhouettes, the shadow of Rover pulling his arm back and bringing it down mercilessly into the smaller man's form, the ugly sounds of flesh being beaten being the only sense of how awful it is.

You don't get that pleasure. You see it all: no pretty cuts or dramatic angles to censor the boy's face splitting open, blood spilling up from fractured ribs into wet coughs, red splattering across Rover's hero costume. If anyone else was in his place, literally anyone else in the courtroom, this would be solved in an instant — a magma punch, a swipe of a sword, the crack of lightning, and this wouldn’t even be a fight. But Moon isn’t a hero. Not in the super-deep, metaphoric sort of way, but just that: Moon was a civilian. 

He’s dropped to the ground in a gross crack, whining, but moving regardless. He scrambles to his feet this time, using the help of a chair thrown on its side. He runs. He isn’t fast, especially now with his hand clutched to his chest, wheezing, but he runs… not to the front door like you’d expect, but deeper into the mansion. Rover walks behind him, chatting to the audience, you suppose, but now you’re following Moon. 

A door is flug open, and he staggers into a huge workshop. For someone who is frequently found scrawling on his arms to organize roaring thoughts and ideas, the place is surprisingly spotless, orgazined: filled with tools and kilns and forges and anvils. Computer software you know costs millions just by the sight. The young man’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and he makes a bee-line for the back wall full of displayed gear. A weapon? Is he looking for something to use? He grabs a pair of gauntlets first, something similar to Galehaut’s color scheme, before throwing them on the ground. A pair of yellow lense goggles—no. A botched looking race car—no. A pair of motorized wheelies—no. Equipment, equipment, equipment! He didn’t make weapons! He didn’t— 

“Found ya!” 

—whack!— 

Something whizzes past Moon’s head, smacking his hand away from the wall in the process. He turns around, and a small, helicopter-like birdbot is hovering in the air in front of him. Moon blinks, and then the bird shoots forward, whacking him a few more times in the head. It looks less like it hurts, and more like it’s just a distraction. The boy stumbles to the side, tripping over a small dogbot waddling by his feet. He crashes into the wall, and an array of different gear topples over.

It’s more pathetic than tragic, watching his own work fall on his head. He collapses under the weight, but ever-stubborn, ever-determined, ever-unbreakable, Moon whines and pushes his way out, tries to get to his feet once, fails, twice, fails again, and on the third—

—on the third, a red hand snaps forward and grips his throat, pulls him free, and dangles him up into the air, grinning widely. 

“Didn’t think y’could run, didja? Y’know, people want y’blood! They voted for it! Y’think I could let down the Star Troop now?? After how badly ya did?? They need someone they can trust, afterall!”

Moon grips Rover’s forearm with both his hands, clawing weakly at his gloves. The tips of his toes can just barely reach the pile of gear beneath him, so he’s at the very least got a bit of footing. Not that it matters—it’s no use, of course it’s no use—Moon reaches out to push at his bot’s face, push him away, do anything, anything— ah, wait? No.. he’s.. 

With a trembling hand, Moon sinks three of his fingers into the back of Rover’s head, prompting a hatch to pull away and open up in his chest, exposing a variety of wires and a pinpad. Rover doesn’t seem concerned, just keeps on holding Moon by the neck, even as the blonde starts fumbling a code in the pad.

He's dying. A small red button opens up between all the switches and buttons in Rover’s chest, and Moon's frantic, desperate reaching for the button slows down considerably. Really, it's kind of anti-climatic for a death, nevermind a supposed fantastical execution. Maybe that was what Moon deserved, though — something quiet, uneventful, alone. 

Click! 

...Just kidding! He presses the button. Rover’s grip falls away immediately, dropping Moon in a heap on the floor and leaving him doubled over, gasping and coughing, gulping down air like he'd been drowning. In front of him, Rover’s expression seems frozen, and his body begins… going limp? No, no.. it almost looks like he’s.. shutting down? A second later, Rover has joined Moon on his knees in front of him, his smile frozen, his shoulders slumping, his right eye flashing red. His right eye flashing red.. slowly. 

“...keh..” 

There is hardly any distance between the two, but when Moon pushes himself up and wraps his arms around his robot, hooking his chin on his shoulder, the effort looks akin to dragging your hands down a wall of glass shards. 

“...’bout.. time we wrapped this up, huh?” His voice would’ve been impossible to hear had this not been meant for entertainment — hoarse, whisper-quiet.

The sentence seems to, somehow, despite the red light increasing in speed, prompt a corrupt, laggy voice to start speaking: “..S-S-SHOOT FOR THE STARS—!” 

“—even.. if y’miss..” 

Moon grabs fistfulls of the back of Rover’s suit, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“..you’ll land on the—!”

…

…

[♫♪♫♪♫♪] 

The screen blacks out, rattling — the sound from the speakers blowing out from sheer force of the explosion. You… you feel like you should feel it in the courtroom—the floor shaking and rumbling beneath you, but you don’t. Somehow, it makes it feel more empty. More far away. 

As the scene settles, the dust and smoke beginning to clear, you notice blood splattered on the lense of the camera—blurred and out of focus, but unmistakably blood. Debris and metal parts are scattered everywhere, wires twisted and still burning like lit fuses. Something drips from the ceiling, and you're unsure if it's blood or a combination of that and flesh. But more importantly, you see the remains of a human body — the parts you'd never want to see; splintered bone, limbs still stuck in clothes, a head in the corner of the scene, blonde hair smoking, lulling on the slanted floor, and what you catch sight of his face is burnt through to the inside of his mouth, burnt through to his skull.

He looks like he was screaming, and though you know he wasn't in his last moments, this image will likely be the thing you remember when you think of him.

...

Life is continuous. 

Tonight, the sky will finish clearing the storm and the moon will glow across the horizon like it has every other night, and how it will continue to shine for every other night after this. For nothing has really changed—and that's the bonus of playing a stage hero robot that could be replicated, right? Built on? Upgraded? For years and years and years to come, beyond your short life, he can still do something amazing without you. 

Yeah, the world will keep going on without you. 

You wanted that.

(Didn't you?) 

[Gabrielle & Rover Morningstar have been executed.] 

(thank you han for the art!)

[writingpaperghost]

I Would Offer it Happy With a Smile on My Face (Chapter 9)

Chapter 9: You’re Power Comes From Kindness, That’s What Makes You a Hero!

A Kaiju that no one recognizes shows up and Grigio struggles to fight it, even with her new power to summon Kaijus to aid her. Then a strange man shows up and ultimately aids her in calming the Kaiju.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860734/chapters/61163701

Sometimes, Asahi worried. Okay, scratch that, she worried a lot. Because she could only do so much. Because Grigio could only do so much. Honestly, at this point, she was just lucky that her Grigio Bind would hold long enough for the Kaijus to get moved to somewhere they could be contained. It seemed that whatever caused them to rampage wore off after a few days. At least, that’s what KPaRs told everyone and it wasn’t like she was in any position to think they were lying about it.

But there were still things that worried her. What if her bind didn’t last long enough? What if, there came a day where she couldn’t weaken a Kaiju enough for the binding to actually work at all? Even with her new found ability to summon Kaiju’s to fight alongside her, there was still a possibility that it wouldn’t be enough. She’d seen that there were things stronger than even Grigio Regina - memories of when she tried to help her brothers and Geed come to mind, though she supposed that could also have been a result of both her unfamiliarity with Regina and her ineptitude at fighting.

Besides, she could tell that this Regina that she could summon, it wasn’t as strong as what she witnessed when Saki used it. The reasoning for that she wasn’t sure, it could be anything from the fact that no one was really controlling it to she was simply weaker, thus making Regina weaker. She didn’t really have a way of knowing. And she hadn’t had a chance to use Bemstar’s Crystal yet, there hadn’t been a Kaiju attack yet, something she was happy about because it hadn’t even been a week.

Which reminded her of the other thing she was worried about. She’d been in Kurokita for about a month and a half and she still had pretty much no clue why she was there or how to get back... So she was pretty worried about that too. Not to mention the knowledge that her family was probably worried sick about her...

She... Well, unsurprisingly, she missed her family. She missed Katsumi’s constant annoyance at how their dad kept making more and more ridiculous shirt designs that no one would buy. She missed Isami rambling on and on about whatever his newest project was. She missed their dad and his goofiness and their mom and how much she just adored all of them. She missed knowing that if anything happened her brothers would be there for her. Even when they were out of the country, she knew that if she was in trouble they’d drop everything to help her the second they found out. She missed... She missed knowing that between the three of them everything would be fine.

She thought about how her brothers would react to finding out she could summon Kaiju to help her now. She could imagine the looks on their faces, really she couldn’t wait to see them for real! And Isami would probably try to figure out why it only suddenly happened instead of being something she could always do. 

Asahi probably would have spent much more time thinking and letting herself worry, had the TV, which at this point was always playing with the volume low on the news, caught her attention. Another Kaiju attack.

Tomomi looks over at the TV, squinting at the screen, “I’ve... Never seen that Kaiju before.”

Asahi looks at him surprised, usually, Tomomi at least recognized a Kaiju. “Really?” She asked.

He frowns, “It reminds me a bit of a Litra, but not quite,” He looks to her, “Be careful, we really don’t know what it might do.”

“Of course!”

When Grigio arrives, she has a quick moment to take in the monster. It was mostly blue, with some more tan areas and what appeared like a tuft of red hair on the top of it’s head. It had a beak, lending even more to it’s birdlike appearance as well as claws. As soon as she finishes examining the Kaiju, though, it notices her. Like many Kaiju she’s fought, when it sees her, it wastes no time in focusing in on her. She would still very much like to know why that happens.

The Kaiju roared, though it reminded Grigio more of a squawk or caw, and lifted itself off the ground, flying towards her. Though it remained low to the ground, Grigio wasn’t sure how to dodge it, since she didn’t want get hit by it. She settled on jumping over it. Once she landed, she decided it was time to use her new ability.

She takes out the Bemstar Crystal, figuring it would be best to get and feel for him. She places it into her Gyro, pushing the handles inward, “Color our bonds with your power!” She thought it was fitting call. From the Gyro a let flies, taking the form of Bemstar beside her.

The Kaiju she was fighting had landed and turned around, now facing them. At the it’s beak a blue light began to form, which Grigio had learned from fighting Bemstar meant she should put a barrier up, so she did. From the Kaiju’s beak, a beam fired, hitting the barrier. She was glad her barriers were strong.

Bemstar roared and began to charge his own attack from his horn. While he did that, Grigio summoned her bow and prepared to shoot the Kaiju, but was startled by the Kaiju running towards her and slashing with it’s claws.She hadn’t expected that, causing her to lose her balance and fall. Before the Kaiju could do more, it was shot by Bemstar’s blast, making it stumble back.

The Kaiju shot another beam, this time directed at Bemstar, but Grigio wasn’t worried. Much like he did when they fought, the second mouth on Bemstar’s stomach opened up, swallowing up the beam. The Kaiju marched towards him, swinging it’s claws at him. Bemstar managed to fire another blast before the Kaiju swung it’s claws at him. Before the Kaiju’s attack could land, Bemstar disappeared in a ball of light.

The Kaiju was as shocked as Grigio was. Where did Bemstar go? It hadn’t actually gotten hit... so maybe it had a time limit, like she did? The Kaiju wasn’t distracted for long, though, and she decided that she’d worry about Bemstar later. She manages to fire a Grigio Shot at the Kaiju, which it more or less shrugged off, before it got to her and swung it’s claws again.

Grigio recognized that she was in a horrible position right now. She was knocked to the ground again, her color timer was beeping now, and there was nothing left to distract the Kajiu from her - Grigio really didn’t have time to try to summon Regina - she had no way of stopping the Kaiju’s attack. It quickly fired another beam from it’s mouth, giving her only the time to try to protect her head. 

When the attack hit, she felt the pain from the attack, but she also felt the pain from hitting the ground, no longer as Grigio. Beside her, her Gyro and the Grigio Crystal clattered to the ground. Asahi groaned, opening her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the Kaiju, which looked around for a moment - even looking right at her - before making what she thought was a sad sound. Then, it disappeared in a dark, shadowy, fog. That was weird...

The next thing she noticed, was the pain she was in. She took a look at herself in the process of trying to stand up. She winced, definitely feeling pain in her arms and her side where the Kaiju’s claws had hit her. Rolling up her sleeves she finds cuts, most definitely from the Kaiju, with similar one’s underneath her cardigan and blouse on her side. While they thankfully weren’t bleeding too much, she knew she’d need to get some bandages on them.

Well, at least she knew that Tomomi had plenty at home.

---

“Are you alright?” Tomomi already had bandages and disinfectant ready when she got back. She’d managed to avoid most people’s eyes, since very few people had returned into that part of the city. Still, Asahi was pretty sure she looked like she’d lost a fight in a rock quarry. Which was partially correct.

“As it turns out,” Asahi groaned, “That Kaiju’s claws are really sharp.” Tomomi sits her down and she pulls her cardigan off, letting him began to clean and bandage the cuts on her arms. 

Tomomi hummed, “I did some additional research while you were gone, but I can’t find any record of that Kaiju existing. By what I’ve heard from the news, KPaRS is just as confused.” He frowns slightly, “They think it’s either been hidden or it came from off of Earth.”

“I’d like to know why it just... disappeared like that,” Asahi said, “After it beat me...”

“That’s a good question too,” Tomomi nods, then changes the subject as he moves to the other arm. “Bemstar just disappeared there.”

She nods, “I think that he might only be able to stay around for a limited amount of time, like how I can only stay as Grigio for so long.” She shrugs, “But I’m not exactly sure. Guess we’d have to time it to see.”

The cut on her side is being cleaned and bandaged now, “How do you plan to defeat that Kaiju if it shows up again?”

Asahi sighs, “I don’t know...” That Kaiju just seemed to be too strong for her and something just didn’t feel right. But she didn’t know what.

Tomomi looked at her for a moment before giving her a small smile, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “You’re an Ultrawoman. Everyone believes that you will.”

Asahi just wished it was as simple as just belief and hope. Sure those were important, but she had to figure out how to calm down a Kaiju that was just too strong. And she was certain there was something aiding that Kaiju. Somehow, someway.

---

Asahi wasn’t sure how, but she found herself back in the part of the city that she’d fought the Kaiju in. There were a few places that would need reconstruction, but a lot of the area was simply evacuated for safety. So she walked around, no real purpose in mind. She had a smile on her face as she looked around, finding herself in a park. Despite the smile, there was still uneasiness in her. And worry. She knew that if the Kaiju showed up again, she wouldn’t have any way to beat it.

Across the way, outside the part, there was a screen playing the news. The newscaster spoke about the fight earlier, noting how Grigio seemed to be greatly over powered by the Kaiju. Asahi supposed she could try to use Regina against the Kaiju, since she was pretty sure that Regina would be stronger than Bemstar. The screen showed a video, focusing on the Kaiju.

“Lidorias isn’t usually all that violent of a Kaiju, you know.” Asahi jumped slightly, turning around to see the source of the comment. There was a man with brown hair, dressed in a blue jacket. He was watching the video of the fight.

“Lidorias?” She asked, “You know what that Kaiju is?” No one else seemed to know, making it very strange that this man did.

The man turns to look at her, giving her a smile, “I’m very close with a family of Lidorias back at my home.” He explained, “Though I’m curious why this one is so... angry.”

“Angry?” Asahi thought about the man’s words, “Wait a second, but there’s no record of this Kaiju existing on this Earth!”

The man examines her. She certainly looked much better than she had when she’d arrived at Tomomi’s apartment earlier. She’d changed clothes, her jacket hiding the bandages on her arms, though the ends of them peek under her sleeves.

“I never said home was here,”

If it wasn’t here, than were was it? Could it be another Earth? Maybe, she supposed, though that made her wonder why the man was here, if that were the case. “Well,” She said, “What do you think would be the best way to... to calm down the - the Lidorias? You said it seemed angry?”

“I suppose you need a way that could calm any Kaiju,” The man didn’t offer anything about what that way is, but he did continue, “And she seems quite angry. But it doesn’t seem like someone’s just bugged her, though she is very far from home. It seems like someone is forcing her to be angry.”

“But how could someone just force her to be angry?” Asahi just couldn’t understand that. Well, she’d seen someone just lose all hope, and she’s seen Ultra’s lose control. But she didn’t know how something - or as this man put it someone - could just make a Kaiju just... angry.

But the man doesn’t offer an answer, just watches the screen and the video of Lidorias, his lips twitching into a frown. Asahi watched him, several questions running through her mind. Who was this man? Where did he come from?

“Do you think that she can calm Lidorias?” The man asked suddenly, turning to look at Asahi once more. She was somewhat startled by his abrupt question.

“Who?”

“The Ultrawoman,” The man clarified and Asahi thought it was odd that he didn’t just say Grigio.

“Grigio?” Asahi thinks, because this question is made so much harder by it being asked to her. Does she think she can calm Lidorias? Before, when fighting Kaiju’s, she just tired it and tied it up, letting it calm down with time. But would that work with a Kaiju that her attacks don’t seem to be all that effective on? Probably not. 

“I...” And as much as Asahi wants to say yes, as much as she wants to place confidence in Grigio, she can’t. Because if it had been anyone else she was being asked about , she’d say yes. Had it been her brothers or Zero or any of the Ultras they’d worked with, they probably could. But she wasn’t sure that she could. She had no real plan, no way of even calming the sweetest of Kaiju. A Pigmon could throw a tantrum and she wouldn’t be able to calm it down! So as much as Asahi wanted to say she could, she knew it would be a lie. Not just to the man, but to herself as well. 

“I don’t...” But she couldn’t say it. Because somehow, giving up the hope that she could, was so much more painful than the frown on her face. It was easier for her to not be happy, to frown so openly, than it was for her to fully admit defeat. “I don’t know...”

The man tilts his head, undoubtedly noticing her hesitation. Then he smiles at her, “An Ultra has two powers at their disposal,” He said, looking towards the screen, though it no longer display the fight and had long moved on to other news.

“Their kindness,” He said, “And their strength.”

“Kindness and strength? But anyone can be kind and anyone can be strong.” She’s tentative when she talks, because this man, whoever he is, is no ordinary man. She hadn’t realize right away, but she knew now. “What makes them special for an Ultra?”

“They’re not, really.” And from the way the man looked at her, Asahi could just tell he was sincere, “The kindness and strength of an Ultra are no different than that of a humans.”

But the man hadn’t really answered her question, “But why are they an Ultra’s power, then?”

And when the man responds he has a smile on his face. A genuine smile that makes her think he knows precisely who he’s talking to. “An Ultra is often in the position to use those powers differently. When fighting a Kaiju, they have two options. To treat them with kindness, to spare them after the fight, or with strength. To destroy them.” The man looks away, towards the sky for a moment before continuing. “Sometimes though, that choice isn’t there. Sometimes you have to use force. Not everyone is willing to change their ways and only wish ill will to others.” Something tells Asahi that he’s speaking from experience.

“Well,” She manages to say, though it’s quiet, “Do you think Grigio may be able to calm Lidorias?”

The man doesn’t hesitate when responding, “Yes, but I don’t believe she will be able to do it alone. Not yet.”

“Alone? What do you mean?” The man doesn’t respond, instead turning to walk away. “Hey! Who are you?”

The man turns around and smiles when he responds, “Musashi Haruno, it’s nice to meet you, Ultrawoman Grigio.”

What.

How did the man, Musashi, know that she was Grigio? Did he know the entire time? Like really know and not just a hunch? Was that why he chose to talk to her.

“How-” Asahi would have loved to ask even one of her myriad of questions, but then there was a shake and a thud. Looking up, she saw that Lidorias had returned. Then she noticed Musashi. He’d taken out some kind of small pill like item. And something in her head clicked.

Musashi knew she was an Ultra because he was an Ultra.

She wasted no time pulling out her Gyro and Crystal, Musashi’s words just moments before making so much more sense. There was a Kaiju to deal with, and while she wasn’t really sure how, she was certain things would work out. “Color me with your power, Grigio!”

Beside her, Musashi called out, “Cosmos!” Which pretty much telling Asahi who he was. Since it was pretty much a given for an Ultra to in some way call out their name when transforming...

When the light clears, Grigio takes a moment to look at the Ultra beside her. Silver and blue, which surprised her. Other than her brother, she’d never seen an Ultra that had just blue as their base form. 

Lidorias though, once again wasn’t in the mood to give her much time to follow what was happening. Quickly she thought about what he’d said before, about how someone was making Lidorais angry like this. She wasn’t sure who it could be, but something told her that whatever was causing it was probably whatever was causing the other Kaijus to freak out.

At Lidorias’ beak, much as before, an energy began to glow. Okay, she was going to fire her beam, so Grigio quickly summoned a barrier. As the beam crashed into it, she turned to the Ultra beside her, Cosmos, “Please tell me you a plan, because getting beat up again would not be very happy.”

Cosmos looks at her for a brief moment and gives her a nod, then turns back to Lidorias. “I can calm her down, once I do that, I can take her back home.” Okay, that’s great. A plan and- wait. Take her back home?

Lidorias’ squawk makes Grigio decide she’ll worry about that later. She prepares to summon another barrier when out of the corner of her eye, she notices Cosmos, moving his arms until he finishes with a palm outstretched. There’s a light gathered, that when pushed by his palm moves, not particularly fast nor particularly slow, towards Lidorias. When the light touches her, her squawks and caws began to quiet and lessen. The dark shadowy thing that had appeared when Lidorias came and went was being seemingly pushed out of her. By the time all the light had gone to her, Lidorias had seemed to calm down entirely, the shadow nowhere to be seen. 

Grigio stared in disbelief for a moment. Just one technique and Lidorias, who had been rampaging and violent and angry before, was completely calm. She was hesitant to even believe it, until she watched as Cosmos walked toward Lidorias, placing a hand on her beak. The sound Lidorias made was what seemed to be of affection, but Grigio certainly was no expert.

“Well,” She managed to say, “I’m... I’m glad you were at least able to calm her down.” She was pretty sure this whole thing didn’t even count as a fight, It was honestly amazing, to her at least, that Cosmos could so easily calm down a Kaiju, even when there was apparently something making said Kaiju be angry like that.

“You - you said that you can - can take her back home? Are you and her from the same place?” There was a lot about Cosmos - about Musashi - that didn’t quite add up. 

Cosmos gave - what she was pretty sure counted as a smile, “A portal appeared and seemed to have sucked her up, from out home. I followed her to make sure she was okay, only to see her standing in the city, attacking, and then fighting you.” He gives Lidorias a soothing rub on the head, “I knew something was wrong. Lidorias, they’re a very peaceful species, they very rarely attack. And she knows how to recognize an Ultra, so she wouldn’t have started attacking you unless provoked.”

Grigio watches how Lidorias nuzzles her beak into Cosmos’ hand, and somehow she can’t even find it in herself to be particularly annoyed. Of course, being annoyed meant not being happy, and really, this was a great time to be happy! Despite everything else running through her mind, one of the greatest of which was curiosity about not just Cosmos, but also who brought Lidorias here, and who made her so upset. But she pushed those aside for a moment a smiled,

“Well I’m happy! Because she’s all calmed down and no one had to get hurt.” She says it, but she’s still feeling some pain from the cuts from her previous fight with Lidorias. “Well no one other than myself, but that’ll heal.” She rubs her arm slightly, where she knew there would be bandages if she wasn’t in Ultra form.

Lidorias let out a cheerful cry and walked over to her. Grigio stiffened slightly, before Lidorias just nuzzled her neck. Grigio laughed, giving the Kaiju some pets, stopping when she pulled away. 

Cosmos smiled, “I think we should get going,”

“Of course!” Grigio beamed, “But thank you for your help! I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up!”

As the two turn to leave, she waves at them, “It was wonderful to meet you, Lidorias, Cosmos!” And Cosmos gives her a wave goodbye while Lidorias squawks, which she decided to take as a goodbye. Cosmos took off, flying through the sky, with Lidorias following right after. Grigio watched as they flew away, one way or another returning to their home. It made her wonder, though, where was their home? They could never have been on this Earth, at least not very long or in a very public place, if no one knew of Ultras when she came here or had seen Lidorias before.

Soon they were out of sight Grigio returned to Asahi, happy that it had been so simply to stop Lidorias. But a part of her was still worried, because what if something like that happened again. A Kaiju too strong for her to defeat, even with her Kaiju’s help. There was no guarantee that there would be another Ultra like Cosmos there to help.

She looks up, only to see a small glowing light coming towards her. It wasn’t very big, really, but it was coming at her seemingly quickly. Asahi reaches her hand out, to try to catch the light. She was surprised when the light came directly to her hand, and she almost didn’t realize she had caught it. But then she realized what she was holding. It was round and bringing it so she could look at it revealed for sure what it was.

It was a Crystal, but not just any Crystal, not of a Kaiju like before with Bemstar. It was blue, and depicted on it was an Ultra. It was Cosmos.

Okay, that was strange. She’d never... She’d never used the Ultra Crystals before. She knew they existed, her brothers used six of them for their forms and she remember Saki mentioning them. But she’d never really seen any of them before, other than the elemental ones. She wondered if she could  even use this Crystal. Because she’d never tried using any of her brothers’ Crystals.

Did that mean that this one had an element to it too? Or was that just exclusive to the six her brothers had? If not an element, then what did this Crystal do? As she continued walking back to Tomomi’s apartment, she put the Crystal in her pocket. It seemed she’d just have to try it out next time a Kaiju attacked.

[aethryos]

Scionic Cycle Series Intro - Entire PPT presentation

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon:  Life – Plot Basics

[Image: Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon

AEthryos (logo) 

AEthryos.com]

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon book series

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Life [image of cover]

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Death [image of cover]  

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Rebirth [image of cover]  

Available on Amazon.com for Kindle or paperback

[AEthryos Logo]

About the Author - AEthryos

Asexual, Aromantic, Agender Author and Artist  

Graphic Designer  

Volunteer with PFLAG  

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Inspiration

5 years ago the thought in my head was “What if the Avatar was trans?”

Wrote fanfiction about the next Avatar

Started with trans woman main character

Where are the trans men in pop culture? MC is now a trans man

Possible because Korrasami is canon

Narrative choices

I wanted characters like the people around me

Lots of queer people

I am surrounded by trans/non-binary people, queer people, autistic people, asexual people

I really wanted to show that we are people with wants, needs, hopes, and desires

It’s a fantasy story, not a queer story

[image of the Scionic Cycle globe]

Contemporary, Urban, Fantasy Inspired by Avatar: the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra

1940’s-50’s tech

Primarily in cities

Magic users

Martial arts based

Not wands, staves, staffs or books

4 types of elemental qi [magic]

Earth, Fire, Air, Water

If a person has magic, they only have 1 of these types

the Scion (the chosen one)

Scion has access to all the magic

Reincarnation of previous Scion

Switches between elements every life

[image: drawing of globe, enlarged with location names]

Scionic Cycle: Characters – Scion Wan Yamazaki

1 of 2 main characters

Cisgender, heterosexual male

18 years-old

Original Element: Fire

Conflagration citizen

He is a celebrity

Body type

Medium height

Sinewy muscles

Japanese

Japanese Bruce Lee

[image of a slide with info above. collage of: Tony Stark, arms wide, with text- Keep Calm Cause I Am the Chosen One, Aang from Avatar the Last Airbender with fire behind him, Bruce Lee, Japanese Flag]

Scionic Cycle: Characters –  Dr. Tupilek of the Imaq Tribe of the North 

Cisgender, heterosexual male (You can’t have just 1, otherwise it’s tokenism)

25 years-old

Element: Water qi

Specialization: combining healing qi and blood qi

At forefront of new medical knowledge

From North Pole, Imaq Tribe

Body type

Medium height

“Dad bod”

Inuit

[Image collage: 2 Inuit people in the snow wearing parkas, Dr. James Makokis in an office, Staff of Hermes, open hand with water floating over it, Flag of Nunavut.

[drawing of a dark skin man with a toque, glasses, blue bow tie, and blue polo shirt

[photo: Anthony Johnson and James Makokis are an Indigenous, two-spirit couple won The Amazing Race Canada (Sept. 11, 2019)]

Scionic Cycle: Characters – Ayya Aloma 

Butch lesbian with a crimson mohawk

Mid 30’s?

Element: Air qi

High ranking monk in the Zephyrs

Tibetan monks

World peace keepers with quasi-military

Mayor of the Village

Small neighborhood in Attla City

Self-made, safe space for LGBTQ+ individuals

Advocate for queer rights within city

Body type

Medium height

Thin body from flying

Tibetan

[collage: woman with red mohawk, Tibetan monk, person flying in a full body wing suit, Tibetan flag, Philly pride flag, Lesbian flag - orange to pink

[drawing: dark skin woman with red hair in a mohawk smiling and holding up peace sign in front of the lesbian flag]

Scionic Cycle: Characters – Noble Zifen, a.k.a. Fen 

Autistic, demisexual, genderqueer person.

They/them pronouns

Inspiration – Genderqueer Nicola Tesla

17 years-old

Element: Electricity

Subtype of fire

Has no fire qi, only electricity

Inventor

Born in Conflagration. Now lives in the Village

Body type

Medium height

Japanese

[image collage: background is the  ENIAC  computer, man with prosthetic arm holding a drill, grant imahara, nicola tesla, japanese flag, rainbow infinity symbol with “autism acceptance” written overtop, genderqueer flag, demisexual flag

[drawing of a light skin person with glasses wearing overalls and yellow shirt in front of nonbinary flag]

Scionic Cycle: Characters – Sun Ching 

Asexual, gender non-conforming woman

18 years-old

No qi

So fascinated by qi that she dedicated her life to learning the martial arts of the elements

Master of Earth qi martial arts

Proficient at Fire and Air

Former citizen of city-state Yaosai Jin

Body type

Short, stout

Thick muscular body

Biracial: Chinese and Indian

Binds her chest

Magical world = magical binders (author note: don’t bind and exercise)

[collage: martial artist posing with bo staff, Becky Lynch of WWE holding arms out wide with text “Come at me bro,” Indian Olympian  Mary Kom   flexing with right hand out in victory, Indian Olympian  Karnam Malleswari lifting weights, China/India flags, man wearing binder, asexual flag]

Wait, you are missing the trans character. Where is he?

Scionic Cycle: Characters – Kun Ching

Asexual, transgender man

18 years-old

Light Scion - All the qi

So fascinated by qi that he dedicated his life to learning the martial arts of the elements

Master of Earth qi martial arts

Proficient at Fire and Air

Former citizen of city-state Yaosai Jin

Body type

Short, stout

Thick muscular body

Biracial: Chinese and Indian

Binds his chest

Magical world = magical binders (author note: don’t bind and exercise)

Kun is a trans man.

In denial of his gender identity in the first book

The first book doesn’t bring up his dysphoria directly.

Second book subplot is him reconciling his gender identity.

Third book - his coming out

[collage: martial artist posing with bo staff, Becky Lynch of WWE  holding arms out wide with text “Come at me bro,” Indian Olympian  Mary  Kom   flexing with right hand out in victory, Indian Olympian  Karnam  Malleswari lifting weights, China/India flags, man wearing binder,  asexual flag

drawing: dark skin man with bandage on right cheek, wearing an open, green button down, shirt and a green shirt underneath, in front of transgender flag and wearing asexual button]

Scionic Cycle: Secondary Characters – Chetana of the Zephyrs & Bao of Deserete 

Chetana

Military Police with the Zephyrs

Element: Air

Bisexual

Indian

Bao

Percussionist in Qi Stones

Element: Earth

Bisexual

Chinese

[drawing: Chetana -dark skin woman in red sleeveless shirt holding peace sign and in front of the Philly pride flag and bisexual pin on shirt

drawing: Bao -dark skin woman with green hair, wearing green shirt and black vest, in front of bisexual flag and wearing Philly pride pin]

Scionic Cycle: Main Cast & Relationships 

Here is our main cast: Wan, Tupilek, Aloma, Fen, Kun, Chetana, and Bao

Relationships: Kun and Fen, Aloma and Bao, Tupilek and Chetana

[main cast images: previous drawings of Wan, Tupilek, Aloma, Fen, Kun, Chetana, and Bao

[relationship images: previous drawings in pairs: Kun and Fen,  Aloma and Bao, Tupilek and Chetana]

Scionic Cycle: Dual Protagonists – Wan and Kun 

Set up as yin and yang to each other.

Wan privileged. Kun has worked for everything

Wan is the Scion. Kun wishes he had qi

Wan is flashy and charismatic. Kun is gruff and calculating

Wan is naive. Kun is worldly

Equal in overall strength and skills

Kun is the Light Scion, Wan is the Dark Scion

Unintentional pop culture equivalents

Superman (Wan) and Batman (Kun)

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon:  Life – Plot Basics 

Fantasy Murder Mystery

Wan and Sun are both sent to the South Pole to learn water qi.

There Wan gets mind controlled

Find who did the mind control and why

Themes

Horrors of mind control

Respect

Humility

Friendship

LGBTQ

[image: Book cover -silhouette of a head in profile with a lightning bolt running up their neck, person standing holding a bo staff, also in silhouette, on yellow background. Title on top: Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Life, author name, AEthryos, on bottom left]

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon:  Death – Plot Basics 

Fantasy Spy Thriller

One year has passed since the climax of Life

New info from the climax

Who was behind the Big Bad of Life

Why the mind control?

Themes

PTSD

Depression and suicide

Biological Families

Found Family

Abuse

Kun’s Trans Identity

[image: book cover -three-sided pyramid with shadow to left, color washed out beige, title: Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Death]

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon:  Rebirth – Plot Basics 

Heroes Journey/Corruption

Happens immediately after the climax of Death

Themes

PTSD

Healng from Trauma

Kun’s coming out story where he struggles— and he’s done.

Kun’s heroes journey where he learns to unlock his potential

Wan’s abuse and how it makes him do horrible things

Light Scion and the Dark Scion

Love, romantic and brotherly

[image: book cover -yin/yang style emblem with light green face on left side and dark red face on right on a beige background, title: Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Rebirth, AEthryos logo on bottom right]

Scionic Cycle: Quick Stats 

Life is Small Gods (Terry Pratchett) long at 82,000+ words

2 total rewrites [3 versions total], 3 major edit changes in V3

22 Chapters

Average 3,700 words/chapter

Death is Good Omens (Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman) long at 106,000+ words

3 total rewrites [4 versions total], 4 major edits of V4

31 chapters

Average 3,400 words/chapter

Rebirth is Small Gods (Terry Pratchett) long at 86,000+ words

2 total rewrites [3 versions total], 3 major edits of V3

33 chapters

Average 2,700 words/chapter

Original names: Avatar, Student, Water, Air, Fire (Wan, Kun, Tupilek, Aloma, Fen)

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon book series

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Life [image of cover]

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Death [image of cover]  

Scionic Cycle: A New Aeon: Rebirth [image of cover]  

Available on Amazon.com for Kindle or paperback

[goingoverthegardenwall]

Chapter 6: Lullaby in Frogland

Let’s look back. Way back. Back before the dawn of animation, before the dawn of film, well before Ruby or Spears or Disney or Iwerks or either Fleischer Brother. Back to 1835, in a town named Florida in a state named Missouri when a boy named Samuel was born.

Like Ub Iwerks, Sam was raised in Missouri. And like Max Fleischer, Sam’s family took a financial hit when his father’s work stopped (this time due to a premature death rather than the decline of tailory), giving Sam a practical approach to employment. He left school at age eleven to become a printer’s apprentice, then moved to his older brother’s newspaper as a typesetter and occasional columnist, writing humorous articles and drawing cartoons. But unlike Beatrix Potter or the animators we’ve covered, visual art wasn’t in the cards for Sam.

He moved to the East Coast to work for other papers, bouncing between cities before returning to the midwest to embark on a career he’d dreamed of since he was old enough to dream: piloting a steamboat. He thrived on the water, and kept writing about his work along the river, but everything stopped when the Civil War closed off the Mississippi. So Sam headed west to work for the same brother who once ran the newspaper, now a politician in Nevada (I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that this brother was for some reason named Orion). Sam tried mining, and it didn’t take, but he’d gotten pretty good at writing and set off for San Francisco to get back into his jocular brand of journalism. 

It was here that he had his first success, a short story published in his paper called Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog. But, like a certain frog we’ve covered in this series, Sam wasn’t huge on permanent names. Within a month, the story was reprinted as The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, and Jim Smiley’s name was changed to Jim Greeley. Until the book version came out, when it was changed back to Jim Smiley. And this whole time, within the story, it’s a mystery whether Jim’s real name is actually Leonidas (it turns out that it isn’t, but it might be). None of this should come as a surprise for Samuel Clemens, who wrote under the names of Josh, Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass, and most famously, Mark Twain.

“I knew you were special.”

Over the Garden Wall is, among other things, a story about the importance of solid communication. After five episodes spent building up our heroes as a group of friends, all it takes is one episode of terrible communication to throw it all away. The specific issues vary, despite leading to a similar result of not verbalizing their thoughts very well: Greg’s youth stops him from articulating his rapidly changing ideas, Wirt’s anxiety leaves him too timid to speak up or too rambling to be clear, Beatrice’s true intentions make her obfuscate the truth, and Jason Funderburker straight-up can’t talk. Or so we think.

This time he’s named for American statesmen George Washington and Benjamin Franklin, which fits the continuing vintage Americana vibe of the series—while I figure it’s a coincidence, it should be noted that Mark Twain’s Jumping Frog was named after American statesman Daniel Webster. Surrounded by other frogs that walk around and wear fancy garb, our frog is more anthropomorphic than ever, standing on his hind legs and dancing along with Greg. But it’s still a shock to hear him open his mouth and sing, a shock that soon cedes to the realization that the frog playing the piano at the beginning of the series is singing the Jack Jones song in the montage that follows.

Lullaby in Frogland is Jason Funderburker’s episode through and through, so much so that it’s the first time we hear of his namesake, Jason Funderberker. This is an episode where Wirt rejects Greg’s assertion that their frog is “our frog,” a plot point that’s paid off in their last conversation in the series. This is an episode where Greg wonders aloud if he can be a hero, sees the frog set off on a diverging path immediately afterwards, and accepts it, because he’s willing to sacrifice his happiness for the good of others. And it’s an episode where the frog returns after a harrowing betrayal, showing that even when all seems lost, there’s still room for hope. Over the Garden Wall (the song) might not sound like a traditional lullaby, but it soothes us into a cold night as the sun sets on the first half of Over the Garden Wall (the show).

Adelaide’s true nature is foreshadowed by Beatrice’s sudden hesitance to bring the brothers to the pasture after several episodes of nagging, but the twist is made tragic by Wirt finally letting his guard down enough to be happy. He sings a completed Adelaide Parade with Greg and joins the dance before collapsing into the most earnest laughter I’ve ever heard in a cartoon. He’s a good enough friend to notice when Beatrice is “uncharacteristically wistful,” and takes a risk by playing the bassoon instead of just giving up. He’s still got growing to do—it’s one thing to blame Greg for getting them in trouble by throwing away the ferry fare and forcing them to sneak aboard, but another thing to literally shout “Take him, not me!” when confronted by the frog fuzz—so it’s clear that his journey isn’t over yet, but he doesn’t even get a full episode of peace before everything blows up.

The whole steamboat sequence flows between simple delights, like saluting the captain mid-chase, the revelation that the frogs love music more than they hate trespassers, and the repeated gags of three gentlemen frogs snatching up flying flies and a frog mother dropping her tadpoles. Everything just feels calm, even when antics are afoot. Wirt gets to save the day with his bassooning, Greg gets to feel rewarded in his knowledge that his frog is special, Jason gets to sing a song after being silent throughout the series, and Beatrice seems, for now, to come to a sort of peace about things after several clear attempts to sidetrack the boys. This is the only episode to feature two major stories instead of one, but the steamer segment is rich enough to feel like a full episode. If only we could’ve stopped here.

All roads lead to Twain when it comes to depictions of steamboats as a go-to American icon, which is why he preceded this discussion of Lullaby in Frogland: I’m not claiming Mickey Mouse wouldn’t have been successful if his first cartoon was about something else, but I’m certainly claiming that we wouldn’t have gotten Steamboat Willie as it was if Ub Iwerks hadn’t grown up in a Missouri whose lore was shaped by Twain’s tales of the river. But while the author is the root of the episode’s many influences, I think the most fascinating branch that we borrow from is The Princess and the Frog. 

2009 was a great year for animation, seeing the release of Coraline, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Secret of Kells, the surprisingly great Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, and the first ten minutes of Up (also the rest of Up, if I’m feeling generous). The first two on that list are my favorite of the year, twin stop-motion masterpieces that I’m always in the mood to watch, but The Princess and the Frog is a brilliant last gasp from Disney’s 2D animation studio. It isn’t the final traditionally animated film they made (that would be 2011′s Winnie the Pooh), nor the final fully sincere princess movie they made (that would be 2010′s Tangled), but it marks the beginning of the end for both trends: for better and worse, modern Disney animation feels the need to loudly subvert old tropes and wouldn’t be caught dead in two dimensions.

Lullaby in Frogland’s connection to The Princess and the Frog is certainly visible on the surface level: both feature a long sequence starring frogs on a steamboat where a lead character must pretend to be another animal and play a woodwind instrument to get out of a jam, and both involve our heroes seeking help from a wise woman far from civilization (even if only one of these women is actually helpful). But it’s the somber nostalgia factor that binds these stories closer than anything, the knowledge that this is the end of the road for this type of tale. The ferry’s gotta land somewhere, and the cold is setting in as the frogs begin hibernating for the winter, but there’s still more story to tell.

The second story of Lullaby in Frogland is scored throughout by a haunting string and piano rendition of Adelaide Parade, and Adelaide herself is immediately captivating. John Cleese returns for the second episode in a row, but as both of these episodes aired the same night, it feels like a consistent through-line: in the first half, he’s an eccentric who might be a deranged maniac but is actually harmless, and now he’s a witch who might be harmless but is actually a deranged maniac.

Adelaide gets a compelling amount of detail for someone who’s barely in the show. We don’t get any explanation about her fatal weakness to...fresh air? Coldness in general? Either way, like the Wicked Witch of the West’s lethal reaction to water, it’s absurd that someone like her has managed to live this long. She never says what she needs a child servant for, why she has scissors that seem custom-made for Beatrice’s specific curse, or what her spider-like deal with yarn and wool is (she has a black widow hourglass on her back, but also reminds me of the Greek Fates with her emphasis on thread). We never find out how she’s connected to the Beast, whose theme bleeds into her music as she proclaims, without much prompting, that she follows his commands; her goal of using children as zombie slaves seems counter to his goal of turning them into trees to fuel his soul lantern. But this blend of unexplained characteristics and seemingly inconsistent motives only makes her more enthralling to me, because she feels like the major villain of another story who just happens to intersect with ours. 

What makes Adelaide even more compelling on rewatch is that her scissors, despite their gruesome method for curing the curse, do end up working. Which means she did mean to help Beatrice out as part of the deal. At no point does Adelaide lie, and given Beatrice knows she’s bad news as she lures the brothers in, it becomes clear that for all her villainy, Adelaide is an honest witch. I’m always down for baddies that tell the truth, but it’s of particular interest when we compare her to the Beast, whose whole deal is lying. 

The only liar in this episode is Beatrice, even if she wanted to set things straight without hurting anyone; she values her friendship with the boys so much now that she’d rather make herself a servant to Adelaide than just tell them she’s dangerous and reveal that she lied. By the time she’s willing to tell the truth, it’s too late, and not even saving Greg and Wirt by killing Adelaide is enough for Wirt to forgive her. Considering he knows in The Unknown that the scissors he uses to escape the yarn can save her family, he was also listening in on the end of the conversation before entering the house, which means he must have heard that she was willing to sacrifice herself, but that doesn’t matter either. Beatrice gave the boys hope, and no matter how badly she tried to stop it, the encounter with Adelaide transforms Wirt. Where he was once nervous and unsure, and was then briefly optimistic, he’s now sullen and untrusting.

But again, in comes Jason Funderburker, croaking and hopping on all fours once more to bring some light to the darkening series. He doesn’t do much for Wirt, but allows Greg to quickly get over whatever trauma he had about getting webbed up in yarn; he’s remarkably quiet about it, but it’s important to remember that he was betrayed, too. Whether he doesn’t understand exactly what happened or is just quicker to forgive, Greg is fine with Beatrice, allowing us to focus harder on Wirt’s reaction from now on.

It’s all rain and winter for Wirt until the end of his adventure. But the show isn’t content to leave him even slightly forlorn: when it gets too dark, he has a frog to swallow a lantern to light the way, and when it gets too cold, he has a brother to cover him in leaves, and when he falls, he has Beatrice to help pull him back up. Even the Woodsman tries to save him in his own way (talk about folks who are bad at communication). Bad things happen, and people make mistakes, but the bigger mistake is allowing that to close you off to others, or to never forgive friends that are genuinely sorry. Our heroes have taken the ferry to the other side, and now the story can shift to one about the folly of abandoning all hope.

Where have we come, and where shall we end?

On top of Jason Funderberker, who’s set up as a major rival to make his eventual reveal one of the show’s best jokes, Wirt gives Beatrice a general summary of Into the Unknown three episodes before we see it play out.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Three

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: Full quotes in italics indicate scenes set in the ‘past’

Not beta-read

Summary: That was how I found myself sitting at the end of the boys’ couch, with Steve cross-legged and leaning back against the arm on the other side, sketching my profile.

Warnings: None for this chapter I don’t think

Rating: T (this may change)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

“It would be impossible to exist then without some human connection, but you must be selective. Else—“

“Ripples. I know.”

“So you’ve always lived in Brooklyn?” Steve asked before adding, “don’t turn your head!”

I laughed, unable to help it as I turned to face forward again. I’d run into Bucky a couple more times. I swore it was by coincidence, though I felt like I asked Madge, she’d tell me that she’d passed on where we worked to him after I’d left that night. The first time had been by the alley again. The second had been on the train on the way home. He’d pointed that it was late, offered to walk me home.

Bucky was pleasant to talk to and less of a flirt than I’d thought he’d be. He’d invited me out to a couple of drinks with him and Steve, and when those apparently hadn’t ended in complete disaster, they asked me over for dinner. That was how I found myself sitting at the end of the boys’ couch, with Steve cross-legged and leaning back against the arm on the other side, sketching my profile.

I must’ve turned my head a bunch of times to look at him while we spoke. I managed to stop laughing, clearing my throat.

“Nah. Ma moved us here in ‘28.”

“Where from?”

“Arlington Heights. It’s near Chicago.”

It was hardly the first lie I’d told since my arrival; Brooklyn born and raised in my past, their future, but I couldn’t tell them. I had no one in the ‘40s, no ties to bind me to then and make my alibis anything but implausible.

“Why’d she bring you guys here?”

“We thought my dad was here.” The way I phrased that answer always stopped people from pressing further, and it worked with Steve, too.

“Your ma still live around here?” Bucky asked, I could feel him watching me and Steve from their small kitchen. I gave my head a small, single shake, and we all went quiet for a moment.

I swallowed thickly, lowering my eyes to my lap. For a former government agent whose family thought she worked in agriculture, I wasn’t the biggest fan of lying. A friend of mine had always told me that I was in the wrong business.

“How long have you worked at that ... place?” Bucky asked. I smiled a little.

“I’ve been at HCL for three years.”

“HCL? That what all you gals in the secretarial pool call it?” I fought the urge to turn my head as I heard Bucky draw closer. He added, “She allowed to turn her head, or are you still workin’?” Stevie made a grunt that I supposed meant, ‘it’s fine,’ because a moment later, Bucky was at the arm of the couch and murmuring, “Here, try.”

I turned my head to see Bucky holding out a wooden spoon with some sauce on it. I leaned in, taking a little taste before my eyes widened.

“I need that recipe,” I said, looking up at Bucky, “that’s delicious!” He grinned, straightening and heading back to the kitchen.

“Can I look yet?” I asked, scooching a little closer to Steve. He glanced over the top of his pad before he shook his head, mumbling, “not yet.”

“Don’t keep her waiting too long, Stevie,” Bucky chimed in from the kitchen. I leaned back against the couch, resting my elbow against the couch and propping my head up on it. Bucky had more ease in his kitchen that half of the men I knew in the 21st century.

“Can I help set the table at least?” I asked.

“What is it with you? You ever relax?” Bucky asked. I shook my head.

“Not really my thing. ‘Sides, I been sitting all day.”

“Let Steve finish up,” Bucky threw me a wink. I turned back to look at Steve, who seemed to be very focused on the sketch. I watched him quietly for a few moments. I grew up hearing stories about Steve Rogers the war hero, not Steve Rogers the artist. He glanced up at me, and seemed to be surprised to find me looking at him. I smiled as a light flush quickly spread from his ears to his cheeks. He ducked his head down, leaning in to focus more intently on the sketch. I sank further into their couch, yawning a little and closing my eyes for a moment, listening to the crackle of ‘Begin the Beguine’ on their record player.

———

“I’m cooking next time. S’only fair,” I said, looking between Bucky and Steve. Bucky waved me off.

“Long as you’re a guest here, you’re not doing any’a the cooking.”

“That’s not fair. Not that I’m saying I can rival your ma’s sauce recipe, but I’m pretty good.”

“You sure you don’t want any more dessert?” Steve asked. I shook my head.

“I’m stuffed. And it’s getting late, I should be heading home.”

“We’ll walk you,” Steve and Bucky said nearly at the same time, and I snorted, sitting up.

“You guys don’t have to, I’m not very far away,” I insisted. It turned into a light argument that I lost.

I walked home between them, all our hands tucked into our pockets, as if the each of us was deeply unsure of the other. I bid them goodnight, pressing light kisses to each of their cheeks and clutching the sketch Steve had done of me as I returned to my room.

——-

The problem was that I genuinely liked being around Steve and Bucky. They were sweet, polite, funny. But they were too close to history. Hell, they were history. I had grown up down the block from where they’d once lived; the apartment building had a plaque at the front saying that that was where Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes had lived before the war.

It wasn’t wise of me to be anywhere near them for any reason— I’d been warned repeatedly of ripples, affecting the future. But some small, stupid part of me figured that as long as I didn’t change either of them going to war, everything would be as it was.

And that was the part that I listened to.

———-

2012

“What’s going on?” Maria Hill rounded the control panel, watching as the technician’s fingers frantically flew over the keys.

“The surge sending her out knocked out half of the facility’s power.”

“What about the generators?”

“We’re trying to get them back online.” Hill didn’t like the waver if the tech’s voice as he said that.

“Keep working at it. Coulson, radio with any updates,” She said before turning on her heel and leaving the lab. Director Fury would not be happy to hear this.

Tag list:  @aactuaaltraash; @secretagentben

[thewhumpstuff]

You and I, Me and You [4]

@badthingshappenbingo​ [Original characters and content for Blindfolded]

[Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] (You and I, Me and you: Chapter 5)

[<– Previous] ~ [Next –>]

Can’t you see?

When he said change in scenery, he meant darkness for her. The cloth hung in front of her like a hammock, tethered to Jared’s clenched fists. She began shaking her head with a vehemence. Pipes. Lights. Camera. Boxes blurred into streaks behind the looming threat of the dark cloth. It remained in front of her stubbornly. He didn’t force things. He didn’t need to. They both knew the drill.   “You know better than to waste your energy on pointless resistance, Akira.” He was still right behind her, but his voice sounded distant. Maybe because he called her Akira and not Shira.  She balked at the mere thought of pleading with him over this, as though even considering it made her weak. She really wasn’t fond of blindfolds. Her body curled forward against the binds. She sighed and grudgingly conceded. Not out of obedience, but because he was right. He pulled the fabric against her eyes; it had enough length to be looped around her head a few times before the ends were knotted. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He joked wryly.

~~~ “I don’t know! Three-four…? It’s too tight.” Her whining was playful, and it wasn’t loose, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was efficient. She contorted her face, to make some wiggle room. Crinkled her nose, raised her eyebrows and clenched her eyelids tighter… Just to try make some wiggle room. “Stop trying to get out of it!” He chided. She giggled. He waved his hand in front of her, to check if her ventures had succeeded. “Five! Stop waving at me, I cannot see… I can feel it though.”

He held her by her arms, guiding her off the couch and out of her room. The door closed behind them. The main corridor was cooler than the rooms. She tried to keep tabs on small details, like the change in the incline of the floor under them, the sounds of their footsteps. Unfortunately, spatial perception was not her strongest suit. So, as they coiled through the building, she could not really map their trajectory in her mind.  

“Where are we going?” “You say you love surprises, but really, you don’t. You want to know everything.” “That’s not true!” That was absolutely true. Both those things were.

Her very fibre was woven out of contradictions. She knew this and Jared accepted it. He worried that the surprise wouldn’t be enough. It was too simple. He could only hope the effort counted for something. He never celebrated birthdays. It was an alien, archaic concept, and had only resurfaced recently. The other Biohackers sure seemed obsessed with it, with a vehemence. Akira was a budding biohacker, it mattered to her, so he did his best to make it matter to him. He opened the door and Aki could feel the trapped bodily heat as the door closed behind them. Even before the soft whispers and scuffling feet pricked her ears. And well before the chorus of “SURPRISE”

She beamed and played her part. “You guys! Thank you!” Various voices overlapped eagerly, to offer Jared credit. The gathering meant a lot to her, but she realised that it must have taken sincere effort to put together. The schedules of the special-ops squads and the biohackers were unusually difficult to coordinate. “It was more Nova really, I just… Had to get you from point A to point B.” Nova dismissed his words, and her hands replaced Jared’s as Akira was ushered deeper into the room.

Jared clung to the corners. He was heralded a hero, but there were still those who had not forgiven him. Incidental victims of the heinous crimes against humanity he had to commit in the line of duty.   Most regarded him with cold, wary admiration. Rightfully so. He had long since befriended his loneliness. So, he did not budge, despite Akira’s plaintive non-verbal beckons. She gave up eventually and was soon lost in the throes of the party.

Frivolities and laughter commenced. Even he was not immune to the fervent joy of the moment.   Exhausted and slightly tipsy, she tiptoed her way back to him, she pressed her head to his chest and he habitually locked his arm around her. He tipped her chin upwards, they stood forehead to forehead, gently swaying to the music. ♩… Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things, I like…♩

She smirked, and batted her eyelids playfully. Her grin was infectious. It was just them again. “You want something more, don’t you?” His question was more to confirm what he could already see. Jared caught that glint in her eye. Something that let him know that while she loved the people and the party, she was ready to be just them again. She was indeed in a mood to be his again. The blindfold and theatrics had left her yearning for more than just a surprise, something private, something just for them. She quickly confirmed as much,   “So much more and so many more things. I missed you.”

He could tell that she wished for him to have enjoyed the party less vicariously, but she did not press the issue. Her lips split wider to reveal rows of imperfectly perfect teeth. A peal of soft, giggles chimed in the air between them. She was so unabashed about her insatiability. Jared shook his head with a soft sigh. Would anything ever be enough? But he felt indulgent. He plucked out the blindfold from his pocket. “Trust me to take you back the way I got you here, then?” Her eyes darted between him and the cloth with a delectable anticipation. She nodded.

Unfortunately, their plans were interrupted. It was so rarely that she got to see Jared without the curtain of his usual brooding, she should have known it could not last long. Jared noticed Scarlett approach with Mark at her heels. The woman bore bad news, he could tell. Additionally, she did not seem happy about having to track down her agents. “Just a second.” The party did not deserve whatever bombshell Scarlett was about to drop, not like this. He took the lead on interrupting her. Maybe he could filter the news, soften the blow if it was too urgent and had to be shared immediately.  

Akira’s eyes dazedly followed his steps as he left the room and continued to through the glass panels that lined the hall until they lead up to the older duo. Scarlett’s fire-stormy tresses, her regal form contrasted so sharply with the paler, seemingly meeker Mark. She always marvelled at the contrast between the duo. She noticed something was wrong only when she saw Jared’s form betray signs of exasperation; hands in his hair, deep exhales that left his unusually upright stance, slightly bowed.   She was compelled to follow suit. So, she crept out. The party had not noticed Jared’s absence, or the looming presence of their leaders, hopefully they wouldn’t miss her either.

“What’s going on?” “Shir- Akira, go back inside. I’ll just be a min-” Scarlett and Mark exchanged pleasant looks. Jared stood in stark contrast. “Actually, there is something we’d like to run by you, Akira.” It was Mark who cut Jared off, in a quiet voice. The kind that no one is compelled to interrupt. “The Quantum Brigade took over another operation centre. We think it is time to retaliate.” “We don’t have the numbers,” Jared interjected, hopelessly. He rarely cared for arguments. But he knew where this was leading.   Mark looked at him with a clinical curiosity as he and Scarlett continued laying the crumbs for Akira. She thought they simply wanted to test her on the obvious. “You’ll are infiltrators. You will infiltrate, correct?” Akira barely associated herself with the Spectral Syndicate. The infiltrators were a special class of their own. She knew she was underqualified. Scarlet pinned Akira with a dryly enticing gaze. “Correct.”

Jared didn’t like the look Scarlett had in her eye. The look of a recruiter. No, not today. “It has come to our attention, that they’ve got feelers out for Biohackers trainees. They seem to be lacking in that department.” “I’ll do it!” Mark offered a bemused chuckle. They were so right about her. “You’re not even qualified,” Jared said with a hurtful arrogance. He hoped it would deter Akira, but she was lost in the heady trance of an adventurous future. “Exactly,” the two women said, in unison. Mark nodded and then slunk away in the shadows. Scarlett lingered long enough to drive the offer home. “A chance to serve, is a truly wonderful gift. Happy twenty-first hun.” Her sultry voice raked Jared and it was music to Akira. Scarlett’s fingers found the cheek of her newest recruit. She patted encouragingly before sauntering away. Mark’s pace slowed so Scarlett may catch up and they could walk away in stride.

Jared’s Shira, now reeked of an eagerness he wished he could thwart. “It’s brilliant actually…” Subconsciously, they found themselves walking towards Akira’s room. He was glad she did not turn around to make any announcements to the others and that they could think things through privately. Her mind seemed made up already. “See, we’ll learn more about the focus of their training methods, when it comes to us Biohackers…”   The silence between them, which was usually comfortable, felt oppressive. Akira was taking it upon herself to fill it. “… I’m still training, I’ll learn more about their training methods.” His disapproval was palpable, and she attempted battling it with belligerence. He wanted her to stop. With every word she took away Jared’s chance at getting her to reconsider. “And since I’m not qualified yet, worst case scenario, I’m caught out. It’s not like we’d be losing much.”

Her words were not driven from a place of insecurities. Ironically, she felt too optimistic to colour things that way. It was a simple objective derivation, one that would have suited Jared’s usual line of logic perfectly, if this did not involve her. Disgruntled, he pocketed his hands and felt the sash and was reminded of its promise. Perhaps… “…What could go wrong?” She chirped. So much could go wrong. His hand tugged at her wrist, gently. He held up the sash in front of her face. Like a hammock of silken darkness. “Still up for this?” His question was tentative. She turned to look at him over her shoulder with exaggerated coyness. She winked and pressed her face into the fabric. His offer only enhanced the moment, it felt like a fitting end to a wonderful celebration.

~~~

She did not answer and instead licked her drying lips. He watched her for a moment, the flick of her tongue, a trait they shared when they needed to bolster their courage. He ducked to undo the ankle-binds. If she were to walk, she wasn’t to see… Nothing was given without a price. His fingers traced the raw lines left by the twine. He could not tell if it was out of fascination, or a practiced concern, he hoped the gesture exposed neither. The light pink lines graced her like temporarily tattooed anklets. Her legs jerked upwards involuntarily at the touch. The attention of his digits made her keenly aware of the itchy sear, uncomfortable, but bearable. He pulled away just in time to avoid getting kneed in the chin. She rubbed her ankles together and quickly got up.

“Someone’s eager,” he joked. “I guess I’ve finally learned to favour efficiency.”   Her voice was slowly losing the airy lightness. He knew and she knew why. “Arguable,” he retaliated, with a shrug. She had long since accepted that her tendency towards exploring distractions, naturally disrespected time, but it often drew attention to details that others missed. His jab hurt much lesser than it once would have. “So, it begins, huh?” Her voice did not sound as casual as her words. He took his place behind her; his guiding grip was unrelentingly tight. She grimaced and drew in a sharp breath as his fingers sunk into the groove of her biceps. “So, it begins. No funny business, okay?” There were reasons she hated blindfolds and she had a feeling that as her time as his captive swelled, she would find cause to relive more of them.

How far things had devolved. How trustingly she had let him guide her once and now there was hesitance in every step. He was forced to nudge her each time she felt something and paused on instinct. She’d always been sensitive to auditory and olfactory stimuli, she believed this was because her untamed soul grew up in the wild. When the sense of sight is stolen, one learns to quickly and keenly develop the others. Alas, she still was not spatially sound. She did realise that they never left the building, which meant that she could be in an establishment of some sort. Unless he was looping back to the same room, did that mean that there was more than one room here equipped in a manner that suited Jared’s course of action? He always had a plan.

[Guess its not really heavy on the whump content, but its still a bad thing. :)] [Category 3]