#Spike would’ve had such a more powerful story if he never actually got a soul at all

[the-crooked-library]

one of the reasons I really wish Spike never got his soul back is that his lack of one would’ve preserved his original story arc - which was that you don’t have to have a soul to do decent things. Goodness is hard work, mistakes, and perseverance, for fuck’s sake, Angel’s just Catholic

[vrishchikawrites]

Reverse transmigration wangxian where LWJ who cultivates to immortality found an old summoning array where mxy fails to summon wwx but the whole thing with JGY still got revealed. LWJ in his grief summons WWX in our modern world, and the rest is up to you :) Maybe get WWX some therapy and loving family and how different modern days people are

This one is a bit angsty and has vague descriptions of sex. Modern AU.

“The Tragedy of Wei Wuxian - The Man Behind the Legend”

Lan Wangji caresses the title of the book with a thumb, eyes tracing a name he has always held close to heart but hasn’t heard for a long time.

“We all know of Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian as Yiling Laozu. He’s one of the first to cultivate successfully with ‘resentful’ energy. His theories and papers helped us develop a greater understanding of yin energy, Qi deviation, and resentful spirits. He was a visionary, a man ahead of his time, someone who thought outside the box and looked for solutions instead of sticking to the norm. He’s also the first known person to donate his Golden Core.”

Wangji looks away for a moment, remembering Wen Ning’s snarling face and Jiang Wanyin’s rage, denial, and guilt.

“But we don’t talk about what brought that great visionary down. Society, as it did with many great thinkers, turned against him. In his youth, Wei Wuxian was one of the most accomplished cultivators of his generation. No one knows exactly what happened for him to develop the so-called ‘Ghostly Path’. His loss of the Golden Core may have been a factor, but the actual circumstances are shrouded in mystery.

What follows after the War of the Five Great Clans, known as the Sunshot Campaign, is nothing short of a tragedy. Wei Wuxian saw injustice happening and decided to fight against it. Society tore him up for it. At that time, all actions against him were justified and considered righteous. Those actions don’t stand up to scrutiny under the modern lens. Like all great and radical thinkers, Wei Wuxian ideals made him the enemy and that led to this tragic death, along with the murder of innocent war prisoners he sought to protect. There are unconfirmed reports of there being a child among the Wens.”

Wangji’s eyes flicker over to a picture frame sitting on his desk, an image of Sizhui and Jingyi smiling up at him through the glossy image. They’re well, he knows. Last he heard from them, they were in South Korea and having a great time.

Sizhui must not know of this book or he would’ve called immediately, always so concerned about his a’die.

“It was later revealed that hunger for power and political maneuvering led to his death. When we study the historical records, it is obvious that the man was pushed into the corner and was forced to retaliate. Unfortunately, no one cared about his fate-”

“I did,” Wangji whispered to himself, thinking back on silver eyes in an indistinct face. He loved - still loves Wei Ying - but the physical aspects of him have long since faded from his memory. He sometimes remembers Wei Ying’s laugh. Sometimes, he dreams of his smile. He doesn’t recall what Wei Ying sounded like, only remembering his tone when he said ‘Lan Zhan.’

And yet, Lan Wangji hasn’t forgotten love.

He reads the book in silence, going through all 375 pages of it without pausing to eat or sleep. It tells the story of Wei Ying in stark, blunt terms. There are a few facts missing or erroneous. He wasn’t the adopted child of the Jiangs. There was certainly no unrequited love between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli.

There’s very little mention of him. According to this book, Lan Wangji is a mere footnote in Wei Wuxian’s life; a childhood acquaintance, a disapproving comrade, and later a man who unraveled the truth because he pursued justice.

“He was just 23 years old when he died,” Wangji lingers over that statement, “23-year-olds are barely adults. They hold the promise of a bright future. They have so much potential inside of them. At 23, some people graduate from college, some take up their first serious job. At 23, young people fall in love and maybe form a life-long bond. Wei Wuxian became a key player in a big conflict at 17, he donated his core at 17. At 17, we still have children in high school. Our seventeen-year-olds aren’t even allowed to drink or drive. Our seventeen-year-olds are still protected and sheltered by their parents.

That is perhaps the biggest tragedy of Wei Wuxian’s life. He was only allowed to live a carefree life for seven years, from the day he was taken off the streets to the day the YunmengJiang Sect was attacked. After that and until his death, his life was marked by war, strife, betrayal, and persecution.

A visionary, a hero, a brilliant mind, dead by what most would consider suicide.” Wangji’s breath hitches and he takes a moment to collect himself, the sentence ringing in his head.

“He deserved better.”

---

He deserved better, Wangji thinks as he walks sedately towards his library.

There had been a glimmer of hope, all those years ago when Mo Xuanyu attempted to resurrect Wei Ying, but when he failed to do so, Wangji felt something shatter in him.

Whatever Wei Ying had done had completely destroyed his soul. His precious, noble soul. One that was formed for justice and kindness.

He deserved better.

He knows what he must do.

---

An immortal’s Golden Core has immeasurable power. It is the result of several hundred years of Cultivation and diligence. Wangji is more powerful than most, having survived through war, strife, grief, and loss.

An immortal’s Golden Core can also be an ingredient.

‘Draw the talismans shown below in the blood of your heart. Pin them in eight directions, north, northwest, west, southwest, south, southeast, east, and northeast. Sit in the exact center of this circle and sacrifice half of your cultivation to the being you wish to summon.’’

Wangji’s heart and hands are steady as he draws the talismans from blood drawn directly from the artery. He pins them in all eight directions and sits down in the middle, his hands moving elegantly to summon his Qi. He breathes in and breathes out, sinking into meditation with habitual ease.

It will work.

It has to.

The room floods with Resentful Energy.

---

He deserves better.

Wangji feels torn apart in ways he has never experienced before. The ritual summoning carves something out of his chest and drags it away. His mouth floods with blood and his body weakens alarmingly.

But it doesn’t matter.

Wei Ying.

---

Wei Ying is more beautiful than Wangji remembers. He is bloodsoaked, covered in cuts and bruises, saturated with Resentful Energy, but he’s alive.

And he’s beautiful.

Wangji stumbles to his feet, shakily walking into the bathroom to fetch some warm water. He walks back, his arms feeling the weight of the bucket like they have never carried such weight before. With every step that he takes towards Wei Ying, his heartbeat spikes up a little. He doesn’t know if he chose the right time. He doesn’t know if Wei Ying’s spirit had shattered before his death and dying had just been the aftermath.

Maybe Wei Ying’s body is here and not his soul.

Wangji cannot bear thinking about it.

With weak, shaking hands and the taste of blood lingering in his mouth, he slowly reaches forward. Layer by layer, he removes Wei Ying’s clothes, his fingertips tingling because his beloved’s body is warm.

He deserves better.

With aching tenderness, he wipes Wei Ying clean, removes all blood, grime, and mud from his body.

Wei Ying doesn’t stir.

---

There’s a gentle touch against his cheek. It is strange enough to wake him up because few people dare touch Lan Wangji. Slender fingers tap once, twice, almost playfully and Wangji knows who it is even before he opens his eyes.

Like a sun emerging from the horizon, Wei Ying appears before him, his smile bright and questioning.

“Wei Ying,” He breathes and Wei Ying nods, eyes a sparkling silver. There is so much beauty in that face that he can’t help but reach forward. Ignoring Wei Ying’s surprise, he cups his face and leans forward pressing his forehead against his beloved’s.

Wei Ying is still for a long moment, but he moves eventually, setting hands on Wangji’s shoulder. He doesn’t push him away, just huffing in soft amusement.

“Wei Ying,” He whispers, closing his stinging eyes, “Forgive Wangji for his selfishness.” He says, “I summoned you.” I summoned you without asking, knowing you wouldn’t desire it.

Wei Ying huffs again and that’s when it strikes him.

He pulls back and looks at his beloved in concern, scanning his eyes, face, neck, and chest quickly, his heart racing.

Why wasn’t Wei Ying speaking?

---

“You’re right in suspecting that his spirit sustained some sort of injury even before he was… killed.” Lan Jingyi says softly, pulling away from the sleeping Wei Ying, “There’s nothing physically wrong with him, Hanguang-jun, please don’t worry! His spirit just needs a little bit of time to recover.”

Wangji nods gratefully as he watches Sizhui lean over Wei Ying, his expression full of wonder and desperate happiness. As Sizhui’s cultivation grew, he started remembering more things from his childhood. They have never spoken on the matter of Wei Ying, but Wangji knows his son remembers more than he did when he was a child.

“Now, please let me check you.”

He levels a sharp look at the younger man but Lan Jingyi is no longer the adoring and naive student Wangji taught all those years ago. He’s a strong, accomplished cultivator and an avid researcher.

Lan Jingyi ignores him cheerfully and checks his core, stepping into Wangji's personal space without a care.

He narrows his eyes at the steely glint in the boy's eyes.

"I know you love him, Hanguang-jun," Lan Jingyi says, "And love is worth a life." They're immortals, life has little meaning for people who have lived for centuries, "But I wonder if the Wei Wuxian that you so adore will be happy about you risking your life for him."

Wangji's eyes flicker towards Wei Ying, who looks exhausted even in his sleep. "He deserved better."

Lan Jingyi is silent for a moment before he speaks, "Sizhui and I read the book on our flight back. Everything was horrible, I'm not surprised that his spirit sustained so much damage. But it is almost entirely intact now. It shows how much he wants to live, Hanguang-jun."

It's a relief.

---

Wei Ying can't speak but his presence is still loud. He rests for a few weeks to recover from his injuries. During that time, Wangji spends most of his days moving from Wei Ying's bedside to the library and back again.

His beloved has an insatiable hunger for knowledge. He wants to know everything about the modern world.

Every morning, Wangji is confronted with a bright face with sparkling eyes waving a book or a scroll in his direction.

Wangji hasn't experienced such liveliness in centuries. The very air of his home glows with Wei Ying's vitality. Wei Ying's body recovers quickly and soon the man is out of bed and following Wangji around.

His heart feels too big for his chest.

By all appearances, Wei Ying is perfectly content. He walks around Cloud Recesses, visits Caiyi Town, and is happy to watch the sunset with Wangji every evening.

That had been Wangji's wish when he performed that summoning.

He wanted Wei Ying to have another chance to live free and happy.

Looking at him now, Wangji wants to reach out, cup that cheerful face, and pepper kisses all over it. He wants to kiss those fluttering eyelids, smooth cheeks, sharp jawline-

That soft, smiling mouth.

Wangji is an immortal. He has endless patience. He can wait for Wei Ying to come to him.

He must wait.

---

The modern world fascinates Wei Ying. His beloved looks at everything from tall buildings to food stalls with wide, stunned eyes. Cloud Recesses and Caiyi Town are still relatively untouched by the passage of time, but Wei Ying has free access to the internet and has learned how to use it within two months of his arrival.

Wangji doesn't restrain him.

He just watches as Wei Ying, his brilliant and enthusiastic love, learns to thrive in his new world.

His voice has still not returned but that doesn't seem to bother Wei Ying. He is delighted to learn that there's a way to communicate nonetheless.

He starts learning sign language and Lan Wangji, with patient and steady hands, practices with him.

---

Lan Sizhui follows Wei Ying around with quiet affection and aching tenderness. He's much older than Wei Ying now, but he remains their son in spirit. He treats Wei Ying like a senior, with respect and adoration.

His Wei Ying notices, of course. At first, he finds the situation quite strange but Wei Ying isn't stupid.

'Lan Zhan,' He asks, 'Who is Sizhui?'

Wangji brings his fingers up and replies, 'He's your a-Yuan. I went looking for you but found him instead.'

Wei Ying's eyes widen and he spins around, running out of the room to seek Sizhui.

Wangji follows sedately and when he finds his love and his son, they're embracing while crying tears of joy.

---

'Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!'

Wangji huffs under his breath and carefully sets his brush down, tucking the scroll away before turning to meet bright silver eyes.

Wei Ying leans forward with an eager expression, 'Do you know where Suibian is?'

Wangji nods, 'In storage. I was able to retrieve it from the Jin Clan.'

'Can I have it?'

Wangji rises smoothly to his feet and leads Wei Ying to storage where both Suibian and Chenqing.

Wei Ying only glances at Chenqing for a moment before reaching for Suibian with a desperate expression.

Suibian, a blade that has remained sealed since Jiang Wanyin unsheathed it once, easily reveals itself again.

Wei Ying spins around eagerly and looks at him with pleading eyes.

As Wangji is able to deny Wei Ying nothing, he reaches for Bichen and they immediately head for the training grounds.

It has been a long time since Wangji has really used Bichen to its full capacity. With half of his core pulsing within Wei Ying, they're almost evenly matched.

Wangji has not fought in ages but Wei Ying is still a Cultivator. The spar is fast-paced and thrilling. Wangji acquaints himself with Wei Ying as his love becomes reacquainted with his sword.

Wei Wuxian had been one of the best swordsmen of his generation. He has lost none of his elegance and skill. Wangji presses him and Wei Ying laughs soundlessly, twirling around him in white GusuLan robes, bright and joyful.

He breaks Wangji's heart and mends it at the same time.

---

Wangji has missed Wei Ying for hundreds of years.

He can't resist the urge to touch. He keeps it chaste and respectful but his hands have a mind of their own in Wei Ying's vicinity.

When they're out and about, Wangji guides Wei Ying with a hand on his back. It becomes natural to grasp his love's elbow if he wants Wei Ying's attention.

His touches can easily be dismissed as gestures of friendship by most. But Wei Ying knows him.

'er-gege,' Wei Ying's smile is sweet, 'Wei Ying is cold.'

Wangji's eyes flicker over to the lit fire briefly before landing on his love, 'Are you feeling well?' He asks in concern, reaching forward to place the back of his hand on Wei Ying's forehead.

His beloved laughs and nods, leaning into the touch with a sly smile, 'I'm well, just cold.'

Wangji feels a stir in his chest at the intent look in Wei Ying's eyes. Hesitantly, he cups Wei Ying's cheek in silent question.

Wei Ying nuzzles his palm, his eyelids fluttering close gently.

Desperation and elation flood him and Wangji sucks in a sharp breath. He moves in a blur, lifting Wei Ying off his seat and placing him on his lap.

Wei Ying gasps and giggles, his tall, strong body seeming to almost shrink as he cuddles close. Wangji wraps both arms around his love and squeezes him tight, rocking them gently as he is assaulted with painful love.

"Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying," He chants in Wei Ying's hair, holding him so close, it feels like there's no part of him not touching his love.

When Wei Ying turns to him with a smile in his eyes, Wangji doesn't hesitate to lean forward, bringing their lips together in a long-awaited kiss.

He presses Wei Ying back against the crook of his elbow and tastes his silent laugh on his tongue.

Wangji has never felt so blissful and complete.

---

Jingyi convinces Wei Ying to go to therapy.

Eager to learn and curious, Wei Ying agrees.

He returns from every session with a thoughtful expression.

Months pass but his voice is still lost.

---

They make love and Wei Ying mouths the words he wants to speak. He smiles, sobs, laughs, and pouts as Wangji takes him apart bit by bit.

Wangji has never known such pleasure. He loses himself, drowning in Wei Ying's scent and finding heaven in his body.

He enjoys feeling smooth skin. He sinks his fingers into Wei Ying's silken hair. He tastes the sharp edge of his jaw. He bites. He drives in and takes ownership of Wei Ying's pleasure.

He presses his mischievous sprite into their bed and doesn't hold back, centuries of love pouring out of him.

---

A combination of therapy and Wei Ying's natural approach to life makes his recovery quick. Within a year, he's well-adjusted and happy.

He laughs at almost everything. The first time they fly, the first time they visit an amusement park, the first time they go to an aquarium.

He laughs and Wangji starts noticing the color of his voice returning to it.

Wangji is grateful for what he has. He's grateful that Wei Ying is back, safe, and happy. He is grateful that Wei Ying is unharmed.

But he cannot lie to himself. He misses Wei Ying's voice.

---

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,"

Wangji almost misses it, as engrossed as he is. He presses in deep and feels a shiver of pleasure race down his spine. Wei Ying's fingers curl around Wangji's nape and his lips caress his ear.

"Lan Zhan,"

He stills.

Wangji takes a deep, bracing breath and pulls back a little, balancing on his arms to peer down at his lover.

Wei Ying is a vision. His cheeks flushed, his eyes wide and dark with passion, his lips bitten red from Wangji's kisses. His long hair is scattered and wild, a tangle of glossy strands across Wangji's pillow.

"Lan Zhan,"

Wei Ying's lips move and a voice accompanies that movement. It is slightly hoarse, somewhat weak, but it is still the voice he barely remembers.

Heat flares in him and he sinks deeper, pulling a sharp gasp from Wei Ying.

He spends the entire night filling their room with that precious voice.

---

Wei Ying doesn't ask questions. He doesn't ask why Wangji did what he did. He doesn't ask how he did it. His beloved has always been perspective and he understood Wangji's desperation from the moment he woke.

He reads the book that triggered it all and laughs, "Aiya, they make me out to be some sort of martyr for justice." He says fondly, for he is very fond of the modern world.

Sizhui is sitting at his feet, eyes closed in bliss as Wei Ying gently combs his hair, styling it into an intricate braid.

"They're not wrong, though." Jingyi can never sit straight and he has forgotten all of his Lan teachings over the years. He has his legs thrown over the arm of his chair and his head is dangling over another arm, his hair sweeping the floor as he nods.

Ridiculous.

"I never asked to be glorified in such a way." Wei Ying protests with a chuckle.

"Baba should be grateful no one knows about his resurrection." Sizhui pipes up, "At least, you don't have to deal with modern stans."

Wangji arches a brow at the word and Wei Ying laughs, already more accustomed to the Internet language than Wangji is. "Oh, heaven forbid!"

"But listen, you and Hanguang-jun have the greatest love story ever, you could write a book about it, Wei-quanbei!"

Wei Ying tilts his head to the side and Wangji urges him to consider it with a subtle nod. Wei Ying is happy but he's never content to be idle. The modern world doesn't need cultivation, but perhaps it can benefit from their stories.

---

‘Once you summon successfully, you belong to this being for all eternity as payment for the one wish they may grant. Half of your core will live within them. If they die, you die. If they live, you live. If they hurt, you hurt. If they become corrupt, you become corrupt.

You will sacrifice immortality, but not the eternal bond. Every time you are reincarnated into this world, you will be tethered to the being.

Beware.

Wangji tucks the scroll away, sealing it so that it is never discovered again.

He has no regrets.

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

[peach-pops]

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete) 

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ??? 

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day) 

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!” 

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE. 

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!” 

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”  

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.” 

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!” 

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!” 

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!” 

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is 

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you 

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!” 

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear 

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing) 

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular. 

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie 

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend 

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two 

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!” 

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool 

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play. 

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat 

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth 

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and  records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS 

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?” 

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!” 

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi 

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time 

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?” 

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?” 

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I- 

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set 

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy 

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl 

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-” 

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

 If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?” 

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?” 

“ BABE?!” 

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence 

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?” 

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?” 

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?” 

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

 honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it 

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that 

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you 

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!” 

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream 

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you 

[hargrove-mayfields]

You’ve Set my Soul to Dreaming Pt. 2

Billy can’t believe he’s doing this. 

Can’t believe that he’s pulled up outside of 8253 Loch Nora, a gift box in his passenger seat, unwrapped because that would look like he cared too much, a lit cigarette fogging up his windows, and a sense of dread settled heavy in his heart. 

Just because Harrington bought him the fanciest thing he’d ever had the pleasure to own didn’t mean he had to return the favor, right? 

Wrong. Because it wasn’t just your typical, ‘I’m loaded, and you’re dirt poor, so let me get you this novelty that costs more than you have in the bank because I'm better than you’ from Steve, but something more like a peace offering. 

A peace offering from the loser of the fight, which made Billy look like even bigger an asshole than he already was. 

Like, it was bad enough that he’d even beat Steve up in the first place, but then to just ignore his attempt at reconciliation and keep up the machismo shtick? Even he was better than that. 

So he’d fretted for a week about what a rich boy would want, and shoveled sidewalks for old people and flirtatious mothers to be able to afford it. Not that the Hargroves didn’t have enough money for a dinky little gift, Billy just wasn’t allowed to spend his father’s wages on anything less than necessity. 

Christmas presents for some boy definitely didn’t fall under that category. 

In the end he decides on giving him a flask, decorated with similar filigree to that on the zippo, only it’s much more cheaply made. He hopes the sentiment is still there, because he knows Steve can put alcohol away faster than you can say chemically dependent teenaged washup. After all, just a few nights ago at Jenny’s Christmas Party, he saw him drink a whole bottle of vodka in under a minute.

Besides, regardless of whether or not it’s something he needs or cares about or is just going to throw away, it’s just to get even, this isn’t some life changing gift exchange. No sweat. 

Maybe Billy has that all worked out in his head, but then he’s got another problem. He can’t decide on how the present is going to get to Steve. 

If he should just leave it on the porch and bolt, if he was going to ring the doorbell and hand it right to him, or if he would just drive right on down back to Cherry Lane and keep the stupid hip flask for himself, and pretend the whole thing never happened so he could move on with his life. 

He loses the chance to choose when the double doors to the house are pulled open, and the silhouette of the one and only Steve Harrington appears. 

It would be more than weird to drive away now when he was obviously already parked outside, and even weirder to just sit in his car until Steve goes back inside, so he sucks it up, grabs the box off his passenger seat, and steps out of the Camaro. 

Rounding the front of his car and taking a few steps toward the porch, Billy decides to toss Steve the box without so much as a muttered ‘heads up.’ They’ve been playing basketball together for two months now, and he knows from experience that Steve’s surprisingly good at dodging fists, so he’s pretty sure he’ll catch it. 

And he does, if not a little clumsily, with a stupid, shocked look on his face. Billy might even say he almost looks as dumb as the sweater he was wearing, which had a Christmas tree crocheted into the center and was at least fifty percent tinsel. 

If his head was screwed on straight, maybe Billy would’ve even said ‘Merry Christmas Steve, thanks for the beautiful fucking zippo I use it every day, sorry ‘bout the face’ but it wasn’t, so instead, what he said was actually more along the lines of, 

“Save your donations for the red kettle Harrington.” 

And then he thinks he’s out of the woods, thinks the lack of an answer is the symbol he needs to put this drama behind him and pick a new pretty boy to pick on, but just as he pops the Camaro’s door, Steve finally lets his response tumble out of his mouth. 

“Why don’t you come in, Hargrove?” Steve turns the box over and over in his hands, nervous as he tries to get out what he’s going to say. “Nobody’s home, and I made a bunch of cookies. Got some spiked eggnog too.” 

And, it wasn’t like Billy’d rather be back at his own house right now, that was actually the last place on earth he wanted to be, so he wasn’t beyond entertaining the notion. 

He isn’t easy though, he’s not the type to just, waltz on in to some McMansion looming over him just because he’d been asked so politely. Especially not when the circumstances of this specific circumstance were the way they were.

“Whatd’ya put in it, the eggnog?” It’s a stupid question, just a way to stall until he can come up with an excuse to go in the mansion by his accord, but the answer, well, it’s not much better. 

“Chicken Cock.” Steve says it with such an air of nonchalance that Billy isn’t sure he’s heard that right, but then again, the people down in the Midwest referred everything with weird nicknames that he’d never even heard of. What was puppy chow anyways?

He can tell there’s a bewildered look on his face, though it gets overtaken by a slightly humored smile as he asks. “‘Scuse me?” 

Blame it on the bitter cold if you please, but a flush appears on Steve’s cheeks at the realization of what his words might sound like to somebody who had no idea what he’s talking about. “I-It’s a spirit, it’s really strong and- why don’t you just come try it, yeah?” 

Its cute, but Billy needs one last attempt at casting out the line before he gives in and accepts Steve’s offer. “Real smooth, Harrington, but I gotta get back to the festivities at home.” 

“Sure, ‘cause you're totally the type for that.” Steve rolls his eyes in a sort of false annoyance before he starts on his mockery. “Bet you sing carols, and bake cookies with your little sister and tell stories of your favorite Christmas memories around the Yule log and-“

“Alright, Harrington. Since you asked so nicely.” He couldn’t keep saying no with Steve practically begging him to come inside, so, stepping up onto the stoop, Billy scrapes his boots against the porch rug to knock off the snow so he can go inside. “But I’m outta here by midnight, alright?” 

With a smile, Steve steps aside to let Billy through the door. “Deal.” 

Ornate woodworking and fancy wallpaper goes unnoticed, because the first thing Billy notices about the Harrington mansion is that it is an absolute disaster. although he would expect a cleaning lady to have come through and kept the place all nice and pristine like you see in the magazines, there was shit everywhere. 

Piles of bubble wrap and newspaper stuffed into plastic containers, wires and strings and tape all over, a power strips and thumbtacks, and suddenly Billy realizes something. 

“This your attempt at Yuletide cheer, Harrington?” 

For a moment he looks at Billy confused, but follows his line of sight to the heaping boxes of decorations scattered throughout his living space. “Oh, no, I just didn’t finish yet.” 

Billy can’t help it when he blurts out, “It’s Christmas Eve.” 

Steve nods dumbly, something that should at this point be his registered trademark. “Uh-huh.” 

“And all your decorations are in a pile in your living room?” Even Billy knew better than to wait until the last minute to get things done, and Harrington always seemed so on top of everything, regardless of if he was doing it right, so it was kind of jarring to see him in such a disheveled mess the night of Christmas Eve. 

Steve says, in a tone so casually condescending, “Seems that way, yeah.” 

“Didn’t leave enough time between your panty raids to get it done?”  Snark is met with snark, but, because of the circumstances, there’s not the typical edge to it that would be expected from the two of them.

“I manage my escapades perfectly fine, thank you.” Steve toes at a box heaping with ornaments and labeled with the words ‘to throw out’ written in cursive on the side. “My parents just think decorating is too undistinguished, so I’m only allowed to have them up for a few days.” 

“Right.” Billy agrees like he understands, but he really doesn’t. How can sprucing up your house with a bunch of fancy and expensive trinkets and decorations be any worse than leaving it empty and barren? Rich people. “And how, exactly, would they know if you put them up early?” 

Tossing a strand of garland that had previously been draped over the back of the chaise, because of course they have a chaise in their first living room, Steve says, “Shut up and help me put them up then.” 

So he does. He untangles giant knots of tinsel, of lights and of icicles, and unwraps all of the Harringtons’ precious glass ornaments for Steve to put on the artificial trees (he’s allergic to pine) in the entrance hall and the dining room. 

He puts up the glass stocking holder and hangs the silky, designer stockings, which, judging from the faded fabric and the peeling letters written in red glitter glue to spell out STEVEn, are from a time when Ruthie and Stephen Sr. still darkened these doors. Alongside them on the mantelpiece, he hangs a handful of Christmas cards from Steve’s random relatives up on a thin piece of ribbon. 

The banister of the grand staircase is wrapped in miles of scratchy garland, enough that they can hardly see the wooden finish underneath, and matching wreaths are hung in the windows and on the doors. 

Just to prove how rich they were, the Harringtons also have a rather extensive collection of those ceramic trees, not the type you make yourself, but the expensive ones you can order from Avon and other designers Billy can’t even pronounce the name of, and they’ve put one on just about every surface that is close enough to an outlet for a plug to reach.

There are so many extension cords run through every room, Billy’s worried that Steve might end up burning up in a house fire, but it’s worth it to see the twinkling lights reflecting on blank white walls, the soothing colors brightening up a space he could imagine was typically devoid of life. 

And in the end, having wrestled with dusty old decorations to transform Steve’s house into something so, so pleasant? spirited? entirely unfamiliar to someone like him? he thinks he’s earned the hard whiskey he was promised at the door. 

Hours go by, and the two of them are sitting in the center of the giant French Country rug, a cotton and silk substitute for the Persian Steve turned out to be allergic to, backs against the coffee table and more than a little tipsy. 

Leaning back on his elbows, Billy lets his head fall back, his sprayed curls fanning out over the mahogany surface, where they have a bayberry candle burning out of the top of an empty bottle of Stephen Sr's liquor of choice. 

Blinking slowly up at the ceiling, the blur of the colorful lights making him dizzy, he asks, “So, how does this work, without your parents here, d’ya just, buy your own presents and put ‘em under the tree yourself?” 

“Nah. They mail them to Miss Hetty the help, and she brings ‘em to me in the mornin’. 7 a.m. sharp.” He pops the p on the “sharp” like he’s proud to admit he has a nanny at almost 19 years old. 

“The help. Think that’s somehow more depressing.” Billy ignores the way Steve’s eyebrows furrow together and his quiet, mumbled out, “Rude.” 

“Don’t think I have much room to talk though.” He sits up again so he can look at Steve. “Your zippo’s the only thing I’m gettin’ this year, ‘cept for maybe a-a good backhand or two after Susan gets her family photos.” 

A smile cracks across the other boy's face as he lowers his voice, sounding all too excited to say, “Guess that makes us a couple-a misfits then, huh?”

And Billy can’t help the laugh he lets out at that god awful reference, true as it may be, and it's with a smile on his face that he says, “God, you are such a cheeseball, man.” 

“Hey! I saw an opportunity, and I had to take it.” There’s a smile equal to his own on Steve’s face, as he laughs at what he said with Billy, and the moment passes. 

In the silence that follows, they sit just like that, appreciating their moment of camaraderie that they know is going to come to an end soon, as the grandfather clock chimes for another hour gone by, the bayberry burns down another few centimeters, and the headachy feeling of too much alcohol starts to set in. 

It was nice to not be surrounded by faux affection and suffocated by the fear of stepping out of line, but like all good things, Christmas Eve must come to an end at some point, and so it was that, around quarter to twelve, Billy makes his first attempt to stand on drunken feet. 

Based on the fact that he doesn’t immediately fall on his ass, he’ll probably be alright to drive, not that he really has much of a choice, so he grabs his keys off the coffee table and announces his departure. 

“It’s been real Harrington, but duty calls.” 

“Yeah, sure. Thanks man.” Steve waves Billy off and leans forward, letting his forehead come to rest against the surface of the laminated hardwood, obviously more affected by the whiskey than the other boy. 

But Billy finds himself cemented to the spot, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his denim jacket as he tries to get together what he wants to say, because he still hasn’t properly apologized. 

Not that it’s something he’d normally do, but some things can’t be fixed with Christmas Decorations and cinnamon spirits. “Look, I’m sorry, about the, the fight and everything Harrington, I just-“ 

“S’okay.” Steve tries to look at him, but he's barely able to sit up anymore. He’s got an arm slung over the top of the coffee table to keep himself upright, and his words slur to be almost unintelligible as he tells Billy, “Already forgave ya.” 

“But, I don’t- you shouldn’t-“ Taking a deep breath through his nose to collect himself, Billy continues, “How did you know I deserved that?” 

“Chalk it up to the Christmas spirit.” Accenting his words with the slightest shrug of his shoulders, Steve smiles a knowing little grin and says, “Go on home, Billy.” 

“Right, I’ll, see ya round then.” He starts to walk away, taking steps made shaky from the alcohol in his system, but from behind him he hears Steve say softly, “Wait.” 

Turning around, he raises his eyebrows to show Steve he’s at his attention, and Steve, eyes glossy and cheeks as red as the big man’s suit, looks him right in the eye (and the heart) to tell him. “Merry Christmas, Billy.” 

“Yeah, you too, Harrington.” The softness in his tone feels like a betrayal to himself, and he thanks the lord above that Steve is too drunk to hold it against him.

One last look over his shoulder, and he sees Steve face down on the coffee table again. Chuckling to nobody but himself, he thinks that maybe the flask wasn’t such a bright idea after all. 

Shutting those heavy double doors behind himself and getting back in the Camaro, while his hands shake and his heart races, is a strange feeling to say the least. 

Just up and walking away from the most genuine expression of compassion he’d ever experienced, knowing that, with what’s waiting for him back at home, he’s not going to ever let something like this happen again, makes him feel like he should just go running back in there, forget about curfews and abusive fathers so he can pursue this, this whatever with Harrington, but he knows that isn’t really an option. 

Knows he’ll get too attached if he doesn't leave now, that nipping that growing feeling of acceptance, of forgiveness, of warmth in his heart three sizes too small, right in the bud before it turns into something more wicked and ruins a perfectly good Christmas Eve, is the best possible thing for the both of them.

This was just an apology, righting the obvious wrongs that had taken place in November, and nothing more. 

Because having Steve Harrington three sheets to the wind and showing him the slightest bit of compassion wouldn’t be enough to break him down, no sir. This was Billy Hargrove after all, he didn’t let trivial things like throwing away potential friendships bring tears to his eyes, not in a million years. 

Or that’s at least what he’d like to think, but in all reality he does, shows up back at his own, completely average house back on Cherry with red rimmed eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed when he walks through the front door. 

So Billy spends the night just as he expected he would; a bruise forming on his cheek, wide awake in his bed, while visions of Steve Harrington danced in his head. 

Read also on ao3

[foxthefanboi]

Thoughts on the Finale

So on the off-chance that my followers care about what I thought of the finale, I wrote a 1,700-word meta. I know, probably overkill, but here it is. In summary: I know the finale was really unpopular with many people. Dean dying early, not addressing Cas’s confession, no reunion with their found family, etc. But I loved it. I was happy and satisfied with the ending. It’s not easy wrapping up a show like this, but it’s just what I needed. Here’s my thoughts on the finale and a defense of some of the things people were upset about: 

The Timing of Dean’s Death

Okay, so I know a lot of people are upset about Dean’s death, that he didn’t get to live a full life like Sam did. It is pretty upsetting. (Mainly, I really wish he’d gotten a chance to be a dad.) And I see how it conflicts with the theme of the season, which is free will and defying the fate of dying a violent death while hunting that they expected.

On the other hand, I think Dean was satisfied with his life when he died. It was the death he was always expecting and had accepted. He did a lot of good in his life and really he just wanted peace at that point, you know? Sure, he could’ve lived a longer life but I don’t think he felt like he was missing out when he died. Personally, I doubt he would’ve given up hunting, so his life would’ve been more of the same until he died, still probably from hunting. A full life would’ve been great, but Heaven was great for him too.

[Edit: Just read a post where they mentioned Dean was tired which was a point that was made again and again in the show and I think that’s part of why how he went out is okay! He loved hunting, he loved hunting with his brother, but it’s not sustainable and it wore him out and his peace is Heaven rather than an apple pie life, and that’s okay.]

The Manner of Dean’s Death

I sort of wish Dean’s death had been a little more dramatic. I mean, he did just defeat God and everything. And then he gets taken out by a spike in the wall? But I was okay with the hunt-gone-wrong thing. It seemed like sort of a lame death, but remember Asa Fox, the other legendary hunter? He died from tripping and hitting his head on a rock after his friend pushed him, so. It’s not unheard of, even for great hunters. And Dean would’ve died after being electrocuted in a pool of water in season 1 if a reaper hadn’t saved him. Unlucky deaths… Yeah, they happen.

But I do think it would’ve been good to have a more death-y death because Dean standing against a post didn’t give the immediacy of dying that some of the other deaths. He did have a couple of pained gasps and all that, but there wasn’t really blood showing or the obviousness of being so close to death, not the way that his Metatron death scene gave, for example.

Still though, I really did love the death scene. Like, I hated it, because it was heartbreaking and it made me cry, but it was just really emotional in the best way. Everything Dean said to Sam about looking up to him, and how he felt when he went to see Sam at Stanford, and then “I love you so much. My baby brother.” And then the forehead touch.

Honestly I sort of get the feeling they killed Dean off early just so that they could give us one last, weighty goodbye scene to be emotional about. Remember how much it hurt when Dean said goodbye before going to hell in season three? Or when Sam said goodbye in season 5 before saying yes to Lucifer? Or in season 11 when Dean went to stop Amara? That was all really good stuff. This was one last sendoff they couldn’t have given us if Dean had just lived his normal life.

Sam’s Life

I’m at least glad Sam got to live his life. That’s been his dream over and over since when he was a kid, when he went to college, when he took a year off with Amelia… And he finally got to have it. I’m not set on this opinion but, because of their codependency, I don’t think either Dean or Sam could’ve had something like that with each other in their lives, so Dean’s death ultimately sort of allowed Sam to live. If that makes sense.

What hurt me the most about this whole episode is that Sam had to live decades without his brother. They had thirty-seven years together (give or take a few missing years in the middle), which is a long time, but since Sam died of old age, that’s like half his lifetime without his brother! Decades!!!! I really wonder how Sam’s memory of Dean changed over that time, as he became a more and more distant memory…

zmediaoutlet had a cute post-episode Heaven fic where Dean and Sam are reunited and Sam has all the time he needs to tell Dean about every single part of his life. Even though Dean wasn’t there for it, he could get caught up in Heaven, which was… Just a nice thought. In my opinion.

We needed some closure on Eileen :(

Okay, so I was happy with how the show did Dean and Sam’s deaths. But they did leave us hanging on some pretty important things. Like, where the fuck was Eileen? Last we heard about her, Sam was crying about losing her after she got Thanos-snapped by Chuck. Presumably she came back, but even though she and Sam had been dating, he never checked in on her. And then Sam had a faceless wife. Couldn’t they have given us something more? John Winchester has shown up in flashbacks without being played by JDM or shown clearly and it’s obvious it’s him. They couldn’t have done something similar for Eileen? Like, Sam signing something to her as she watches him play catch in the backyard with Dean Jr.? I’m just gonna assume the faceless wife was Eileen, but some official endorsement would’ve been nice.

We really needed some closure on Cas :(((

Cas confessed his love to Dean in 15x18! Romantic love, according to the writers and actors!! This is a really big deal!!! But we never got to hear Dean’s thoughts. He never talked about it. The crying in the bunker after losing Cas, that really showed his grief, I thought. But we never actually got to see him react beyond that.

I read that, based on Becky’s Funko Pop set-ups, there was foreshadowing that Cas and Dean would at some point be outside the Harvelles’ Roadhouse together, and that this should’ve happened in the finale and probably would’ve if it hadn’t been for casting restrictions due to COVID. So. I’m just gonna go with saying that happened off-camera, and that Dean and Cas were reunited in Heaven. And that’s what fics are for! Maybe Dean’s straight and/or maybe he didn’t reciprocate. But maybe he did and he and Cas are in love and living(?) happily in Heaven together. The show never told us, which is kind of sad, because that would’ve been a nice, official ending. But it’s nice to have it open, too.

Is Heaven as an ending sort of a copout?

I read a post that said that Heaven as an ending is a copout because why even bother living if you’re going to eternal happiness in the end? Which is, you know, a pretty good point. I’ve said before that the Winchesters fight way too hard to bring people back when those people are happy in heaven. Like, remember when they were heartbroken over Rowena’s death? And then it turned out she was “living” her best life as the Queen of Hell and wondering why she’d been so worried about dying in the first place.

Anyway, some type of eternal afterlife has been inevitable since the very beginning of the show, so this has always been a point. It’s not just a finale thing used as a convenient way to wrap it up with a happy ending. It is a logical happy ending. Seriously.

I think there’s a couple things that kept the boys going. One, they had to keep living so they could effectively fight forces not only of Earth, but of Heaven, Hell, etc. as well. They were making the world a better place not just for the people who were living in it, but for the people who had passed and were in Heaven as well. Also they got a lot of closure they couldn’t have gotten if they were dead, e.g. against Azazel, etc. I feel like not getting that would’ve haunted them, even if they were in Heaven.

Second, you can’t really have new experiences in Heaven. Based on what Bobby said about time passing differently, you just sort of hang out in a blissed out state with your loved ones. Presumably there can be changes in relationships, but no one in Heaven is gonna work on a career, or have kids, stuff like that. Sam got that when he lived his life, and I think he needed to have that in a way that Dean didn’t.

The Winchesters changed heaven!

Also, it’s important to note that sure, if Sam and Dean had just decided Heaven was way more worth it than Earth, and they hadn’t brought each other back again and again, they would’ve saved themselves a lot of suffering. But then Heaven would be way different than how it ended. No more corrupt angels running things, no more threat of evil archangels, no more God interested in a story more than the well-being of the souls in his universe. Jack was good because of their efforts, and he’s just the God the universe needed. (And also Heaven was pretty close to shutting down from a lack of angels to power it so that would’ve sucked.) Basically, in summary, their lives and what they did with them is specifically what allowed them to have eternal peace and happiness. So they had good, meaningful lives. They changed things for everyone, everywhere, and now they deserve Heaven.

In summary

They carried on, and there was peace when they were done. What more can we ask for from a finale?

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 95 - Vaylin

I feel like I hold onto these sorta moments for ages but still hope you enjoy all the returns now we're expanding the stories :D

Kavaraa comes face to face with the former Empress of Zakuul

Kavaraa tried to keep herself from hyperventilating as Vaylin stood over her looking as scary as ever, this was so much all at once Kavaraa knew Vaylin had died; Kyradia had fought her on Odessen. But here she was standing over her angry as ever, the last time Kavaraa had encountered Vaylin she’d completely outclassed her and stopped her attempt to save Kyradia from carbonite.

Vaylin beared down on Kavaraa “who are you Jedi and why are you here, don’t make me ask again” Kavaraa shuddered she’d hoped never to encounter Vaylin again as close as Kavaraa was with Arcann his stories had only heightened her fear of Vaylin.

Kavaraa swallowed hard as she leaned back away from the saber at her throat “I’m uh Kavaraa Bysh Jedi Basen’thor and well I don’t exactly know how I got here do you?” she felt like that was a valid question for the former Empress

Vaylin seemed to frown for a second but brushed it off “you’re not the one asking questions here I could have the fleet here in a second to destroy you” Kavaraa eyes widened did she not realise?

Kavaraa cocked her head at Vaylin “you don’t know?, um Vaylin what’s the last thing you remember” she could see Vaylin twitch as she asked the question

She blinked and looked off for a second “I was fighting the Outlander in the fores…” she trailed off and frowned “no I was fighting my father with my family and the Outlander…” she looked around the room her focus no longer on Kavaraa allowing her to shuffle away from the saber “they freed me from his control…” she looked off distantly clearly confused by the memories “and then I was here” she turned back to Kavaraa a pained expression on her face

That pain quickly turned to anger as Kavaraa saw Vaylin snarl and lift a tree out of the ground and throw it at the wall, Kavaraa gulped as much as she was scared of Vaylin it was clear she needed some help otherwise she may kill Kavaraa. 

She slowly moved closer “you said you were fighting the Outlander did you win?” Vaylin’s grip was tight on her saber and as Kavaraa got close she found herself at the end of it once again

Vaylin snarled at her “what’s it to you Jedi!” Kavaraa jumped back in fright and as she did she noticed Vaylin’s expression soften in surprise

She cocked her head as Kavaraa shivered “are you scared of me?” Kavaraa looked away awkwardly was it better to lie here or be honest

She took a deep breath “I am yeah I’m sorry but you’re pretty intimidating, I’m not trying to play you or anything I’m genuinely just trying to help I don’t know my way out of here but I know it’s not at the end of your blade” Vaylin looked down dejected Kavaraa didn’t know if she was hurt by the fact she was scared of Vaylin or if it was something else “so again did you win?” Kavaraa hoped her helping Arcann could help her understand but Vaylin seemed entirely different

Vaylin lowered her saber a bit and blinked “I don’t think so, I don’t remember winning” a more frightened look was coming over Vaylin’s face

Kavaraa moved closer how on earth did she tell her this “and do you think either of you would’ve left each other the option to escape and prolong the war” Vaylin’s eyes widened as she shivered

She dropped the saber from her hand as she shuddered her mouth agape “I… I… I died she killed me and held me in her arms, I gave her no other option” Kavaraa couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now, she knew this was the former Empress who’d done terrible things but Senya had explained how if anyone was to blame it was Valkorion and herself.

Kavaraa tried her best not to overstep Vaylin’s boundaries while still comforting her “I’m sorry Vaylin but you left us no other choice, everything Valkorion did to you was horrible you didn’t deserve any of it” Vaylin’s sadness turned to anger again

She scowled at Kavaraa “what do you know of my pain Jedi!” Kavaraa swallowed hard as she felt the force energy coming from Vaylin, she had to stay strong though if she was going to survive

Kavaraa gave the kindest smile she could “I knew your brother and I helped him come to terms with his past, he still has a long way to go but he’s not what anyone made him. He told me what Valkorion did to all of you-” Kavaraa didn’t get to finish her sentence as Vaylin tackled her to the ground

Vaylin bared her teeth at her as Kavaraa began to hyperventilate “you’re the one who turned my brother against me! With your lies of peace and forgiveness as if anyone could forgive us for what we did” Kavaraa could feel her heart rate spike as she shook from fear she didn’t realise quite how afraid she was of Vaylin

Kavaraa closed her eyes to try and fight through the fear “I’m not saying it was easy but he helped save the galaxy from Valkorion and by the sounds of it so did you, I didn’t turn your brother against you I only did what I promised Senya if you want to blame someone blame her she certainly feels guilt for what happened” as soon as Kavaraa finished she felt the grip loosen as Vaylin let go of her

She was sitting on the ground looking away “you really are scared of me aren't you” Kavaraa nodded lying seemed like it would do no good here “it’s ok I’ve done plenty to earn it” she sighed “you’re wrong though, not everyone can change I’ve had plenty of opportunities” Kavaraa sat up brushing the dirt off her

Kavaraa nodded “I don't see it quite like that you say you’ve had opportunities but they’ve always been influenced by one common villain” Vaylin still seemed angry and like she’d snap at her in a second but at least she may be getting through

Vaylin hugged her knees and mumbled “Valkorion” Kavaraa nodded “but he’s gone now?” Kavaraa nodded again and smiled

She sighed “look I don’t know if you can change, I used to think everyone could change with the right environment but I think I was wrong some people just don’t want to change and that’s that. But who knows maybe now with that part of your life gone you could and if you don’t want to then I guess I can’t help” Vaylin sighed clearly considering what Kavaraa had said

She scoffed “it doesn’t matter anyway I’m dead, I had my chance and I wasted it if we were both alive I wouldn’t have indulged this conversation I’d just have killed you on the spot, but this is the most vivid thing that’s happened since we defeated Valkorion” Kavaraa shivered at the thought glad she had some buffer to stop Vaylin’s destructive side

Kavaraa shrugged “well you say that but clearly this holocron has stopped part of your soul from passing on into the living force so you’re technically alive even if your vessel is dead, plenty of people have had multiple vessels” as much as using those tyrannical people as an example was a bad idea it may reassure the former Empress

Vaylin seemed to consider it “I guess but they were all evil and dark methods” Kavaraa nodded sadly “what do you mean about a holocron?” she asked causing Kavaraa’s eyes to widen

She explained “well that’s how I got here I noticed something familiar from a holocron in the archive I’m at and when I focussed on it I arrived here” Vaylin frowned looking around

She scowled “so I’m trapped forever in a prison, the more things change the more they stay the same” Kavaraa nodded she didn’t really have any answers for Vaylin or any solutions but she could at least try to help her, more for Arcann and Senya than anything she knew they’d appreciate this. “But you’re not here for me Kavaraa what’s the actual reason you’re here” Kavaraa was surprised by the question although true she was surprised Vaylin had the context to put it together

She looked away “well my ancestors run this archive and there’s a threat to it so I kinda gotta stay and protect it” she felt like telling the person eternally trapped in a holocron was fine she couldn’t exactly tell anyone

Vaylin clearly had given up on being aggressive accepting her fate at least for the time being “what sort of threat? I’d kill for something interesting” Kavaraa shivered knowing she meant it but while she was stuck here she may as well talk about it

She explained “well um it turns out the Emperor’s Wrath is here trying to consolidate power and I don’t exactly want her finding this place or getting herself more power” Vaylin nodded leaning against a tree

She yawned “is the wrath the tall pale one with the red robes or the red and black one with the pretty hair” Kavaraa frowned a bit at the descriptions especially because she’d fought Kyradia on multiple occasions

She let out a small chuckle “the first one, very tall, very angry and very powerful” Vaylin seemed to frown at this and turn to her

Vayin shook her head “I mean sure she’s pretty powerful but she’s so easy to get in the head of, that’s how I beat her; you just get her all angry and rage filled and she’ll start making mistakes. Fighting her isn’t about outclassing her power cause believe me even I was a little intimidated by her power, it’s about out thinking her cause she isn’t the smartest one you’ve ever seen” Kavaraa nodded surprised to be getting advice from the former Empress of all people but she did bring up a valid point

Kavaraa stroked her chin “what sorta stuff did you use to get in her head” she’d never been the trash talky type

Vaylin smiled “oh easy stuff like ‘you’re just a pawn in the emperors game’ or ‘he’s just using you you’ll never be part of his empire’ or ‘he abandoned you’ usually stuff people would say to me, although they may need to be adapted now father is well and truly disposed of” Kavaraa shivered hearing her talk so casually about her father's death but she doubted she understood what it had been like

Kavaraa nodded “I think I can work out something like that, I can’t believe I'm gonna say this but thanks Vaylin” Vaylin seemed confused by the statement

She frowned “Uh why I didn’t do anything?” Kavaraa shook her head

She smiled “seriously before this I have never come close to beating the Wrath now I have a genuine chance you just helped me out” Vaylin seemed confused and unsure what to say

She let out a deep breath “uh you’re welcome I think, I didn’t do it for you though this is just the only thing that’s been more than a vague memory for ages I’d take anything over how it feels in here” Kavaraa shivered she couldn’t imagine “can I ask how long it’s been since I uh ‘died’” Kavaraa didn’t even know how to answer that

She twiddled her thumbs “um it’s been about 2 years give or take” Vaylin’s eyes widened as she looked around

She put her hands to her temples “ugh 2 years and to me it felt like a couple days I gotta find a way out of here” she looked to Kavaraa and for a few moments clearly had to bring herself to ask something “can you uh… can you um… can you come visit me every now and again so I don’t go crazy, I’ll even help with your problems just keep me from going insane, well anymore insane” Kavaraa was surprised at the request clearly Vaylin’s initial anger had melted away when she’d realised the magnitude of her predicament but was she ready to visit someone who terrified her

She thought of Senya and Arcann and realised she had to help “ok Vaylin I’ll visit when I can but first of all I have to work out a way out of here” Vaylin nodded thinking to herself

She smiled “Maybe I can help with that” she concentrated and a quick fog built up around them and before Kavaraa knew it she was back in her chambers in the archive breathing heavily.

She gasped realising the magnitude of what just happened. She’d just found the dead former Empress Vaylin in a holocron and she was seemingly cooperating with her, Kavaraa expected it was because she had to to even think about escaping the thing. But still maybe she could do something similar to what she did with Arcann, she certainly wouldn’t mind helping the Tiralls a little more. Kavaraa picked up the holocron and looked at it with a smile, maybe she could fix them...

[mitchmarnier]

pieces of me

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie toizer (reddie) word count: 2,344 summary: The whole concept of soul mates actually freaked Eddie out. Somebody being the other half of you? That you aren’t complete without another person? No fucking thank you. Eddie didn’t need anybody to complete him. He was his own person on his complete own self. ITFandomWeek2019: Day one | Soulmate AU.

read on ao3.

Soulmates weren’t real. Eddie knew that. Maybe they had once been real, when magic still existed world wide, had still been a power source of society. As technology dependency, and the patriarchy, had grown through the world, magic had died out. There would always be people who practised it, but the days of Biblical monsters, creatures and Gods were gone- and the concept of soulmates had disappeared with them. Stories were still passed along, that humans had once been one being; four arms, four legs, one heart. That they’d been torn apart because they were just too powerful that way. That a soul would be spend the rest of their lives searching for its other half a heart. That because of the once bodily connection you once shared, you could feel the emotions of your soulmate. You could feel their pain. But those are just that- stories. Legends and myths that were passed along for entertainment, but never taken as truth.

Soulmate was a term that got tossed around simply. Every single straight girl Eddie had ever known called every single boy she dated her soulmate, and those same boys had smiled and nodded and not believed it for a second, all whilst thinking about their side hoes. At least, that’s what Eddie had gotten the vibe of regarding straight relationships. And Eddie wasn’t straight. Thank god.

The whole concept of soul mates actually freaked Eddie out. Somebody being the other half of you? That you aren’t complete without another person? No fucking thank you. Eddie didn’t need anybody to complete him. He was his own person on his complete own self.

“That’s not what it’s about, Eddie.” Ben had tried to explain to him. Ben Hanscom had been the biggest fanatic of soulmates, a true believer. He’d never said it, but Eddie knew he thought Beverly was his. “Of course you’re both complete people on your own. You’ll just be… happier with the other person. Your true other half.”

Ben sighed and looked longingly towards Beverly. Richie made a loud gagging noise, and Eddie shot him a smile. “I’m with Eds. If there’s somebody out there who’s meant to be with me.” Richie followed this sentence with quotations over who’s meant to be with me and gave a goofy grin. “There’s probably something seriously fucking wrong with them. I’ll pass on whatever train wreck that’ll be.”

Eddie’s lips tugged down in a frown, picking at the crusts of his jelly sandwich. It was only jelly, because his mother had always told him he was allergic to peanuts, but Eddie knew he’d eaten things with peanuts all the time and nothing had ever happened to him. Just jelly sandwiches were boring.

“Richie, come on that’s...” Mike spoke up suddenly, looking at Richie with wide and sad eyes. Eddie recognized the look from when Mike had introduced him to a little baby pig, before mentioning the pig was the runt of the litter and he wasn’t sure if the baby would even make it through the night.

“Woooo anyway! I gotta go!” Richie jumped up from the table, smacking his knee a little angrily against it. Eddie winced as he felt the sympathy pains shoot through his own knee. Richie took off at the surprisingly fast pace for somebody who was limping, while Eddie watched him carefully, still rubbing at his own knee.

✸✸✸

Eddie is 13 when the first really weird thing happens to him. He’d gone out for their lunch break with Stan, ending up walking around and talking about absolutely nothing in particular. When all of a sudden Eddie was completely overcome with the worst coughing fit of his life. It was worse than any asthma attack he’d ever had, even on the hottest days of summer, and the really startling difference was when Eddie began to cough up water.

A lot of water. A troubling amount of water. Too much water .

“What the fuck!” Stan shouted, reaching out to pat enthusiastically on Eddie’s back, but it didn't help. Eventually, the coughing slowed itself and Eddie was able to breathe in again. He took in several, harsh breaths and pressed angrily at the tears in his eyes. How did he even have enough water in his body to be crying?

Stan looked down at the puddle of water on the ground in horror. “What the fuck was that?”

“You think I know?” Eddie wheezed out. running his hands through his hair. “It felt like I was drowning. I mean, I know I say that about my asthma, too, but that...”

Stan dropped his foot down in the puddle, frowning at it in thought. “Yeah. Drowning.”

But they were 13, and shrugged things off as 13 year olds were known to do. They walked back towards their school, and strolled slowly to a stop when they noticed there friends all walking back as well. With Richie, dripping wet and looking a little shell shock.

“Bill fucking pushed me off the dock!” Richie shouted the second he spotted Stan and Eddie. “I don’t even know what happened, but I just started fucking drowning. I probably would’ve died if Mike hadn’t pulled me out!”

Stan’s eyes blew open wide and Eddie fidgeted awkwardly in hopes of hiding his now slightly wet T-shirt.

✸✸✸

They’re fifteen and Richie suddenly feels a flash of fear that he can’t understand, can’t find a source to. It didn’t feel like that same kind of untraceable fear that he got before panic attacks, it felt like it did have a source but he just didn’t know what it was. There was a quick, dull pain along his back and the fear inside him spiked.

Richie looked around, unsure his the fear inside him was unsourced still or if his own fear was growing, but his eyes fell on Stan and Bev. Eddie was supposed to have met them outside the school to go to the library and work on their History final project. “Where’s Eddie?”

“Eddie’s always late,” Beverly said easily, not looking up from her phone. “I wouldn’t expect him for at least ten more minutes.”

Richie shook his head, chest startling to feel tight. There was an ache in his wrists like somebody was grabbing him, but there were no hands there. He shook his head again, much more firmly, and turned back towards the school. He didn’t notice the thoughtful look on Stan’s face as he looked at him.

“We need to find him.” Richie said quickly, rushing back into the now-empty school, not bothering to concern himself with whether his friends were following him or not. He ran through the school, not even sure how he knew where he was going. He kept feeling the tight pressure of somebody grabbing him on his skin, and the burning fear deep in his gut. There was anger in the fear, but Richie still felt like it wasn’t his. He took off into the school, not caring if his friends were following him. He let some sort of instinct that he didn’t understand guide him through the halls until he stumbled upon the scene.

Henry had Eddie pressed up against the lockers, using his larger hands to bind Eddie’s wrists so it was harder for him to wiggle free. The rage in Richie then was completely his own.

“Yeah…” Richie drawled out, crossing his arms and forcing a smirk on his face. Both Henry and Eddie turned to look at him, Henry like a kid who’d woken up to a surprise Christmas and Eddie with a spark of genuine fear that Richie could read so clearly on his face that it was almost as though he could feel it, too. “You’re gonna let him go now.”

Richie loved how short Henry’s attention span always was, because he dropped Eddie’s wrists and turned his attention to Richie almost immediately. Richie let his half-grown filter drop away completely, and threw words at Henry that put himself to shame. He was fairly certain he’d never called anybody a daddy’s cock sucking little goof before. Richie wasn’t paying attention, or he would’ve noticed the little ball of warmth in his chest. Something close to fond, maybe a little bit of amusement. Something that wasn’t his, but was for him. Stan and Bev broke through before Henry could wreck Richie too bad, and Henry took off down the halls. Bigger and crazier, maybe, but even he knew better than to go four against one without a weapon on his side.

Eddie came to crouch down beside Richie, pulling out Kleenex and wiping at the blood under Richie’s nose. “How did you know where I was?”

Richie shrugged one shoulder, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “I don’t know.”

They were too busy looking at each other to notice the look that Bev and Stan exchanged.

✸✸✸

Eddie was eighteen, and was pretty sure that agreeing to room with Richie in college was the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. And yes, he was aware that he was being dramatic but living in a tiny college dorm room had made Eddie’s little puppy love crush that he’d had on Richie all through high school develop into something much, much deeper. Much scarier.

The scariest part of it all was that sometimes Eddie thought that maybe Richie liked him back. He’d never been the type to get hopes about anything, but every once in awhile Eddie would feel a rush of warm emotion and turn around to see that Richie was already smiling at him.

He’d already heard all of Ben’s theories on it. He was pretty sure that if Eddie didn’t start to agree with him soon, Ben was going to create a whole powerpoint presentation and force the Losers to sit through it. Eddie remembered the short period of time where Ben’s romantic side had died, when Beverly had come out and Ben had been thrown through a loop. Supportive and loving as always, but he’d had to readjust himself to life where he couldn’t walk away and dream of Beverly Marsh being his soulmate. So when Ben latched onto Eddie and Richie, Eddie didn’t have the heart to keep telling him that soulmates were bullshit.

“Ow, fuck!” Eddie yanked his hand away from his notebook, shaking it as though he was burned. He looked up and noticed Richie jumping away from the little mini grill in their room that Richie had insisted that they buy when they moved in, so they wouldn’t always have to eat cafeteria food. It didn’t matter that the food Richie made on that grill was always significantly worse than anything their caf served.

“Did you burn yourself, dumbass?” Eddie asked with a low sigh, clenching his hand shut tight and trying to ignore the stinging he felt himself.

“Yeah.” Richie grunted, immediately going back to attempting to light it up. Eddie swallowed roughly and shook his head. He needed to get Ben out of his head.

✸✸✸

Richie’s entire stomach was jumping with anxiety. He stood outside his own dorm room. The night before Ben had ambushed Richie at the party and laid out a series of things for him. Things that Richie had never been able to explain to himself, had never really taken the time to think about it all honesty. The way that Richie and Eddie always been able to read each other’s emotions almost without pause, sometimes better than they were even processes their own emotions. Pointing out that the other day Richie had fallen down outside and Eddie had said ow, without looking up or turning around to see Richie on the ground.

“You’re obviously soulmates,” Ben had pleaded with Richie. Looking like he was moments away from grabbing Richie by the shoulders and shaking him. “Like, real soulmates. That’s so rare! You’re really just going to throw all that away?”

Richie still wasn’t sure he believed in soulmates. Wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of them, and he knew that Eddie didn’t. Eddie had always told anybody who’d listen how much he hated the idea of soulmates. But Richie did really like Eddie, hell he’d always really liked Eddie. He didn’t really care if they were soulmates or not, he just hoped that-

Their dorm room door swung open, and Eddie was standing on the other side looking annoying. “Why are you just standing out here, stressing out?”

Richie gaped. “How did you know I was standing out here?”

Eddie scowled. “Your anxiety is so loud I could practically smell it. What’s wrong?”

Richie swallowed slowly. “Smell it…. Or feel it?”

Eddie blinked and then groaned. He turned away and stomped into the room. When he dropped onto Richie’s bed and raised his brow, Richie jumped into attention and followed him in. “Ben got to you?” Eddie asked as Richie took a seat beside him. “Fuck. I should’ve known he’d eventually realize that you’re the weaker link and start playing you.”

Richie frowned. “I know you don’t believe in soulmates, or whatver but you… are you really that against us ever being together?”

Eddie blinked, then frowned. “No, I didn’t. I mean… is that what this is? Like what if Ben’s soulmate propaganda just… tricked you into thinking you like me?”

Richie burst out laughing, unable to hold it back. “Eds. Baby. I’ve liked you since I was like… ten. It’s sort of always fucking been you for me. I was just never sure…”

“It’s always been you for me, too.” Eddie interrupted him, shaking his head. “I’m still not sold on this whole soulmate bullshit, I want to choose who I end up. I don’t want it to be decided for me.”

“Okay, well…” Richie reached out and took Eddie’s hand. A flash of heat rushed through them both in unison. “Would you choose me then? Did you, without anybody talking about soulmates?”

Eddie smiled softly, turning towards Richie and leaning in to kiss him softly, quickly. “I’d choose you in any universe. For whatever reason.”

Richie laughed and kissed him again.

[zenithlux]

Cadence CH 7

Catch up on the story here!

In which Roxy shows Vergil what she can really do.

Still is my soul My blood drawn cold I gain control

Oblivion - THE PRIMALS

The second Vergil stepped out of the portal, the latent demonic energy in the area snapped at him like a pack of rabid wolves unaware that he was the much more dangerous predator. He heard Roxy suck in a sharp breath, followed by a cautious coo from Aki as he hopped up onto her shoulder. “What is it?” Vergil said, genuinely curious if she felt something similar. V had some awareness of demons around him thanks to Griffon and Shadow, but a single month wasn’t enough to explore the possibilities of the familiars’ power. A decades-long connection with Aki must have given her something.

Then there was the matter of her second demon. He couldn’t sense it, but that didn’t surprise him. Familiars had no true form when contained within their pact-maker. He’d felt Nightmare at the back of his mind, but had never tried conversing with it. He wasn’t even sure if it was capable of normal speech. Maybe her’s wasn’t either. 

“There’s a lot of demons around,” She said with a frown. “More than I’m used to.” 

“Can you tell anything about them from here?”

Her look turned quizzical. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Vergil realized he didn’t have a good response to that, as any explanation he could provide would likely give away his own demonic nature. He wasn’t sure what the right time to share that was, but the first day of an actual acquaintanceship probably wasn’t it. “We need to find Nico,” He said. Nico was smart enough to stay away from the more dangerous fights, but if the portals had caught her off guard…

He heard the van long before he saw it. And whether it was the screeching of tires, the clear panic in the echo of Nico’s voice, or his demonic sixth sense, he pulled Roxy towards himself and dashed to the side. He heard her gasp, but it was drowned out by the engine of the van as it whirled by them both. It spun to the side as it skidded, and nearly toppled over before somehow landing on all four wheels. In her wake were at least five demon corpses, including the one who’s bones cracked under the van. Roxy’s ragged, terrified breathing echoed in his ears, and her heart was beating so loudly that he could feel it as if it were his own. “What was that!?” She said. 

“Nico,” Vergil replied

“Is she crazy?”

“It’s highly probable.”

“I knew he’d save ya,” Nico said as she hopped out of the driver’s seat. “Well, I didn’t know you’d be here, but figured it would work out.” Vergil glared at her, but Nico didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, she kicked at the head of the dead empusa beneath her van three times before it dislodged from whatever had impaled it. “I haven’t heard from Nero or Dante since we got a call about this place, so I’m assuming they’re fine. But another portal opened up near here that you should be able to take out before they get back.”

Vergil wasn’t certain if that was a casual remark on how quickly he could fight, or a warning: Nero will be back soon.  “What’s causing it?” Roxy asked. 

“Not sure,” Nico said. “They might know more by now but…” 

She flinched as a series of varied shrieks echoed on the horizon. Of course, Vergil heard more than she ever could. “There’s a lot more than just demons around,” He said simply as he clicked Yamato in his hand. 

“Humans caught up in it?” Roxy said. “We could try reaching…” Her voice trailed off as a black line appeared in the air before expanding into an uneven square; a shredded portal that was nowhere near as clean as the ones Vergil could open. The demons that spilled out were the expected variety of rabble. Empusas (hell seemed to have an abundance of those)  Hell Cainas with their skeleton bodies and incredibly long scythes, and a few Hellbats with the usual chamber of explosive flames mounted on their backs. These weaklings weren’t a concern. Vergil could kill them all with a set of summoned swords if he wanted. Though that would make hiding his demonic nature a bit more difficult, so a few quick slices would have to do. 

A trio of arrows pierced the empusas first, draining their blood as they crumbled. The arrows vanished in a spark of purple light and the energy returned to Roxy’s hand. She took a deep and satisfied breath, though Vergil could see the twinge of worry in her eyes. “These bugs are always nice to see,” She said. “Easy targets. Plenty of energy to harvest. A hunter's dream.”

“They’re called Empusas,” he said.

She hummed in thought. “Not the name I would’ve given them. But sure, let’s go with that.”

“There’s plenty of books on the topic.”

“Not in any library I’ve been to recently.”

“Your father studied demons, didn’t he?”

“The important ones, sure,” She said with a dismissive wave. “I also don’t think those particular demons existed while he was still alive considering they showed up when that tree did.”

Vergil hadn’t thought of that, nor did he want to talk about that particular tree. Instead, he silently grabbed Yamato, lurched forward, cut down the Hell Cainas and shot a bat out of the air with a summoned sword from close enough that she shouldn’t see it. He slid away from the explosion, taking great care to not instinctively teleport. 

Acting human was a lot more difficult than it should have been.

“So you fight them up close and I’ll shoot down whatever I can.” Roxy said cheerfully.

He almost snapped a quick “I can handle this myself”, but bit his tongue. Sure, he could. But handling itself meant he wouldn’t get to see her other demon, and she would have used all of her energy for nothing. But not trusting himself to express that the right way, he simply nodded as more demons spilled out of the portal. This time, the empusas were replaced by the lizard-like Riots. Nothing that concerned him. He surged forward without a second thought, forcing himself to weaken what he could without outright killing them.

That too was something much more difficult than it should have been.

But Roxy kept her word. Every almost dead demon he left behind, she shot in a heartbeat. He tried his best to move on before absorbing the essence himself. However, he realized quickly that he didn’t have to worry, as her arrows drained the demons on their own. A clever evolution for Aki. Vergil wondered if it was something her father had taught the demon or something it had picked up on its own over the years. 

Once that portal vanished, Vergil was confident he had seen enough. “Check on Nico,” He said as he sheathed Yamato and scanned the area for any more spikes of energy. There were still a few demons around, but the human screams in the area were gone, and the only blood he could smell was demonic. If any humans had died, they weren’t here. 

But whatever pride he might have felt at such a thing (which wasn’t much given the simplicity of the task) dissipated the second Nero arrived.

Every time Vergil saw Nero, he was always struck by the impossibility of it all.  He really should have been Dante's son, not his. He knew from the occasional drunk conversation that Dante had considered it when they first met. (Dante being drunk, not Vergil. He'd be a corpse in the ground long before he partook of that infernal drink). His brother's escapades with women during their teenage years were far more frequent than Vergil's, seeing as he'd been with one person and Dante couldn't give him a definitive number. But Dante had joked that Vergil must not have considered any form of protection, and Vergil had been too stubborn to ask what he meant. 

Now he knew, but not through his brother. He tried to avoid his brothers smug, know-it-all grin as much as possible. 

But he and Nero were nothing alike, physicality aside. Vergil was calm and kept his thoughts mostly to himself. Nero was brash and spoke his mind. Vergil avoided most human contact whenever possible. Nero embraced it, even volunteering at the orphanage in his spare time. 

Nero had his life together. Vergil, regrettably, did not.

“What are you doing here?” Nero said as he reached for the sword on his back. Vergil wasn’t sure if that was a self-conscious decision, or if his son truly intended to fight him right now in the midst of a demon invasion.

“I am here to help,” Vergil said. “Just as you are.”

“Sure you are,” Nero said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the idiot who summoned all these things.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “I did nothing of the sort.”

Nero snorted, rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Both of ours, Vergil thought, but he stopped himself before he said it. Vergil refused to blame anyone else for his predicament, even though he didn’t think there was much else he could do. Nero seemed to take his silence as an admission of guilt and continued. “Thankfully for you, Dante already found the guy. Some old man in his basement. But don’t you dare think this makes anything better. People are dying out here and you went on a date.”

“You didn’t call me,” Vergil said. “Nico did. And it wasn’t a date. It was a meeting.”

“You were supposed to be on surveillance.”

“Wasn’t it your goal to keep me away from this part of the city to begin with?”

Nero was seething now, and Vergil was surprised one of them didn’t burst into flames. “There are portals over there too, asshole. I had to send Lady and Trish in your place.”

“How many?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it does,” Vergil said. “As I am more than capable of dealing with the influx of portals here. A single, coincidental one over there would be a waste of my time.” It was simple logic really, but Vergil didn’t say so. 

A scream from Nico knocked them both out of the petty feud. In the distance, a pack of Riots surrounded her, stalking from all sides. Another demon, a gangly Baphomet that Vergil hadn’t seen in a long time, hovered just in front of a new portal, chanting something in an old demonic language. And while Nico scrambled for the van, Roxy stood in front of her, calm and collected. A small blue light hovered over her palm, and Vergil realized that the demons were moving much slower than they usually did. 

“Nico!” Nero shouted

“Wait,” Vergil said.

Nero’s head jerked toward him in protest, but Vergil ignored him. Roxy’s fingers twitched and the light rose just a bit higher before snapping into a new shape. An orb of ice hovered over her hand like an otherworldly snow globe called from the aether. A single glass snowflake hovered within, glittering with a swirl of light blue. It was enough to quiet Nero’s panic beside him. Even the demons consumed by a desire for human blood had gone still. Her eyes flickered to him, and her tight-lipped expression shifted to a small smirk as she looked back at the monsters before her. 

“Come forth, friend.”

Her voice was a whisper, but the air around her responded to her call.  The orb pulsed once as she raised her hand toward the sky. It lifted far above her head before it pulsed again. Shards of ice shot out from its smooth surface as its perfect form expanded into a jagged, powerful conglomerate of magic. The blue in her hair bled out, and a matching glow radiated through her clothing. An impossible flurry of snow rose from her feet, swirling upward around her body until it reached the ever-expanding orb above her. Her hair turned a deep shade of red. Her skin paled. Energy pulsed again. The demons broke from their stupor, each one charging with desperate abandon.

Vergil grabbed Nero’s arm seconds before the younger devil hunter lurched to her aid. “I said wait,” Vergil said, calm in the face of the pure rage that followed as his son tried to escape his grasp. 

“You’re just going to let them die?” He snapped.

“The situation is under control.”

“You don’t know that you fucking…”

A resounding crack silenced him. When they looked back, the orb shattered. But shards that should have gone in all directions turned to snow, and the energy alone shot the demons backward. Some shattered the moment they touched the ground. Others survived but were slow to get up. The Baphomet began mumbling its familiar shield incantation, but Vergil knew that wouldn’t save it from her.

“Kuraokami,” She said. The snow surged backward forming a tornado flurry. A massive tail with overlapping scales of ice curled out around her and slammed against the ground. Two arms twice as tall as Roxy followed, with one on either side of her. Pauldrons of white ice formed on its shoulders and talons pierced straight through the concrete. Vast wings of sharpened icicles snapped outward and the tornado dissipated. A large dragon head stretched out over her with four horns curving backward and multiple layers of ice protecting its back. Pale blue eyes snapped open and the demon roared; a haunting sound that echoed all around them even though there was nothing to contain it. 

But Vergil felt the strength behind that sound alone. An arch-demon; one far older than himself. His demon-half wasn’t intimidated, but it acknowledged the untold amount of years between them. And, given Nero’s dumbfounded expression, Vergil assumed he felt something similar, even if he didn’t know what it was. 

But Vergil… Vergil was impressed. This human woman, whose body seemed to shift between perfectly healthy and broken in the blink of an eye, had made a pact with an arch demon. And given the way its power quite literally radiated off of her, Vergil was certain this partnership had lasted far longer than he would have ever guessed without seeing it for himself. 

Now, with this ice dragon towering over them all, he realized he’d judged her far too soon. He had taken her for someone who had made a pact on a whim and was still struggling to control it. It explained the back pain and the temporary paralysis, so he hadn’t considered this second demon to be any more than an unruly mess. Aki had been a gift from her father, so surely she couldn’t have made a strong pact on her own. 

Vergil now understood how wrong his assumptions had been. She stood with pride, staring down the demons before her with the confidence of someone who had fought similar battles hundreds of times. And the way her hand drifted along the dragon’s icy scales with great fondness… She was clearly an experienced summoner, and this pact was no accident. A single month with three arguably weaker demons had nearly broken him. He couldn’t imagine what she had given up for such a beast. 

Now, Roxanna had Vergil's full attention, and he was certain she knew it.

“It is good to see you,” Roxy whispered as she glanced up at her companion. The dragon growled in response, and she laughed. “It has been a rather long nap for you, hasn’t it?” The portal across from her widened, and a new batch of demons surged outward. But her smile didn’t fade. “Destroy the source, and I’ll handle the rest.” The dragon huffed, and a puff of white snow billowed from its nostrils. Roxy shook her head. “Child’s play for you, yes?” She held her hand out and Aki vanished as the bow appeared. This time, it crackled with purple lightning, surging outward stronger than the last time he had seen her. 

I hunted yesterday, She had said. How many demons had she needed to kill to achieve this? Surely he and Dante would have heard about such an infestation. 

And how had she done that alone in what he assumed was a weakened state?

Vergil swallowed a sudden strange feeling of excitement. A part of him thought these questions shouldn’t matter. Her abilities were there for all of them to see. But he realized very quickly that he wanted to know how she had accomplished such a feat. He wanted to understand how this power of hers worked, and why her strength seemed to wax and wane at seemingly random times instead of a steady decline. 

The Baphomet’s shield appeared as Roxy threw her hand out. “Shatter!” The dragon’s head snapped forward at her call and a beam of pure ice swept through the demons. Each one turned to ice. The demon struggled, but a series of quick arrows killed them all. The essence flooded into the dragon as it fired another shot straight into the portal. Ice billowed out, swirling around the edges until only a small hole remained. Vergil heard the shrieks from the other side; one more shot would end it. But when Roxy reached for another arrow, she flinched. Her hand twitched toward her back, but she stopped and forced herself to stand up as straight as she could. “Impossible,” She muttered. “How could yesterday not have been enough?” 

A shard of ice shot out of the portal. The dragon’s tail knocked it out of the sky, and Roxy found a smaller arrow to shoot at a second. A Riot slammed into the ice, shrieking as it tossed itself into the barrier over and over again. Vergil heard the grating sounds of metal claws scratching on the surface, but it had yet to break through. But as soon as he heard Roxy’s labored breathing, he knew she couldn’t hold the dragon’s power much longer. “He’s slowed the demons inside,” Roxy said. “But I can’t close it myself.”

Vergil moved without another word, and long before Nero had the chance. The Riot’s head emerged from the hole, cracking the barrier. But when Vergil slashed across the ice, the portal snapped shut. The lizard’s head hit the ground and turned to dust. He sheathed Yamato with a satisfying click and looked to her. 

Except what he got was a very very angry Nero. 

“What was the point in waiting?” Nero said. “You risked their lives for what? Your amusement?”

Vergil’s eyebrow shot up. Did Nero truly believe he couldn’t have intervened? Or that he wasn’t ready at any point to step in? “They were fine.”

“Bullshit!” Nero said. “You didn’t have a clue what she could do.”

Now, Vergil was baffled. Wasn’t Nero the one who wanted humans to learn to fight for themselves? Or had he misunderstood Dante’s descriptions of the boy? “She is a grown woman, Nero. She’s fought demons before and wanted to do it again. Who am I to stop her?”

“Wonderful!” Nero snapped. “Let’s just risk the lives of even more humans so Ms. Ice Queen over there can summon a demon!” He paused for a moment, before glancing at her and mumbling a quiet “no offense.” She shrugged, but the pain in her eyes was more alarming than her lack of response. 

“You closed the other portals, yes?” Vergil said.

“Of course I did,” Nero said. “Because unlike you, I’m not a useless asshole.”

Vergil stared at him, fingers tightening on Yamato. He felt his jaw clench and quickly fought to bury any other reaction to his son’s words. He expected to be angry or find a reason to fight. Vergil assumed he would have something to say to such an accusation. But any response he might have had vanished before it reached his tongue. Instead, a deep stinging pain pierced right through his heart. His mind flashed to his imprisonment, and he tore his gaze away before it consumed him. He would not let Nero see his weakness. Not now. Not like this. Not when Nero already hated him, and not when Vergil didn’t know how to fix it. 

But what could he do? Nothing he said could fix this. Nothing he did…

“Vergil?”

His eyes snapped to Roxy’s as she pulled away from a very worried Nico. The dragon was gone, and her hair had returned to its light blue hue. Aki hovered toward Vergil with a concerned chirp, but Roxy whistled and the demon returned to her shoulder. And as she slowly made her way toward them - no slump, but a slight limp. Clearly in need of more demonic energy- Vergil wanted to walk away. He didn’t want the questions, nor did he know what to tell her. This was all moving too fast, even for him.

This was a mistake. He couldn’t even get along with his own son. What right did he have to make friends with someone like her? How did he dare consider pursuing this new information when he hadn’t atoned for all his past mistakes? But how did he tell her this? How did…

Then, she turned to Nero and bowed her head. Vergil froze, surprised. Nero stared at her, confused. “It was my fault,” She said. “Not his.” Nero’s eyes widened and his mouth opened to respond, but Roxy continued. “I should have been able to handle it, but I misjudged the amount of energy I was carrying.” When she lifted her head, her back spasmed, but she held herself together. In fact, Vergil was certain Nero hadn’t noticed a thing. 

“It’s not… that…” This was the first time Nero had ever looked embarrassed as far as Vergil could remember, but his anger had completely diminished. “I didn’t mean to doubt you,” He said hastily. “I mean that demon of yours is pretty cool… no pun intended,” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Come on, devil-boy!” Nico said as she dropped her arms over both his and Vergil’s shoulders. Honestly, he was more annoyed that he hadn’t noticed her move between them. “Let’s go check in on your uncle. Your old man’s got plenty to take care of himself.”

Nero frowned as he pulled himself out of Nico’s awkward, three-man hug, but he didn’t look at Vergil again. “Fine,” He said. “It was nice meeting you.” Vergil could hear his voice crack, caught between the genuine desire to be nice and his anger toward his father. He finally gave up and hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door, flinching as he did so. 

Nico gave a dramatic sigh as she pat Vergil on the back. “You’ll take care of your Ice Queen, right V-man?” She winked at Roxy who blushed and looked away. Vergil paused, his mind drifting back to his worries. Was this… alright? Was this… fair? Should he continue on with this friendship after everything…?

He twitched when Nico quite literally smacked him upside the head. “Excuse me?” He said, glaring at her. 

“Restarting those gears in your head,” She said as she followed after Nero. “See ya later, right Rox?” 

The woman blinked before her gaze fell to the other woman. “As long as I get to drive,” She said. 

“Hell no!” Nico said with a laugh. “I’m the best driver around.”

Roxy looked like she believed that about as much as she believed she could jump to the moon. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her small smile was genuine, at the very least. That was much better than Vergil could manage at the moment. At least the tightness in his chest was starting to ease the more he had time to breathe. And Roxy stepping toward him was… comforting. That same, interested spark returned when she stood beside him in Nico’s place, and the pain in his chest vanished completely when she met his gaze with that same confident smile.

“How do you do it?” Vergil muttered.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Vergil blinked, unaware he had spoken aloud to begin with. He glanced at the van one last time, but Nero didn’t look back as Nico drove away. Vergil took a long deep breath, and he could almost hear Griffon’s voice pulsing in the back of his head. 

Ya ain’t gonna give up like that, right, my lady?

Vergil shoved the bird aside and looked back at her. “You need more essence, yes?”

She sighed. “Seems that way. Guess I miscalculated.” 

“There are some demons left behind,” Vergil said. “I can weaken them for you, but you’ll have to find the strength to kill them yourself.”

She nodded. “Lead the way.”

[zdbztumble]

“Reverse/Rebirth” revisited

I’ve mentioned a few times now that, in this look back at the Kingdom Hearts series, I’ve finally come to like Riku as a character. That’s in part due to seeing everything in context again several years after my last play-through, but another thing that helped put things into perspective was a LP by YouTube’s Frustrated Jacob. He worded Riku’s story in a way I could finally grasp: that Riku sees himself, and is treated, as mature and trustworthy, but ultimately proves himself to be selfish, insecure, and childish, while Sora is a more childlike underdog who ultimately proves to be mature, responsible, and heroic. Riku does, of course, redeem himself after realizing to what end he’s being used for, and with the context straight in my head, I could finally appreciate that story on an emotional level, instead of conceding its technical merits but remaining cold to Riku himself.

Given all that, I was curious to see if my opinion on Reverse/Rebirth would change after playing though it again. As it turns out, it did change - for the worse.

My issues with the gameplay remain. I just couldn’t enjoy the card-based battle system without having the option to customize. Besides taking a lot of the fun away, it made troubleshooting against challenging bosses (which, I’ll admit, there aren’t many) more hassle than it needed to be. Riku’s lack of magic or summon abilities is another thing that just makes for a less fun game. The limited number of sleights available in Dark Mode gave some little bit of variety, but I so rarely needed to use Dark Mode that it wasn’t worth dragging out battles to build up the meter.

Riku does pack a lot of power in his attacks - that was the reason I hardly ever needed Dark Mode. This makes much of the game a cakewalk, even compared to the later stages of CoM proper, but the difficulty spike in the boss battles with Zexion and Ansem are ridiculous. The decks you get against them are pathetic, and their abilities are overwhelming. Having a real challenge was a nice change of pace at first, but the disparity is too great.

And I still can’t get over the way this game’s “worlds” are structured. My memory of this game was that Riku got all the same world cards as Sora, in reverse order (except for the last three floors), which would at least make some sense, tying into the “reverse” of the title. But they aren’t strictly in reverse order; some of the Disney worlds aren’t even in the same set. And Riku wasn’t in most of those worlds. There shouldn’t be any memory cards of those places for him. The game does acknowledge this, in a sense, by leaving out any Disney characters from these worlds. But that’s another problem with R/R: nothing happens for most of it. If the Disney worlds in CoM didn’t tie in to the larger story except in a thematic sense, they at least had self-contained plots that gave you something to follow. Riku just wanders through rooms here, to no aim.

Like with CoM, there was a missed opportunity to give the Disney worlds more connection to the plot. Riku was in Monstro, Neverland, and Hollow Bastion, after all, and spent most of KH I in Maleficent’s thrall. Having him deal with the memories of that - of his actions, of his alliance with a confederation of Disney villains - would have provided story material and illustrated his dilemma more effectively than cutscene after cutscene with blather about the darkness (and yes, I know this series is notorious for this - but even by KH standards, the word “darkness” is abused to all hell in this game. I’m not sure how they could have avoided that, given what Riku’s story is here, but it was still excessive). At the very least, Maleficent should have been a recurring character in Riku’s memories. Wasting her as the start-up boss is still an unfathomable decision to me.

Really, the lack of content is enough to make one wonder if this story warranted its own title. To call it the “B side” to Sora’s story in CoM suggests more than it can provide. If it had been cut down to just those three Disney worlds Riku actually visited, with more story content for them and cleaner writing for the larger story, the ten hours the game took (compared to just under 40 for CoM proper) might have felt worth it, instead of rushed and empty. But at that length, I would’ve just presented it as a bonus mini-game to be unlocked after a certain level of completion, not as a B-story you get to play no matter what.

As with CoM, I have to take issue with the villains here. I’m convinced now that his battle in this game is the only reason anyone remembered Zexion well enough to justify giving him a backstory, because there’s nothing else to his character, or to Lexeaus. I may not have liked the villains of CoM, but I can concede that Axel, Vexen, and Larxene are memorable (and no, I didn’t forget Marluxia - he’s off the memorable list for a reason XP). These two are devoid of even one major identifiable personality trait (and I would note that Zexion’s backstory hasn’t solved this problem). I suppose Zexion staging an elaborate illusion of Sora to torment Riku rather than killing him outright might qualify as sadism - if it were played as such, and if Larxene hadn’t claimed that territory, so that whole sequence doesn’t have a lot of foundation. Though I will concede that, prior to the realizing it made no sense, I found the impersonation of Sora an effective story beat that fed well into Riku’s fears.

Of course, the ultimate antagonist in R/R isn’t anyone from the Organization, but the darkness still within Riku, and the trace that “Ansem” left on him. Whether this Ansem is meant to be the real deal, or some residual trace or memory, I was never quite clear, but in any event, the solution to the conflict turns out to be that Riku chooses neither to reject the darkness nor succumb to it, but to straddle the line between light and dark, a trait unique to himself in this series. That’s been criticized as an idea, but I don’t object to it in principle, the same way I don’t reject efforts to move Star Wars beyond a black-and-white conception of the Force. But in execution, there’s a lot wrong with it.

1. With hindsight, we can see that it was never really followed up on. Darkness = evil in the first KH game, and that’s been true for the games that have followed R/R. For this idea to really work, it would’ve needed follow-up that it never got.

2. That this idea comes to Riku from Namine of all people feels extremely abrupt. Granted, if I were writing a story about someone learning that light and dark sides to their soul could co-exist extrapolated into a fantasy setting, I would want the revelation to feel abrupt at first glance, with hindsight showing seeding throughout the story. That seeding isn’t here, and Namine is an awkward choice to deliver the message to Riku given that they have no connection prior to this point in the story.

3. Namine’s line about how “no power can defeat [Riku]” makes no sense to me. He’s defeated throughout these games by light and dark powers. A lot of the wording of the dialogue on this plot point just seems designed to try and make Riku seem more special and marked by destiny. Of course, this ignores the element of the first game where Riku appearing to be the person suited to a great destiny was part of the problem.

4. On that note - as has been pointed out to me by @themattress​, Riku declaring himself unafraid and accepting of the darkness, and using it to ends he found right, was what led him down the path to possession in the first game. Now, I do think there’s reason to doubt his bravado in that scene in KH I; his pretense at maturity and confidence both fall pretty quickly when his jealousy and paranoia of Sora set in. But it is true that Riku accepts, embraces, and abuses the darkness in KH I, and what fears he does have aren’t tied to that. I still wouldn’t say I object to R/R trying to twist that idea around in principle, but just as it needed more follow-up to work properly, it needed more set-up than this game provided to work properly.

In a way, though, the biggest fault with this plot point is that it doesn’t really impact Riku’s behavior all that much. I’ve seen some critiques that praise Riku’s development in this game over Sora’s, and I can’t say I understand that. You can like Sora’s story in CoM or not, but he experiences a lot and undergoes dramatic changes over the course of that story. Riku here is pretty static. While I’m now fully on-board with his arc in KH I, I’m afraid I still find him rather bland here.

To be honest, the best bit of story content in R/R IMO isn’t even concerned with Riku; it’s a cutscene that expands on Sora’s story. It’s the scene I wanted in that story, where Namine calls herself “the shadow of Kairi” and explains how her messing with Sora’s memories of Kairi can’t truly erase them. When the best story beat in the B-story is an expansion on the A-plot, you know you have trouble.

And then there are the things about R/R that are just weird - turning Riku and Zexion into bloodhounds comes to mind. Has that whole “scent” business ever really come up sense?

So, that’s where I stand with R/R now: it’s unimpressive fare and wasted potential. Playing through it again has actually forced me to give some new credit to Dream Drop Distance. I still consider that game a worse story, and more damaging to the series overall, but there are two points I must concede to it: 

1. It handled two player characters much better than CoM and R/R did. Whether they were any good or not, the game gave Sora and Riku each stories to follow in the Disney worlds, enough content to fill out a full game, and tied them together in such a way that one didn’t feel like the superfluous B-side to the other.

2. I thought DDD was where the retconning of Sora and Riku’s friendship began, but it was here in R/R, with Riku describing Sora as someone who “always did as he pleased” and setting up the idea of he, Riku, being the responsible one. Granted, he’s being rather jokey when he says this, but accusing Sora of being the lazy one while he does all the work just rubs me the wrong way. When I thought that DDD was the one to introduce this change, I could at least credit it that such a retcon helped explain their dynamic in that game. But now I just can’t understand why they went down this road. Everyone who played the first game spent the first few levels on Destiny Islands, working on the raft as Sora. And Riku complaining about anyone else “doing as they please” at this point in the series, when we’re only one game removed from him plotting to run away and never come home (embracing the power of darkness to do so) while Sora took on the responsibility of being the Keyblade Master without protest is really pushing it.

Well, that’s that. No need to revisit that game for a long time. Now, on to KH II - the one I’m most interested in replaying. Will it hold up as well as KH I did? Only time will tell...

[boneybabbles]

A book I will never write: Project 1

The air smelled of ale, greasy burgers, overcooked onion rings, and fumes. The thin, swinging wooden doors that led straight to the tavern next door did not keep out the rowdy noise of the crowd within. As glass shattered, shouts got louder, and the sound of bone on bone drifted from beyond the doors and thin walls, Andromeda looked out of the grimy window at the cloudless, dark purple sky. In all the hours she had been stuck in this stuffy, stinky store, kept away from the gorgeous open sky; there had only been one customer. 

A too chirpy vacationing couple that used this rotting store as a quick pit stop.

 “Have you ever taken the summer to roadtrip to all the planets?” they said.  

“Do you know if any of the Great Attractions are good along the way?” Inquired the tall male with a spiked hair and the common opalescent skin. 

The female next to him, equally tall but instead with rough, red skin and black rope like hair had the gall to ask 

“What kind of girl is stuck here for the summer, instead of being out with her friends?”. Andromeda begrudgingly replied politely to all their questions as they paid for their snacks, drinks, and a map. Even though all she wanted to do was snap back at them, she had a paycheck that she desperately wanted. 

Once the couple climbed into their rounded ship and glided away, there had been not a soul since. Unless you count the usual brutes in the tavern as customers.

Andromeda sighed what was probably the longest and heaviest sigh in history. The sigh was so long that by the end of it, her lungs burned and she might as well have been spitting fire. She turned from the pathetic and grimy window to the clock that sat above the squeaky glass door. Tick.. Tick… Tick…. The seconds seemed to taunt her, letting her know she still had two miserable hours left of her horrid shift in this disgusting fuel-stop shop. Andromeda would much rather spend these slow hours at home with Horus. 

She looked around the small, cluttered, dusty, repulsive fuel-stop store. It's a wonder this place is still open she thought while she leaned onto the front counter. The cluttered aisles were pushed too close together. The floor was more dirt, grime and gods knows what than actual flooring. And usually dead rodents could be found in the corners around the store!

 The only source of income were the nasty freighters that stopped by once or twice a week depending on their shipping routes. The freighters were more strongly built beasts, then civilized beings. They all smelled, they all had dirty, foul mouths (not that Andromeda was much better) and she doubted any of them knew what manners even were. Still, they mostly only came for the tavern next door and the freighter parking where they could park to get a few hours of sleep before they were off again. 

At last, Andromeda’s shift was over! She was already out the door before the next employee even crossed the nasty store’s threshold. She ran for where her hoverboard was tucked behind the back of the store, a long sleek oval of metal that could zoom a few feet above the ground because of Aristaeus strong magnetic core. Without hesitation Andromeda jumped on her board and zoomed out of the lot, the desert terrain of the planet's surface whizzing under her as she raced home under the forever purple sky. 

The ride home was filled with wind, dust, and the endless starway beneath her. As soon as Andromeda glided into the sandy grounds of her family's home, she ditched her board near the stucco house and ran straight for the matching barn. 

The barn had a feed room, tack room, a loft, and ten stalls. Only seven used for mytaugh. Mytaugh were horse like creatures that might be the outcome if someone were to mix a draft horse with a plant that sprouted from starlight. They were beautiful creatures that came in infinite colors and patterns with personalities just as unique. Mytaugh are esteemed beings because they choose only one person to bond and ride with forever. It is an honor to be chosen by a mytaugh. 

When Andromeda reached the plain rock barn, she went straight to Horus. He whipped his large powerful head around and let out a small, happy screech when the oblivious mytaugh finally realized his person was home. 

Andromeda slipped into Horus's stall and began petting the large mytaugh. The two were complete opposites. Night and day, dusk and dawn, water and fire, air and earth. 

Horus was tall with a dark blue coat, so dark it was almost black. He had small specks of lilac on his rump and sock-like markings on his ankle in the same light shade. He was built more like his ancient ancestors, the stocky draft horse, than the wispy, dainty, lithe creatures they were mixed with. Andromeda, on the other hand, was short with light skin. She was so short, she often had to look up at everyone even though she was fully grown, just like them. She had an extremely light opalescent skin shade that was light even for Aristaeus’ standards. Furthermore, she had no interesting markings or traits. And her build was lean and fast, almost like she should play the sports she was oh so bad at. 

Andromeda stood there just petting Horus for a while. Finally she vaulted her way onto his back ditching her harness, leaving it in the tack room. Horus walked toward the stall door and turned, allowing Andromeda to unlock it and swing it open. Just like that the two were off, racing out the barn and across the front grounds of their home. They ran and ran and ran until they peaked the top of a very tall hill that led to a wide open plain. 

The two went to plain almost daily. Its right behind their family's house after climbing the large hill that hides it from sight. Horus slowed at Andromeda's command and the two stood there looking down on the great stretch of land below. The sassy mytaugh stamped his leg and in an instant his voice was in Andromeda's mind. 

"You're not the one standing. Aka doing all the work! Might want to correct that thought of yours."

She rolled her eyes at his outburst. Ok, so they weren't standing on the ridge looking down at the plain. Horus was standing proudly on the ridge while Andromeda sat on his back looking over the plain. He could be so sassy and passive aggressive at times. It was quite funny. Andromeda thought. 

With one more thought directed towards Horus, the two were off loping down the hill, moving as one. The hill was tall and steep so Horus had to zigzag down it. 

When they reached the base of the hill and the large, sandy, rocky plain, Horus and Andromeda paused.  The pair paused there, breathing deeply, feeling each others hearts beat, listening to both of their silent minds. Just like that, as one, they took off like a bullet. They raced across the flat land, eating up the ground before them. Andromeda moved flawlessly with Horus's natural movements. They moved as one. One body, one heart, one mind. Horus let out a thunderous screech of delight. 

After hours of running, jumping and playing, Andromeda was left lying on the ground. Horus was behind her laying down also. Andromeda had her head resting on his side like he was a pillow. She was looking up at the sky as it faded into the universe's natural state. Soon it would be covered in stars that would light up Aristaeus surface with a faint blue glow.  

Andromeda laid there thinking. She thought about her job, her summer break, and her non existent friends. She also thought about her family. This brought with it, feelings of anger, sadness, and worry. All of a sudden there was a voice inside her head that made her jump. It was Horus. 

"You know," he said "just because I wiggle my way into your mind doesn't mean I dont feel your emotions too. Honestly you should know this. We are bonded after all, I chose you."

Andromeda made a humming noise agreeing that yes, sadly he could feel her emotions too. Horus continued,

"So it would be nice if you would not worry so much. I'm ready to throw up already! How are you not sick from all that worrying you're doing?"

"You're not funny and I am sick from it." Andromeda grumbled. 

She got up and sat on Horus's back then laid down so her head was resting on his rump as she continued to keep looking up at the sky. 

"Come on," She thought to the mytaugh. "Let's go home." 

Horus walked straight into his stall with Andromeda still on him. Andromeda slid off Horus’s tall form. She slowly made her way to the stall door and right before she closed it a familiar voice filled her head. Horus had been quiet on the short ride home but apparently now he had something to say. 

“It will be ok,” His mind's voice said “Whatever it is, it will be ok in the end.” 

Andromeda stared at him in shock, the stall door still half open in her hands. 

“W-what?” She stuttered “Don't you already know what it is? You're always in my head listening to me.”

“I'm always in your head but i'm not always listening. That would be so rude! Can you imagine if I was listening to you all these years! I probably would've died from your overactive imagination when we were younger.” The mytaugh ranted. 

He had a point. Horus was a yearling and Andromeda was six when he chose her. At that time in her life she was a very weird nurseling and most of the time her mind would run rampant. That was over a decade ago. But right now she was still shocked that he didn't know what she was stressing about. 

“Oh.. well.. Thank you.”  She grumbled 

Andromeda closed the stall door and meandered from the barn towards her family's house in the dark of night. Sleepily she picked up her hoverboard to carry into her room. 

She climbed up the dark wooden stairs that lead to the low front porch. The front porch was covered with a roof that was made of the same dark wood that made up the stairs and floor of the porch. The house itself was a white stucco single story dwelling, modeled after the architecture of the ancient worlds. It had many square windows all along the house to let in the light from Aten during the day and glowed yellow from light within at night. The front door was a very dark wood, almost black looking. It had beautiful carvings in it telling different stories in different landscapes. Stories lost long, long ago in the ancient world. Andromeda touched the gold colored handle and the door swung open into the house. It revealed a shouting match in the living room. 

Calypso and Vega, Andromeda’s sisters, were screaming and hitting each other with pillows from the couch. At the sound of the door, Andromeda's twin looked up from his position on the couch. It looked like he’d been watching the two while they raged on.  

Andromeda ignored her sisters shouts as she walked to the hallway on her right that led to her room. She stopped in her room to prop her hoverboard against the wall and grab one other thing. 

By the time she came back out to living room, the burgundy couch Atlas had been sitting on was turned over, pillows all over the floor, the mustard colored chair closest to their fake fire holder, was in two; and the other burgundy couch that was closest to Andromeda was now a wrestling ring for her sisters. 

Andromeda walked in front of the whole scene to get a better vantage point. It turns out, Atlas was still on the turned over couch reading as if nothing happened. Contrary, Calypso was now on top of Vega trying to do, honestly, gods knows what. 

Andromeda took the stick out of little ball she was holding, threw it near her sisters, and covered her ears. 

The small ball let out a loud piercing noise that hurt everyone's eardrums. The sound was deafening and shrill. It was so loud the whole planet could probably hear it. At the sound, Calypso fell off of Vega and the couch while covering her ears. Vega just gave Andromeda a hateful glare while covering her ears. 

The small noise grenade died off seconds later. Now it was time for Andromeda to make noise. She stared at her siblings from where she stood at the front of this mess. 

“Where are mum and dad?” Andromeda started off with. 

“They are out tending a sick Caw somewhere at some farm.” Atlas replied half interested. He didn't even bother looking at her as he said it. A Caw was a large air animal that somehow flew despite its awkward wings. They also produced milk that was drank throughout most planets. 

“Do we know how long they are going to be gone?” She continued.  

This time Vega answered her with venom in her tone. “They may be gone all night. The Caw is sick and expecting a babe.” 

Andromeda sighed at that. Sometimes their parents chose the wrong times to be amazing vets. 

“Ok,” Andromeda drawled. “Then why were you two fighting?” She said while jerking her chin at her sisters. 

Calypso was still on the ground glaring at Andromeda like she was ready to kill her. Andromeda stare her eldest sister down waiting for an answer. Atlas sighed from the other side of the room as he picked up a pillow. He threw it at Calypso as he walked out of the room towards the kitchen. It hit the side of her head and she blinked. At that, Calypso caved and said, “Vega said that ancient humans were smart and most likely intellectual creatures,” Calypso looked towards Vega. “even though our scientist proved they were all as good as pigs! So I started a debate with her to show her how stupid she was being.”  

“So you two had to start killing each other!?” Andromeda's voice was so loud it was almost screaming but she quieted down for her next reaction. “You two are brilliant but yet you choose to fight!? You debate the creature that's undoing was violence, yet you practice the same thing? Honestly you two should be appalled at yourselves and I shouldn't have to even say this to you! Why can’t you two go debate peacefully without hitting each other, just stick to yelling.”  She fumed at both of her  sisters. Vega and Calypso were both older than herself yet sometimes she was the only one that could think straight. 

“We may fight like humans but at least we don't work at a fuel stop like some heathen.” Vega seethed at Andromeda. “We also have friends and we all know when it comes to school, Cal and I excel while you… flounder at best.”

Andromeda grit her teeth and clenched her jaw. She could play dirty with them if she wanted to. Instead, “Just stop hitting each other. Fight and debate if you wish, I don't care.” She snarled before stomping to the kitchen to the left of her. 

Andromeda passed through the arch made of dark brown wood, into the kitchen. It’s warm yellow walls were adorned with pictures and paintings. The large round table in front of the windows, was painted black and made to look like their solar system with a beautiful and bright Aten in the middle. The countertops and cabinets were sleek and sterile, made of some kind of dark metal Andromeda did not understand. Despite the harshness of the metal, Andromeda loved this room the most because it felt the most warm and inviting. Not that the rest of the house wasn't. Cherika, Andromeda’s mother, loved ancient looking things so she decorated the family home like an ancient human home. It was inviting and plush. Made for comfort, not practicality. This happened to be one of the things Andromeda’s father, Loni, loved about Cherika and made him fall for her. 

Atlas was sitting on top of the island in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bright green and yellow fruit. He acknowledged her presence but said nothing. The two might be twins but you'd never know it by the way they looked and acted. Most of the time Atlas pretended Andromeda didn't exist. Andromeda made her way to the freezing box to grab leftovers from the night before. She heated the food up making enough for 2 people. Throwing it on plates, Andromeda walked to the gorgeous table to start eating. On the way to the table, Andromeda shoved one of the plates at her brother who begrudgingly took it and followed her to the table.  

They ate in silence. Andromeda kept to her own thoughts thinking about different things. She started to wish Horus could reach her mind all the way in the house. If he could they'd be talking right now. Instead Andromeda and Atlas sat in suffocating silence. Atlas finished his plate and as he got up to put it away, he said “Vega is right you know. I don't get why you work at that abomination of a fuel station or why your grades are so low. I mean you remember stuff but yet you still get fails in almost every class. So really, if you are that bad you shouldn't be appalled at them. At least they are doing something with their lives.”

With that Atlas left probably going to his room. Andromeda sat there with wet eyes just staring at the bright yellow Aten on the table. 

The room was suddenly colder and it seemed like the lights dimmed even though they did not. Staring down at Aten, her food completely forgotten, Andromeda looked at its bright yellow and orange and red flames. The middle was a yellow and orange circle that had a pleasant and inviting face on it. Off of the circle was Aten’s magnificent rays of light. All of them were wavy and came to a point but each one was different shade of orange or yellow with the occasional red. All around the edge of the table were the nine planets that made up our solar system. Balder, The planet of dreamers. Bragi, The planet of scholars and writings. Isis, The planet of the Seers and healers. Ptah, The planet full of inventors and scientists. Aristaeus, The planet of agriculture and animal husbandry. Pallas, The planet of Military Associations.  Kanaloa, The planet that distributes water throughout planets and nurtures all aquatic beings; Also the planet that is most like the ancient homeland, Earth. Uli, The planet of Philosophy and wisdom. Lastly, The planet the galaxy depends on most, Themis. The planet of Law and Justice.  

Andromeda always wanted to visit the other eight planets but knew she probably never would. That never stopped her from dreaming though. Late at night when Andromeda was laying in bed or when she would ride with Horus, She would wonder about which planet she would belong on most. Most people in her galaxy would spend about a year traveling the planets to see where they fit in most to continue their lives doing what they love. Statistics from Ptah show, that for every person that leaves their home planet, there were two that stay. Not because the person couldn't get off of their planet but because that was truly what they loved and had no interest in pursuing anything else. Andromeda knew that her sisters would probably go to Ptah and Uli. She also knew that her brother would probably go to Pallas or stay here on Aristaeus. What Andromeda didn't know though, was where she was going to go. 

She felt something wet fall on her hand. Andromeda looked down at the water droplets on her hand in surprise. She hadn't realized she was crying.  She hadn't even realised she was sad. That was because andromeda was not sad but in fact furious. The tear of rage quickly sizzled off her hot, enraged skin with a quick hiss.  How dare Atlas say that about her! At least she was doing something with her life! And she was just as capable of school projects as the three of them. Andromeda just happened to not particularly care about them. And if she ever wanted to admit it, which she would but probably never out loud, She was probably better than all three of her siblings. As Andromeda thought these things, her blood was practically boiling. She stood up so fast from the lovely table that the dark wooden chair fell backwards. Andromeda grabbed her plate and threw it into the sink with more force than needed before stomping off across house. She stalked and stomped through the odd kitchen of her home, through the half wrecked yet still beautiful living room, through the dark hallway covered in pictures and paintings, all the way to her room. Andromeda entered her room and slammed the door to the point of it almost coming off of its magnetic hinges.  Upon entering her room Andromeda looked around at the soft purple walls that matched Horus’s markings. She looked at her hoverboard that she had painted and drawn on so it would really seem like hers and not just a scrap of metal. She looked at her scale of their galaxy hanging in the corner of her room that she used to fall asleep watching every night. She looked at the pictures on top of the set of drawers that stood in front of her sleep pod. The hologram pictures that constantly blinked between art pieces she loved, her friends, and Horus. That was when her raging fire calmed down. Andromeda slumped against her room's door and sat there thinking about how to fix this. 

Andromeda hastily jumped up and practically ran to her tall armoire. She grabbed her black satchel and hastily filled it. Andromeda paused in front of her hoverboard and looked at her Epikoi checking the time. It was 2400  which meant she had half of a standard galactic hour left. Andromeda grabbed the board and silently bolted to the barn with her bag on her left shoulder. 

Upon reaching the barn doors, Andromeda propped her hoverboard against one and plunked her satchel next to it. She deftly opened the other barn door and crept through the semi darkness to Horus’s stall. The brilliant mytaugh was illuminated by the blue tinted light from the billion of stars that made Aristaeus glow at night. Andromeda crept into the stall and started to pet the mytaugh until he roused seconds later. She lovingly grabbed Horus’s large head as his voice filled her mind. 

“What could you possibly want at this ungodly hour, human. I am trying to get my beauty sleep.” If mytaugh were capable of facial expressions like smiling, Andromeda had no doubt the creature would be smirking. 

“Well,” she started whispering while stroking Horus’s long nose. “I just wanted to tell you that: once I can, I will send for you. But until then, please just wait and don't bite anyone's arm off when you get prissy.” she winked. With that, Andromeda wriggled out of the stall not waiting for a response and back out into the open night. She didn't hesitate as she slung the satchel over her body and hopped on her hoverboard zooming off of her family’s ground, onto the seemly endless starway, retracing the path she took earlier. 

When Andromeda reached the dusty fuel-stop parking area where there were about two dozen freighter ships parked, she hopped off of her board and began to look around. When she finally found the green and orange ship she was looking for, she tucked her board behind it where it would be hidden and ran off to the nasty tavern that had yellow light streaming from its ever dirty windows. 

The tavern was almost as bad as the store she worked in next door. The only reason it was better was because the wooden floor was washed clean from the puddles of spilled ale on it and the smell of fried foods almost hid the unworldly smell of the nasty freighters. The bell above the door rang as Andromeda entered but either no one in the large crowd heard or cared. The bar at the back was packed with brutes twice her size, half of them them singing an off key bawdy tune obviously intoxicated. To her left some tables had been pushed together and a large drunken card game was going on around what seemed to be two players fighting probably for losing to one another. And to her right were various dimly lit booths and tables with different freighters seated at them drinking, eating, talking, or sleeping. The tavern itself was modern enough but the wooden panels lining each wall suggested this place was originally built to feel old. 

Andromeda searched the tables and booths for one specific mass of muscle. She cut across the dingy tavern and slid down in the booth right across from him. In the yellow tinted light Andromeda looked over the man’s bright opalescent skin, that was taking on the same tint as the lighting above. He wore dark clothing contrasting his flawless skin but matching his styled hair. When Andromeda finally looked up he was smirking at her and had a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Hello Elon” Andromeda purred and smiled. 

Elon was still smirking as his rich baritone filled her ears. “What do I owe this visit to, dear?” 

Andromeda scoffed and sat back. “Can I not visit my favorite brute without there being a reason?” She said. “But while we are on the subject I need a favor.” 

Andromeda was taking a gamble but she knew that out of any freighter she had ever seen stop here, Elon was the one most likely to help her. He was only about two years older than her and already found his job. They met on his first run to Pallas from Ptah. The young man had stopped in the freighter lot not knowing it was huge mistake.  He had walked into the store to buy a soda but after talking to Andromeda, who was behind the counter that day, he decided against it. A wise choice. That had been a year ago and since then, Elon would stop at the tavern and store whenever he could. The two had become something like friends in his stops and messaging when he was away. 

Elon chuckled at that. “I knew there had to be a reason for you to show your beautiful face.” 

“Alright Elon, stop flirting.” At this his posture changed. He sat up straight and was no longer smirking as Andromeda continued, her voice not a lovely, devious, tone anymore. “I'm trying to fix a problem I have and I was wondering if you let me ride with you to your next stop.” 

Elon sat back in his chair and studied her. His face unreadable. He was watching her so long she was about to squirm when he finally said, “Kanaloa is my stop then back up to Ptah.” 

“That's fine.” Andromeda replied probably too quickly. 

Elon nodded but was obviously still thinking things through. Yet all he said in reply was, “Why.” Andromeda don't know what seemed liked the blow she felt. Was it the question itself? Was it his deep baritone laced with curiosity and worry in a way that made it seem soft but harsh at the same time? Or maybe it was him staring so intently at her. Andromeda didn't know but despite herself she just stared at him. 

“I have a problem. I am trying to fix that problem and the way to fix it is to get away from it.” she said keeping her words short and frank. 

Elon sighed seeming exhausted still staring at her. Andromeda stared back at him and realized that in this moment he somehow seemed older. More burdened maybe. Definitely older in some way. He slid out the chair while saying “We leave early. Now.” and then walking away. Andromeda trailed Elon out of the tavern the cool night air hitting her face the moment the pair pushed through the Taverns front doors. Elon led  Andromeda to his green and orange freighter ship. She grabbed her Hover board and pack, throwing them into the back and then hauling herself into the front of the large ship next to Elon. Elon glanced at her as he started up the ship but kept his eyes ahead as they flew onto the endless starway. The only thing illuminating the two and the starway was the gorgeously cold blue light from the stars high above. 

The starway was...

-Boney

[lightandwinged]

Endgame happened!

Spoiler free: easily the best superhero movie I’ve ever seen, mindblowing in the best possible way, I cried like a little baby so much, and while it wasn’t perfect, I still think that it hit all the right beats and hit them correctly in a way that should genuinely make the DCU sit down and think about how it will never be this good.

(spoilers beneath the cut!)

WHEW LADS

I spoiled myself for this movie, so I knew basically everything that was coming and every beat the movie would hit, and I did that because I like to know how many tissues I’m going to need by the end of the night (the answer was that I haven’t needed that many since Return of the King, holy shit). I’d also seen a lot of the early criticism, and while I agree with some of it (I’ll get to it), the rest was eh to me. 

The only thing I did NOT like was Thor’s arc, which it seemed like straddled the line between funny and sad a little too much. Like, it was genuinely sad because you could tell that this was his manifestation of PTSD: letting himself go completely, hiding away from the world, drinking beer and playing video games all day. I felt like it was less that it was played for laughs and more that people just thought it was funny because it was just too sad to accept. And Thor in-universe wanted people to think it was funny because accepting that it wasn’t hurt too much. At the same time, I don’t know how they could’ve done the arc better with the time they had. The movie was already bursting at the seams at 3 hours long, and there was so much happening. I REALLY HOPE that the way the film hinted at Thor joining up with the Guardians of the Galaxy isn’t just a red herring, because I will absolutely buy a thousand tickets to see that on opening night. And if he is in Guardians 3 (side note: I wonder if that’s why GotG3 suddenly spiked as people’s most anticipated upcoming MCU film?), I feel like that will allow him a little more room to react to Things.

Tony’s entire arc was perfect, beyond perfect. It blew me away, and I genuinely feel like RDJ should be nominated for an Oscar for it, if nothing else than for the sheer scope of the performance. It was absolutely heartbreaking, but it was also done so well--Tony’s entire story has been this kind of fear of death in one way or another, so in the end, having him accept his own death to save the universe was fantastic. And I knew he was going to die, even without reading spoilers (RDJ’s contract is up, after all), but it still hit me so hard when he did. 

Steve’s arc felt really good, too, though I know a lot of people have had problems with it. It felt earned, and it felt deserved, and I was perfectly fine with hand waving all the possible issues his ending caused because he looked like Fred Rogers at the end. His entire story has always been a reverse of Tony’s: he’s never feared death and has always had a willingness to die, but he wanted something that his conscience never allowed him to have (that being a normal, peaceful life). Him finally allowing himself that peace felt right. 

(and he 100% cleared it with Bucky beforehand, every single aspect of it, from “but wouldn’t going back to have that dance with Peggy break time?” to “but you’re being tortured while I’m dancing???” and I guarantee Bucky was like “bitch, if you don’t do this, I am going to dust you”)

Looking at the Nat thing, that felt inevitable, and it was the first thing that made me cry. It also felt like a huge culmination of her arc. Her entire story through these movies has been to try and wipe away the red in her ledger, and I doubt that anything she ever did would’ve been enough in her mind. Like looking through the writing of the story, she did feel like the best option for the soul stone, and her death hit me WAY harder than Gamora’s, because on Gamora’s part, you understood that Thanos’ love for her wasn’t the kind of love that would’ve fought to be the one to sacrifice himself for her. Clint loves Natasha, as much as she loves him, and to see him lose her so soon after losing his family (well. Film-wise, at least) was wrenching. And Jeremy Renner was AMAZING in this. He looked so haunted. Good job, dude.

I still really like Thanos as a villain, because he remains one of the few movie villains who’s actually read the Evil Overlord Checklist, so victory against him isn’t because he fucked up somewhere along the way (he knows that turning into a snake never helps) but because it was a contest of wills, and the heroes’ will was stronger than his. That makes their victory feel properly earned, and not narratively forced. 

Odds and ends: 

Steve wielding Mjolnir made our entire audience scream and clap so very loud, and I’m glad one of the view good bits in AoU paid off in a major way.

Thor getting lightning powers will always be very sexy to me. 

That final battle was legit the best I’ve ever seen, including Helm’s Deep and Pelennor. The sight of everyone coming out of the magic yellow portals looked exactly like a comic book spread, and I really hope Stan Lee got to see a cut of it before he died. 

I appreciated the moment of Carol being escorted through the battlefield by the (admittedly, depressingly small) entire cast of women who’ve played a major role in these movies and were still alive (including the Wasp, who was my favorite because she spent the entire battle like “???? what the fuck is even happening? I guess I’m here now?”). 

All of the five years post snap scenes were haunting, in that “life after people” kind of way. I LOVED Scott wandering through the neighborhood that’s all overgrown and a mess, with no idea what’s happened or what any of it means. 

I also loved that all the time shenanigans basically set up “here is how we’re dealing with there being 72 different versions of these characters in the comic books, also here is why Loki, Scarlet Witch, and Vision are able to have their own series, even though 2/3 of that sentence is dead.”

Really, I’m just a slut for time travel shenanigans. 

And Thor and Captain Marvel. Brie Larson looks SO good with short hair. Help.

I just also loved that even though they planned their time travel adventures down to the second, they still managed to fuck it up royally because, at the end of the day, these guys are just a bunch of a-holes. 

Anyway. I am emotionally compromised. This movie felt like a real finale, and it was a good finale. It gave me the same vibes that Return of the King gave me back in 2003, where it wasn’t 100% perfect (me, to this day: BETTER TRANSITIONS BETWEEN YOUR SEVEN ENDINGS, PETER JACKSON), but it still hit all the beats I wanted it to hit and served as a nice ribbon to tie up the series. A solid A of a film, five stars, I need to see it again but this time with more hydration so I don’t have a crying headache afterwards.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 11-12

Aka the last of the preview bits! 

After this post, we’re in completely new territory.

Are you excited? I’m excited.

Chapter 11

We’re introduced to a woman named Nor Solis, who is the queen of Xen Ptera, the planet that’s, like, super shitty.

It used to be a beautiful “kingdom” (well, it’s a planet, but go on), but now it’s all gone to shit because their varillium mines ran out of juice. We’re talking constant earthquakes and acid rain and all that jazz, which makes me wonder how the population survives and why they don’t just move somewhere else, but I guess we’ll find out.

Actually, with the new addition to the ahem ... “lore,” and I use that term loosely, we find out that once their varillium ran out, Nor’s father had turned to the other systems for help, and they all refused to “offer enough,” which then lead to a war that was so hardcore that it’s now called the “Cataclysm” and which apparently fucked up the ecosystem and atmosphere of the entire planet.

The wording also implies that once they were out of varillium, the people literally started starving and disease started spreading easier. Did ... did they eat the varillium? How the fuck did they survive before the discovery of varillium? I can see their trade and status in the galaxy suffering massively, but why did their people start dying?

Literally all of this sounds like complete and utter nonsense. 

Flowers ceased to bloom, and real water was now a dream as artificial water tablets took its place.

Artificial ... water ...... tablets ....

I don’t .... I don’t think that’s how that works .......

As Nor is angsting about how terrible things are, some cyborg girl comes in to disturb her.

A girl in the doorway was half Xen Pterran, with smooth, tanned skin, and half metal parts, a whirring gear where her heart should be. A wonderful find, the girl, plucked from the streets of a collapsing sector of this damned city.

A cyborg girl stood in the doorway, patches of metal spiraling across her burned skin, a whirring gear where her heart should be. She was one of the few who had been saved from radiation exposure even after it had done its damage.

Why is their race of people named after their planet like it’s a country?

I mean ... I guess you could call a human an earthling but not without looking like an actual alien.

Update: As you can see, this has been edited, along with the color of her skin. Also I don’t think you can be saved from radiation exposure if your entire planet is radioactive, especially not after it’s done its damage, because once that’s happened, everything is radioactive. Which, on top of the radioactive soil ... They’re all like, double radioactive at this point. I don’t even know what the word means I’ve used it so much. 

Nor flips her shit that this servant did what servants are supposed to do and entered her quarters.

Nor had always loved the sound of her own voice  -- powerful, yet pure all at once. A voice that brought even the strongest, bravest men to their knees. A voice that could make heads roll, should anyone speak a word against her.

More SJM influences, I see. Is this our BIG BAD BITCH?

Watch as Andi and Nor are described exactly the same way but Andi is arbitrarily better because Shinsay says so.

Seriously, switch out “Nor” for “Andi” and that sentence could’ve been more wank about how great and badass Andi is.

Nor cast a glance backwards. The sharp, spiked collar of her midnight gown stabbed at her throat, but she relished the pain.

It reminded her of the pain she would soon inflict.

What?

She’s wearing a collar? Is this supposed to show how weird and kinky and evil she is? I don’t mind that, kinky people are literally the fucking devil, but it’s still pretty weird.

Update: This has been removed and I am deeply disappointed.

But it’s okay, Shinsay. You may have removed my favorite bits now, but I have another 80+ chapters to comb through, and this time, you can’t edit shit.

Whatever. Nor goes to the person who called for her.

“You think so highly of yourself, Darai, that you summon me to your quarters?” Nor hissed.

Why’d you come then, you fucking idiot?

1) Darai is implied to be below her in rank (he’s her advisor), so the fact that he even did this in the first place makes no sense.

2) If you think you’re superior to him, and you are, why the fuck did you come when he summoned you?

3) Why couldn’t he just like ... send her a message? This is the future, yes? Why didn’t he just do the hologram thing like they do in the Avengers? It turns out that he doesn’t even have to show her anything, just tell her something, so this makes no fucking sense.

4) It also turns out that he’s delivering some pretty important info, which makes me wonder why the person didn’t just notify Nor directly instead of going through her advisor.

5) Couldn’t the servant girl deliver this message, if they’re so technologically impaired?

Does Shinsay not know of any other ways to show how eeeeevil Nor is?

We find out that something that Nor’s been waiting for for months now is in its final stages of development.

Superweapon? Superweapon.

Update: It’s now outright stated to be a weapon.

[...] “Then we should prepare ourselves at once.”

Darai stood from his desk, his long robes sweeping behind him like a curtain. “Highness Nor, if I may suggest…”

“Speak now, Darai Uncle, before I grow tired of you.”

If you want him to speak, why’d you fucking interrupt him you dumbass?

I dunno why they made Darai her uncle (though they’re not related by blood), since it didn’t change their interaction at all, but ok.

Darai tells her that timing is important and that they must wait until all pieces fall into place before making their move. Very ominous.

Nor out-edges him, though.

“The final piece is already in place,” Nor said, with a wave of her metal gold prosthetic hand. 

Seeing it only reminded her of the past. The explosions. The loss. The need for revenge that empowered her.

The past was what fueled her present.

[...]

“When we bring the galaxy to its knees,” Nor said, a smile slowly appearing onto her rouged lips, “I’d like to repaint this room. Perhaps, With the blood of every man, woman, and child who has ever lifted a finger against my planet.”

[...]

“Majesty. My dear” His voice was slippery, as if drenched in oil. “When we bring the galaxy to its knees, you can paint the entire palace in blood, if you wish it.”

Nor closed her eyes, and smiled.

She could see it, taste it.

And it pleased her.

Christ.

“The past was what fueled her present” is actually a pretty decent line, though I would suggest changing “was what” to “that” to make it smoother and fit with the line before it. 

I know Nor is supposed to be super evil and all that, but does she genuinely think that children have personally done something to hurt her planet? The war was fifteen years ago. Depending on how we define “children,” most were probably born after it already ended. 

Chapter 12

Andi is sulking around while the Marauder is being prepared for their mission.

Breck asks how Andi knows the general won’t betray them once they’ve delivered Valen, and Andi says that he made the Arcardian Vow, which is significant because:

The Arcardian Vow was as binding as two souls becoming one.

What does that ... mean?

No? All right. Who cares, I guess.

Andi angsts some more about how even if she wanted to return to Arcardius, it would never be the same and bla bla bla. 

Traveling to Olen had become a fool’s journey ever since The Cataclysm ended. There was still the peace treaty in place, preventing the massive Olen System, with its capital planet of Xen Ptera, from attacking the other Unified Systems of Mirabel. But those living in the Olen System weren’t exactly friendly with the Unified Systems.

You’re telling me ... that this system, whose capital planet is dead and whose people are starving and radioactive, is an active threat? 

I would’ve understood it if they had superweapons they could threaten people with and it was a North Korea type situation, but they’ve been specified to have nothing, and even if they do have secret weapons, the other systems aren’t aware of them, so logically, they should’ve just forgotten about them all and left them to rot.

Also, who cares if they’re not friendly with the Unified Systems? You’re pirates, specifically chosen because you’re not associated with the Unified Systems. On top of that, presumably you’ll be trying to sneak in anyway, so what’s the fucking dealio?

Gilly expresses skepticism about their odds and Andi’s response is:

“We can’t think of it like that. If we do, we’ll end up overthinking every move we make. It’s just another job. A grab and go.”

Yes, Andi. Overthinking. That’s definitely y’all’s biggest problem right now.

Gilly and Breck fuck off to check the new weapons. 

Lira stayed remained behind, watching Andi with those all-seeing Adhiran eyes. They’d been together the longest, shared countless stories over bottles of Cosmic Cram until their eyes became as glassy as the stars.

What does that even mean?

And can we stop reminding the audience of how DIFFERENT and ALIEN Lira is?

She’s Adhiran. We got it the first time you mentioned it. Trust me.

Lira says that she can tell Andi isn’t feeling great, and it’s “clear as varillium.”

I get it, Shinsay. You invented some indestructible glass for your cool space book. Can you stop mentioning it every five fucking seconds now? 

“I’m just in shock. Seeing Dex again after I thought he was gone for good...I stuck a knife through him, Lira. And now he’s come back to haunt me.”

If you stuck a knife through him, it kind of implies you were 100% done with the guy. You know, considering you tried to KILL HIM. I get being surprised that he survived (except I don’t, you didn’t even stay to make sure he was dead so of course there was a chance he’d survive you absolute moron), but this comes off as Andi not being over her ex, which is exactly what it is and it makes no goddamn sense.

Look at this ruthless murderer losing her cool because her cute ex-boyfriend is back and she still has fee-fees for him even though he’s a bad, bad boy!

Update: This has been changed to Andi just telling Lira that she needs time alone.

For once, she wasn’t positive what the next step would be, besides rescuing the general’s son. Beyond that was an expanse of complete uncertainty.

A death sentence pardoned. An entire planet waiting for her . But after all that had transpired and with the wounds she still held inside...could she ever really return?

So Andi doesn’t know what the next step would be, but is already planning her return to Arcardius? I don’t think rescuing the general’s son will be as easy as you make it sound, pumpkin.

I love how it says “for once,” as if Andi usually knows what to do at all times, right after we watched them do nothing but get defeated and captured for the first ten chapters.

Andi angsts and has some more flashbacks to when she was younger and wishes she’d just become a soldier like her father instead of a fancy Spectre:

Her earliest memories of their time together were of training days, bruised fists and bloodied knuckles.

I feel like bruised firsts and bloodied knuckles are essentially the same thing, but alright.

We find out that Andi had a TEMPER in school, because what’s a badass female character without anger issues (because emotions are the only acceptable motivations for a female character’s violence, you see), and that her parents put her in dance classes as a way to combat that (wut), and that’s how she met and befriended Kalee, and also why she was chosen to be her Spectre.

Alfie approaches Andi for no reason.

The android AI’s body was see-through, like the Marauder’s walls, and Andi could see all the gears and wires inside its body from head to toe, clicking and whirring silently, like an old-era clock.

1) How can it click silently? A click is a specific type of sound. Who edited this?

2) “Old-era?” That’s awfully specific. Too much worldbuilding! Tone it down!

3) What’s the point of making an android that doesn’t look human? 

Ah, so now they’ve removed the android thing, and it’s just an “AI” this time.

Anyway, apparently AIs were briefly banned because that’s what Xen Pterra used in their army, but now they’re back. Woo!

“Oh, I see you’ve met Alfie,” [Dex] said, looking between the two of them.

“Alfie?” Andi asked, confused by the name.

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform and I added the “ie” to make it less boring.”

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform Intelligence Emissary ,” the AI said, staring at Andi with those strange eyes. “But you may call me Alfie.”

And more stupid? They fixed it. 

And thanks for clarifying she was confused by the name, the context clues were just too subtle to pick up on!

[...] [Andi] turned around and sat back into her chair.

Dex crouched down next to her, lips level with her ear. “You know, you were a lot more fun three years ago.”

Is her chair embedded in the floor if he has to crouch to get their heads at the same level? Great visual.

Update, I can’t find the chair bit, but Andi is still sitting down and Dex is still crouching, so uh. Ya didn’t fix this one, Shinsay.

Andi gets all flustered when Dex is near her, and remembers the scar she gave him when she stole his ship.

Tenebran Guardians were known for taking pride in their battle marks, but the scar she gave him—whether it still existed or not—was not one he should be proud of.

“Whether it still existed or not?” Meaning you people do have technology that repairs skin? 

WHY IS ANDI STILL WEARING HER STUPID CUFFS THEN?!

What she also noticed was how her heart no longer fluttered like it used to when he looked at her. Her heart, the traitorous thing, fluttered for a moment like it used to when he looked at her. She used to love his eyes, their unspoken words. The feel of his skin against hers during their passionate nights,. but 

Now those thoughts made her cringe.

Oh sure. Of course. That’s why you think about how handsome he is and about all those passionate nights you had before. And why you’re worried that he’s back. Because you’re toooooohhhtahhhllly over him!! Makes sense.

You’re fooling nobody, Shinsay.

Update: Well, at least they’re a bit more honest this time. 

Dex says how it’s good to be back on his ship, to which Alfie responds that his records say that the ship belongs to Androma.

Which ... makes no sense. Alfie is the general’s assistant, meaning his records are most likely official documents. Andi stole the ship. Dex never transferred ownership of the Marauder to her. It should still belong to him.

Anyway, this doesn’t matter because it’s only there so Andi can have the last laugh, to which Dex doesn’t even react, so I don’t even know why this was changed.

Dex.

Even his name was poison in her mind.

Don’t you mean a blade of poison in her heart?

In a different time At another time in her life, Andi would’ve felt guilty for her coldness toward him. But that time was long gone.

“Felt guilty?!?!?!?” YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM!!!

ONCE YOU REACH THAT POINT, YOU’RE KINDA PAST GUILT AND REGRET, NO?!

Remember, she’s supposed to be hating him now, so the fact that she’s even considering guilt make no goddamn sense. She didn’t feel bad about killing him, she’s feeling bad that he’s back and she still wants to ride that space dick.

Or is she?

GOD I CAN’T EVEN TELL WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE FEELING OR WHY.

Now she was made of ice, too afraid full of anger to get close to him again, for fear that he’d melt her all over again from the inside out.

SEE?!

I FUCKING TOLD YOU SHE’S STILL NOT OVER HIM!!

Update: They fixed this too. Why didn’t you hire me as your editor if you’re gonna use my comments to make your book better, Shinsay?

He’d betrayed her, and so she’d betrayed him.

One shredded heart for another.

1) Edgy.

2) Can you ... just ... pick one. Do you hate him and feel no guilt or are you feeling sad and still want him?

And I know what you’ll say: “Oh but Eff, she could be feeling confused and conflicted!”

THIS ISN’T CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED. SHE COULD BE FEELING CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED AND I WOULD’VE THOUGHT IT MADE SENSE BECAUSE IT WOULD MAKE SENSE. RIGHT NOW, SHE’S HAMMERING ON ABOUT HOW OVER HIM SHE IS AND HOW SHE FEELS NO GUILT IN ONE SENTENCE, AND IN THE NEXT, SHE’S LUSTING OVER HIM AND TELLING US HOW SHE’S AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM AGAIN.

AND WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT BOTH OF THESE FEELINGS ARE ONE AND THE SAME AND SOMEHOW MAKE SENSE TOGETHER.

I’m ... I’m tired.

Hearts were pathetic things, too easily broken. The Bloody Baroness couldn’t afford such a weakness. Especially not now that Dex was back at her side.

Edgy.

She’s still afraid she’ll fall in love again.

There would be another tally added soon, accompanying the others on her blades.

It had Dex’s name written all over it.

And now she wants to kill him again.

[we-pay-for-everything]

Not Fade Away, Conversations With Dead People, Graduation Day pt. 2

Hi! Thank you for the ask! I NFA and Graduation Day are favorites too. CWDP... not so much. Let’s see:

Not Fade Away

My favorite or second favorite episode! The best series finale I’ve ever seen. This episode is quite controversial. I know many who, like me, think it is brilliant, and many who lament the abruptness of the ending. There’s so much I could say about this episode, including how it connects to the season, but I’ll settle for the essential analysis. 

This episode works wonderfully as a series finale because it does what series finales must do: it honors the show (and not the season necessarily) and represents, in 40 minutes, everything we love about Angel. 

To honor Angel (both the show and the character) is to honor its mission statement - that started back in Amends, which isn’t even an Angel episode. Buffy’s words to Angel “Strong is fighting. It's hard and it's painful and it's every day. It's what we have to do and we can do it together.” inspired Angel to fight for himself and, later on his own show, for others. 

Angel himself never stopped fighting but throughout the show had to learn and re-learn what he was fighting for: “If there is no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do, ‘cause that's all there is. What we do, now, today. I fought for so long, for redemption, for a reward, finally just to beat the other guy, but... I never got it. [...]  All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because I don't think people should suffer, as they do. Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world.". 

After his epiphany, Angel never looked back and also taught others what he had learned the hard way: “Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, and cruel. But that's why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.”. 

Angel knows how to make a statement, he knows that even if you can’t win you have to fight, because the smallest act is everything we’ve got against the universe. Angel must fight W&H because, like he told Buffy, evil is there to be fought, not necessarily to be won. Angel had to show the world what it could be and lead the way for other champions and fighters. It doesn’t matter where he came from, what he suffered or even if he made a difference, he decided to live what could be his last minutes as the world should be to prove what it could be. “Let’s go to work”, he said. I can’t think of a better way to close the show and Angel’s arc. Despite his shortcomings during season 5, I knew who the Angel from NFA was and I loved him.

There’s an existential theme to this episode (and to the show as well) that has always been represented by Angel and his arc. But Gunn’s own contribution to this episode was also an important existentialist one that justified the ending of the show itself. Gunn spends his last day helping his friend, Anne, at her shelter. When helping her move some boxes, he asks her: “What if I told you it doesn't help? What would you do if you found out that none of it matters? That it's all controlled by forces more powerful and uncaring than we can conceive, and they will never let it get better down here. What would you do?”. Anne’s answer is simple: “I'd get this truck packed before the new stuff gets here.” And nothing else is said on the subject. 

 Although the most prominent theme of the episode is existentialist in nature, there’s also an absurdist theme represented by Wesley’s character. Wesley’s journey was largely one of pain, sacrifice and meaningless loss. He kidnapped Connor, but his plan failed and he ended up friendless and with his throat slit, he finally got the girl and lost her violently, he tried to kill a member of the Circle of Black Thorn and died having failed. Unlike the potential deaths of Angel, Gunn, Spike and Illyria, Wes didn’t die in battle victoriously and with purpose, but rather meaninglessly, wasted away on the floor, in the arms of an illusion. Wesley’s journey is an absurd, pessimistic one that counters the show’s lesson that fighting is worth it and that life as a meaning, a design, even if it’s a small one. Whereas Angel fights but wins, Wesley fights and loses. I like that. It’s tragic but adds a touch of realism to the show. Not everything has a meaning or a purpose. Somethings are just absurd.  

Earlier in the day, Wesley and Illyria had discussed what his perfect day would be. Wesley, in that absurdist vein, answered: “There is no perfect day for me, Illyria. There is no sunset or painting or finely-aged scotch that's going to sum up my life and make tonight any... There is nothing that I want.”. However, there was something Wesley wanted, but couldn’t have: Fred. So Illyria offered to become her and Wesley refused: “The first lesson a watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. Because in the world of magics, it's the hardest thing to do. The truth is that Fred is gone. To pretend anything else would be a lie. And since I don't actually intend to die tonight, I won't accept a lie.“. 

Mercifully and true to his words, when Wesley realizes he is going to die, he finally accepts the lie: “Would you like me to lie to you now?”. Wes sees “Fred” for the last time and dies in her arms. If you listen closely, you can hear my sobs. That was the most beautiful, poignant death scene I’ve ever seen. 

Lastly, I’d like to mention Spike, Lorne and Lindsey’s stories. Spike finally gets some credit for his bad poetry - a surprising but fitting ending for his character, the “fool for love”. Lorne gets a sadder, controversial ending. He kills Lindsey. All I’ll say on the subject is that Lorne had a choice and chose to help Angel. And Lindsey, well, he was more demon than man at that point. 

Rating: 10/10

Conversations with Dead People

I’m not particularly fond of this episode. I also confess that I don’t remember it well. Mostly, my dislike for it comes from the conversation between Buffy and Holden. 

What many might call a introspective, clever conversation, I consider to be psycho babble and pretentious drivel. Like many, “psychology” students portrayed in tv and movies, these “experts” sound very little like actual psychologists and more like people who like to name drop Freudian concepts like “ego”, “id”, “Oedipus” so they can sound more knowledgeable. 

I disliked how Buffy spoke of Spike. One of the major problems in this season is how victimized Spike is and how villanized Buffy is. Following the unhealthy Spuffy relationship from season 6 which culminated in the AR from Seeing Red, there’s a lot of bad blood between Spike and Buffy that the writers decided to not address or to address rather badly. Giving Spike a soul immediately shifted the blame from Spike, giving him a chance to escape judgment. However, the writers passed judgement on Buffy instead. She admits herself that she is to blame for their dynamic, because she used him, and implies feeling guilty for whatever she did while depressed and in a “relationship” with a manipulative, abusive, soulless demon. 

Perhaps this episode could’ve done something useful and helped Buffy acknowledge that her guilt was misplaced, which would’ve caused a much needed shift in Buffy and Spike’s dynamic. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen and their dynamic became more and more co-dependent and gross. Spike used Buffy as a clutch, Buffy felt guilty so she clung to Spike, Spike isolated Buffy and Buffy relied more heavily on him, and so on and so forth.

I’m also not convinced by Buffy’s “inferiority complex about her superiority” complex either (see what I mean about pseudo psychology?). Sounds like a gross simplification to me, 

Regarding the Willow/Cassie and Dawn/Joyce parts, my only comment is that I was unimpressed by both. Tara/Willow doesn’t interest me much so I think it’s natural that Cassie didn’t spook me. I will concede that The First was used more effectively in this episode than in most of the other season 7 episodes. 

My rating: 6/10.

Graduation Day, Part 2

My second favorite season 3 episode and one of my top 10 best Buffy episodes! I very much adore it. 

Graduation Day (both parts) in one of the most intense episodes of the Buffyverse. As it happened with Surprise/Innocence, Graduation Day, parts 1 and 2, are immensely successful at constructing a heavy, suspenseful, dangerous atmosphere to keep the audience hooked and expectant. 

Following the Buffy/Faith fight and Angel’s poisoned state, the stakes are high on GD pt. 2. Faith is in a coma, and Buffy has no slayer blood to feed to Angel except her own. Despite bite scenes being a common occurrence in vampire fiction, Joss Whedon only once resorted to that cliché and did it cleverly enough that it didn’t seem like a cliché at all. It was convenient that the poison’s antidote was slayer’s blood because it forced Buffy’s hand regarding Faith. However, it was also a clever way to put the final nail in the coffin for Buffy and Angel’s relationship. What better way to contrast their opposite natures then through Angel drinking Buffy’s blood? Whereas Buffy gives life, Angel takes it, Buffy dies and Angel lives. They can’t co-exist together, not as lovers, not as friends, and not as enemies. That bite scene is perhaps one of my favorite Bangel moments ever. I loved how it was directed. Buffy and Angel falling in slow motion on the floor was quite dramatic, and the music was also. The scene was definitely erotic (the final consummation of Buffy and Angel’s love, because Buffy giving Angel her blood was an act of love) but it was not completely romanticized, it had a very disturbing vibe to it. 

I also loved Wesley and Cordy’s epic kiss, the preparation for taking down the Mayor (not with humus) and every little moment that led up to the battle. Graduation Day part 2 has less filler scenes than the first part, one of the reasons why I find it superior. 

The epic battle was indeed epic. It was the perfect tribute to the high school years and to Joss’ original concept of Buffy being about surviving high school. The Sunnydale High students’ survive high school both literally and figuratively. They fight as one, united for the first time in acknowledgment of the supernatural. Buffy kills the Mayor quite creatively, but first he snacks on Snider (RIP). 

Buffy and Angel’s parting kills me a bit inside, and the final shot of out heroes, as well as Oz’s words, fills me with intense longing and nostalgia. This episode is one of the hardest for me to watch for this very reason. It’s the last of the best Buffy seasons and the end of an era.

Rating: 10/10. 

Tell me your 3 favorite BtVS/AtS episodes and I’ll give you my brutally honest opinion on them 

[mochilump]

bnha 'Let It Go’

I recently got sick, so instead of using my time productively, I switched around the lyrics of Frozen’s let it go for a bnha spirit AU. Hope you like it.

Okay, so the background to this is I was thinking, what if a student from a different course faced Todoroki in the finals round? My idea was based as an AU where quirks were there are spirits tied to a quirk user. 

It’s along the lines where spirits were dying out with the rapid increase of the human population and pollution and to survive they started inhibiting humans, hence the existence of their quirks. A symbiotic relationship where the spirit continues to exist by lending them a bit of their users power. 

So Todoroki faces this person, and he’s been denying his fireside of his quirk, using only ice but? The student facing him has a quirk that allows them to see spirits and also use their powers. 

The quirk allows them lending their body and energy for the spirit to use. I consider seeing as a more passive and actually handing their body over stressing and tiring. So, the other student is just like ‘hell no, you are not continuing to treat your spirits like that!’ and they allow the spirit to use their body to knock some sense into Todoroki because they really don’t like seeing his spirits suffering. 

Hence, this scene I wrote where he fights his Half cold spirit who is literally taunting him by singing about their life in an edited version of Let it Go.

“I’ll make you” whispered the student, trembling in rage. “I’ll make you use your flames” he shouted. 

“Sorry, but the fights not going to last long enough for you to even try,” said Todoroki coldly, flinging his ice as a giant iceberg. Anyone sane would’ve ran, but they couldn’t, they had something to do. 

“That’s your mistake, that your power wouldn’t fight against you fir the crap your pulling.” Torooki barely heard them as their eyes slipped shut, the ice washing over them. For a second, everything was still, the entire arena was silent, wondering if that was it, but it wasn’t so simple.

“You shouldn’t have done that, letting your spirit out so easily,” spoke Todoroki. “I’m going to make you open your eyes, so, come and fight me-you only have your fire powers left after all!” he smirked and the real Todoroki stared at his double in shock. Standing before him, clad in the same UA uniform was him, only not. The double had pure white hair and dark brown gray eyes, not a scar in sight. 

“You-what did you do!?” snarled Todoroki, shooting up and seeing his reflection on the big screen and his anger skyrocket at seeing that he had ruby red hair, and two teal eyes, one surrounded by a burn, completely devoid of his mother’s side. 

“Oh, it’s not so much as what they did but what they allowed, but let’s not get into that right now,” smiled the double. “I’m here to make you use your fire, to accept your other side.” 

“I will never use my flames! I can beat you without them! I don’t care what tricks you’re pulling with your quirk, but I’ll take you down!” The smile on the white haired doubles face fell, turning into a cold glower that was more familiar but all the harsher. 

“I see.” Slowly, that glower turned dark and wicked as frost coated his skin, curling up elegantly as his eyes turned hard like icy shards. making the difference between them all the more stark. 

“Then come at me, I’ll force you to use your flames. I’ll force you to accept yourself!” he shouted before smirking. 

“So, come and try Shouto, but you won’t be too happy, after all, I’m ICE!” He lashed out with a heavy blast and Todoroki barely jumped to the side, just managing to dodge the spikes.

“The snow glows white when our powers fight. Not a flare of heat to be seen~” The double started to sing softly, spinning snow and ice around as he attacked Todoroki who stubbornly refused to use his powers. 

“A kingdom of Isolation~ and it looks like~ I’m the king!” he spat out, freezing Todoroki to the ground for a moment, as if the song held more precedent than winning the fight. It’s not that Todoroki had a bad singing voice, but as the real one struggled, he realized that the song was more than to just p*ss him off. 

“These flames are howling like the burning storm inside! Couldn’t keep it in, heaven know’s I’ve tried~” Todoroki’s flames spluttered unbidden and he slammed his hand over it, refusing to use them, making his double glare, snapping his head away. 

“Won’t let him in, won’t let him see-be the puppet that we were born to be! Conceal-don’t feel-don’t let them know~!” he sang loudly, slamming his foot on the ground and Todoroki cried out, having no choice but to melt the spikes that would’ve skewered him. It sickened him, to use this power, this quirk and his doubles expression looked hurt before it turned to fury. 

“Well, now they know!” he snarled. “Let it go~ Let it go! You can’t hold it back no more! Let it go-let it go! Turn him away and slam the door~!” he sang, making snow fall, icing the entire arena. It was as if he changed the weather, creating snow from the moisture in the air. 

“and I don’t care! What they’re going to say!” he belted out. “Let the storm rage on! The cold never bothered us anyways!” 

“You b*st*rd!” Todoroki snarled but the double just smirked and Todoroki’s face stared back at him. 

“It’s funny how some distance, makes you start to freak out now, and the fear that once consumed us, is burning you to the ground!” he sang with that infuriating smirk, the words piercing and cold. 

“Shouldn’t you see what you can do? Stop holding back and let it break through? No him! Heroes, or who to be~!” he asked. “Be Free!” He slammed his foot into the ground, ice skating across the ground and raising the barrier line so it’d be harder to just jump out and escape. Without his quirk, Todoroki couldn’t skate on it and even though he lunged, the other just dodged so easily, continuing that d*mn song. 

“Let it go, let it go! Be one with fire and Ice, let it go-let it go! There’s been enough cause of him tonight~ So here I’ll stand! And here I’ll stay! Until you use your flames~” he swung his arm out, but it wasn’t an attack. The floor was suddenly patterned with frost. Beautiful and delicate, glittering like gems and Todoroki for a moment, wondered how he could make something so beautiful, before throwing himself back into the fight. 

“My power flurries through the air and through the ground!” he twirled, a smile on his face, only this one was happy as he controlled the snow. “Our souls been spiraling like the frozen fractals all around~! And one thoughts been crystalized, like an icy blast~” he built up, throwing frost on his outfit, making it silvery blue, almost like a prince before he strutted forward a little, smirking down at him, suddenly so different from Todoroki. 

“You’re not gonna win you’re still caught up in the past!” they sang and Todoroki snarled. He wouldn’t, he refused, he refused that man! “Just let it go! Let it go! And we can rise like the break of dawn! Let it go, let it go-and his perfect tool is gone!” Sang Rune, walking over, freezing Todoroki against a block of ice. “We’ll stand here! In the light of day!” he gestured, to everyone, everything. 

“The storm rages on! The cold never bothered us anyways~….” he trailed off, staring down at Todoroki who was still glaring so fiercely, who still refused to use his flames. 

“So…why do you hate the other half of us?” asked the double sadly. 

“You know why-you son of a b*tch! You and your f*cking quirk! Dragging this out!” 

“tch! You really are blind,” glared his double. “Do I have to spell it out for you!? They wouldn’t know these things-hell, who would know these things but you? And me. I would know, cause I’ve been with you, but you never see us, you only see me,” he spat, expression a mix of angry and bitter desperation. “I’m Half cold!” He shouted to the world. 

“W-what?” Todoroki actually stuttered, looking at his double in honest disbelief. 

“I’m the ice of your quirk….but I’m not just Ice, we’re not just ice Shouto!” he said, frigid tears falling. “I’m fire too! You as well-but you hate half of me-you hate who we are-what we are!” he said with a choked off sob, collapsing to his knees. 

“I-I don’t-I don’t! I hate his-“ 

“But we’re not his quirk! We’re not him!” shouted Half Cold, looking up at Todoroki angrily but so-so done, with all of it, everything. “other people have fire quirks you know! So what if his quirk is fire!? We’re yours Shouto! A spirit of fire of ice to give you powers over fire and ice. I’m yours yet-yet you hate me! Separate what I am and it’s unbearable. I’m not just ice! I’m not just fire-and I’m not his flames! I’m your quirk! Your’s and yours alone! It’s your power I gave you and yet-! Why…?” he asked brokenly, still crying. “Why do you still…acting like you have to be him...when the choice is yours?”

That’s all I have and really it’s more of a clip then a story but I hope you like it! 

[ouathinktank-metacommentary]

As OUaT comes to an end (?) one can’t not wonder where did all go wrong? Was it you who criticized parallels with BTVS/JaneE transferring her penchant for writing/promoting abusive relationships and violent sexist “badboys” and their ships ruining female characters? Because Kitsowitz’s Hook boner ruined OUaT the same way Marti/Jane E’s boner for shirtless Spike ruined Buffy. And it’s sad, because both used to be shows about “strong female characters” and ended up as odes to manpain. (cont)

All that we’ve sorely missed on our TV? Riiight. As if. We’vebeen promised a “modern” fairytale, and we’ve been naïve enough to hope thatthe story about Saviour and the Evil Queen, redeemed through the power of love,family and hope would be it. Naïve to think that “Jane E was a part of Buffy,they gave us Willow/Tara, the first great non-fetishized love story between twowomen”. But all we got was queerbaiting, heteroenforcing and Hook, Hook and moreHook. (cont)

To the point of Emma Swan, former “strong female hero” being disfigured beyond recognition and fading into nothingness.  And yeah. Six years of our lives called Once Upon a Waste of Our Time, while at least in Buffy we had five great ones, you know? :(

Not really sure that this is the end of OUaT, but generaluncertainty (the negotiations, as well as talks about a ‘reset’ and the needfor change they’re evidently desperately aware of) is a clear indication how much of a deep shit they’re in. And yet when it comes to reasons, they remain either oblivious orcareless? But speaking of those stolen borrowed things that came from BtVS… well, I am not sure. Wedid compare ships in terms of how they’ve been portrayed (Spuffy allegedlydeliberately as negative and harmful, while CS openly and directlyromanticizes same things) but… it’s true. The very same can be said about both, concerning the impact ofan unexpected popularity of a posturing, vaguely thuggish minor character in ablack leather jacket, turning a once-good show–into a really bad one. Because in television, as inlife, events tend to repeat themselves, but as proven so far–Brothers Dimshowed very little originality apart from the general idea (and S1, which Istill claim–was stolen and bleached bones of the original author are goingto resurface in Nevada desert at some point) and hence we got a whole premiseruined by Spike #2–Mr. quasi-redeemed-ex-rapist Killian Jones?

Because where elsedo we place blame for general mediocrity? Was it the onslaught of random “whichiconic character do you want to see next” episodic storylines that, instead ofconnecting things from the background/flashbacks–only fragmented everything?Was it the overemphasis on irrelevant new characters, love-interests as well asvillains-de-semiseason–that they never developed enough for us to give a damnabout? Was it the decision to build entire seasons around different Disneycharacters/realms while putting on hold (at best) and backtracking on anddirectly contradicting (often even retconning, yes) the main characters that wefell in love in the first place–by creating complex convoluted storylines thatmade less and less sense? Well, that’s only part of it. Because we all agree,things were much better before that point when everything started evolving around Hook, his quasi redemption and his obsession and pursuit after Emma Swan. Which is now history repeating itself,like in BtVS where all problems could be traced to the moment when Buffyfound out that Spike, attempted rapist and current possessor of a soul, hadsomehow been killing people despite his souled status–and from that point on,the show has no longer been about Buffy and her friends, or Buffy and hermission, or anything that used to be interesting on this show–it was about Spike. It involved Buffy trying to find out why he was killing again, then she spent several pointless episodes focusing her attention on freeing Spike (instead on the impending apocalypse), then a new character had a vendettaagainst Spike so we got an entire episode devoted to filling out Spike’s backstory… and we sat through various other plot threads about Spike. Even when Spikeisn’t on-screen, characters were talking about him, so it was ALL about him. AndBuffy, indirectly, through their (fucked up, for her–character degrading) relationship.And that was about all.

Sounds familiar?

(cut, because we don’t pull parallels and metas with pretty gifs–but cold hard facts and words, which means–long textpost ahoy :)

So, yeah. The comparison… is there. Evident. Starting with potential, and… actual result. Because nothingwould’ve been as problematic if Spike got any brilliantly fascinating stories,but he never really did–despite the potential inherent in the story of an evilcreature trying to reform. Because at every turn, writers copped out on hisstory, whitewashing his past to the point of retconning with contrived nonsensethat directly contradicted all the previous vampire mythology on both BtVS andAngel (like, even when he was turned into a vampire he allegedly wasn’t initially avicious killer) and making no attempt to show that having a soulhas changed him in any way. So ‘souled’ Spike is still a wisecracking punk wholiked to hit women (he hit Buffy, Anya, Faith) as means of foreplay (he ‘pined’ after Buffy, had sex with Anya, flirted with Faith to make Buffy jealous) and isolate Buffy from herfriends. And yet we were still somehow supposed to sympathize with him, because…why, he got a soul in the hope that Buffy would forgive his attempt torape her and sleep with him again? Because except for a couple of throwawaylines, Spike has never been made to seek redemption for his crimes, he nevermade an attempt to even apologize to anyone… for anything, really. Not thatapologizing would ever go with his character (the one he had, previous to his Buffy obsession) but the assumption appearedto be that he didn’t really need to atone because what, having a soul made hima different and better person? But the writers haven’t shown us that, all they showed us was the same ‘cool punk’ frombefore, only without the viciousness that made him moderately interesting.

Same goesfor Hook. He could’ve had fascinating stories, but he isn’t because all that heis–is a selfish douchebag who is now trying to be a ‘hero’ because he sees Emma ashis reward, his happy ending. And as BtVS did, at every turn OUaT cops out onhis story–whitewashing his past (it was always an ‘unfortunate set ofcircumstances’, not the fact that he was spoiled privileged daddy’s boy whobecame pirate out of… spite, really?) and making no attempt to show us thathe’s really trying to redeem himself, that he wants to. You know, the way they showed us that they can write redemption storylines–on Regina’s example? So he’sstill doing things behind everyone’s back, especially Emma’s (the shears) andof course lying (yeah, omitting to tell the truth is still lying–and not a solid foundation for a well-balanced relationship, but tell that to Tweens and Twimoms) andisolating Emma from her family, her son, her friends, her destiny… by means of emotional blackmail, via suicide attempts toget her to ‘save’ him–all the way to leaving her now to show that he ‘feels’ theweight of the ‘guilt’ and… yet we’re still somehow supposed to sympathize with him, because… why?Because he didn’t hightail in order to leave the site of his devastating loss, not to punish Emma–but he… went on aquasi-quest (that he didn’t really want to go on, it was a childish ‘twist’ tokeep them apart) just to realise that he didn’t really want to leave her? Lol.Ooo-kay. But hey, when he comes back (by means of some random MacGuffin of sortsthat will inevitably happen) he won’tcome back as a changed man, he’ll still be the same self-serving douchebag who,except for a couple of throwaway lines (to… Belle, only? Because they made themsuch ‘solid’ friends too, at the cost of her intelligence–trusting him and all,to further whitewash him) has neverbeen shown to seek redemption for his crimes, he doesn’t even apologize fortrying to kill ANY of them for cryin’ out loud, let alone… persistently endangering Henry? The assumption appears to be that he doesn’tneed to atone because… being with Emma apparently makes him a different andbetter person? Only, we haven’t been shown that either, all that we keepgetting is the same self-serving pirate, only without gang/rape jokes, beatingwomen up and shooting them, which… made him moderately interesting because assexist/misogynist as it was–he was a villain with some personality, after all?

And thoseare only some parallels. Captain Swan gaveus absolutely nothing that we haven’t seen eleventy kazillion times before. Samelike any interesting stories about a vampire with a soul have alreadybeen told on both Buffy and Angel, and with Spike all we got is a lotof half-naked posturing. Like Killan Jones gave us only… quasi brooding and love shown as obsession.

But it wasn’t an overemphasis on Spike (as a character, or aLI… no matter how wrong and fucked-up as their ship has been portrayed, because‘feminist’ Whedon gave us a story of an abusive relationship meant to be assuch–only it supposedly wasn’t sexist and misogynist because Buffy was ‘abusive’ towardsSpike, too?) that was the problem. This was brought up numerous times before, it was the way this emphasis has betrayedone of the most appealing themes of the show: that it’s OK to be uncool. It wasabout social outcasts fighting symbolic representations of twisted embodiment ofhigh school coolness, because monsters on the show were often portrayed assuch. While Spike, the way he was introduced (as villain, mind you–before beingshoehorned into a role of a hero, never meant for him) was exactly the kind ofsmartass punk who makes high school a miserable place for geeks. Arrogant,cocky and contemptuous of anyone who wasn’t equally cool, he was a superficial,self-confident and deserved to besmacked down by awkward heroes–who arereally the coolest and most heroic of all? And similarly in OUaT, with the transformation of Hook intoa ‘romantic hero’ (not even a ‘lovable antihero’, like Spike) they stoppedcelebrating female empowerment, strong self-reliant women who despite comingfrom an extremely broken and fragmented past… showed us how to punch back andfight for ourselves. Strong individuals with a lot of self-integrity, asdamaged as they were? And the show started celebrating the cool pirate with‘roguish charm’, rape-culture personified who gets what he wants, because he’shandsome and white, and… needs to be saved from himself by the love of a ‘good’woman–Christian Grey style?

Bringing us back to the original point we’ve all been repeating ad nauseam. Watching season afterseason about Craptain Swan and Hook’s warped journey of ‘redemption’ where Emma has become a selfish arsehole who blatantly disregards even her son, where Regina became a trusty sidekick whose only role is to follow Emma to hell and back, repeatedly (and quite literally, what subtext has been abundantly abused for, too?) to help her “get her pirate back”, and I don’t know agoddamn thing about what Snow or Charming or Henry are thinking, or even who they areanymore, and what the ever loving fuck is Rumple doing now, chasing the new son because he lost the one everything started with because of Hook, again, and… we will likely never find out, and it kind of breaks my heart. The bond between these characters, as FAMILY was supposed to be the heart of theshow, more than anything else–wasn’t it? But now it seems that on a show where an unrepentant self-serving prick can be a hero, a ‘romantic’ hero at that–there’s no more room for a celebration of the power offamily, love, hope–or the nobility of strong female characters who didn’t need men to find their inner strength or sense of identification.

So, yes. Buffy was a better show in the first four years, beforeSpike fell in love with Buffy, before Spike started taking his shirt off inevery episode, and when the focus was on four uncool people and their quest torid the world of… well, of characters like Spike. Same like OUaT was a better show when it was about mothers and daughters, about finding your family and coming back home to it. And I daresay that yes, it was an infinitesimally better show when we had a glimpse of hope that it was going to be that ‘modern fairytale’, about two mothers being connected through their love for their son. But again… tell that to the two idiots.