#anyways sorry rockboci i stole twig for a bit

[vegetalass]

Don’t Just Eat the Egg, Eat the Whole Damn Nest

LMFAOOO i wrote most of this WEEKS ago after I saw this post on @rockboci’s blog abt WHAT IF twig was a RO and i was like…. Dam they right

Found it again 2nite and finished it up

Tfw ur sidestep but u also have a crush on sidestep :(

i also really wanted to figure out how to make that scenario of ‘two sidesteps’ work bc.... Damn we all sidestep bros

I also saw another post on Malin’s blog about peoples sidesteps interacting… and i was like…. Yea…. me too…

Ive been SOO busy lately that i havent been keeping up with fallen hero but all the spoilers i do see look LIT

Hopefully i can catch up soon!

Warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers.

FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth and Twig belongs to @rockboci

gn!Sidestep/Twig - 1229 words

It’s uh... funny the way things work out. The way that fate sometimes decides to run its course right off the track and straight into the stratosphere.  

You’ve always heard people joke about things such as alternate universes, or parallel lives, yet it has always led to you wonder why it was you that actually happened to end up in one.

Metaphorically speaking, of course, because you like to pretend that you’re someone completely normal and that nothing bad has ever happened to you in your life. EVER.

Not that you’ve ever truly managed to convince yourself of that, as there are a lot of things that you’ve done and have had done to you that you’d rather not think about, but you try to live your life the way someone normal does. You eat the things you like, you smoke the things you want, and you do your best to believe that everything is easier now that you’re not living a life that someone else created for you.

And what can fate do about that?

Nothing, because you continue to watch Twig do exactly the same.

They don’t look like you, not even close, and still, it seems as though you’ve been following their tracks since before you can even remember. Back before you had seen the sky, when you still used to listen to other kids whisper about who had and who hadn’t managed to see the real world as if it wouldn’t get you all killed if anyone human heard.

You know they all did, and knowing that is even the reason you got to escape.

���You know,” Ortega said once, interrupting your thoughts while wiping coffee cake crumbs off his cheek as he spoke, “I did tell Chen you were nice.”

You try to be kind. You try to be strong. And you like to hope that you know Twig a little better than you have ever let on.

Granted, they know you, too, but... you seem to have some form of mutual understanding when it comes to keeping quiet about the things that only the both of you know.

Your shared abilities, for one. Your different-yet-shared heinous plans, another. Even Dr. Mortum, and a bunch more stuff like that.

Except that… Twig works for themselves, and you, um... work for the good of the people and all things that come with upturning the government on behalf of getting revenge and once and for all being free.

Vice versa, maybe?

Not that you could ever say that out loud, of course, as you’ve always been more of an “in your head” type of person anyway, which you find to be quite ironic in this case, when Twig just so happens to smile whenever you think anything mean.

Twig knows all this about you, though, as well as the in-your-head revenge game that you play, as you find that they actually happen to know a lot. You know they agree when you think about it, and you can always feel the way Twig’s thoughts shift from black to white as if they were saying “cheers” to the single-person party in their mind that was made up of only you.

You don’t catch them smirking. You never do. 

That being said, Twig is… not really a secret. Not to you, at least. And it’s a funny battle that you fight almost every single day, because you aren’t a secret to them, either.

Twig sees Ortega. You, in a way, look, at Ortega. Twig looks at Herald, and you, just as strangely, see Herald.

Or... something like that, at least. You don’t think too hard about what’s really happening anymore, spending more time focusing on both getting revenge and then running away for the rest of your sorry life. Twig raises their glass to that thought, as well.

Because it’s as if fate decided to slice the world in two when you died during the Heartbreak at the exact same time as Twig.

Different room and different window, but still. You would argue that it counts, even if some might say the split came around the same time you were extracted from a water tank into a world already succumbed in tears.

You always knew Twig was actually a crybaby. It was just too bad you didn’t really know them at all, and frankly still don’t.

You just don’t know if that’s a good thing. You don’t know if you want to.

Not that you were ever on the waiting list to become a Ranger the way that Twig was, but you had your moments.

You remember Ortega. His smile, his charm, and his big, warm hands. You remember Chen, who in retrospect didn’t like Twig much either, and how you felt whenever he turned his back towards you but his front towards them. And you definitely remember feeling as favored as a lonely and lost vigilante could ever could, even when Twig gave all the interviews and you simply made your way.

Things weren’t great as a vigilante, but you had your friends, and Twig had theirs. It was just a shame that they were the same people.

You almost wish you could go back. Back to when all the titles (and skintight clothing) still fit, although in some ways, you like to think that sometimes, they still do.

Even if they can and did get you killed.

You can’t blame the Rangers for picking sides, just as you can’t blame Twig for feeling equally as resentful when they failed to find their body, too, and then decided to give up.

Or something.

Whatever.

You have that in common.

Same home, same hospital, same death.

Cheers, Twig!

There’s a silent conversation you have with Twig, one that hangs on the balance beam between trust, empathy, and the fact that you, in a way, almost share blood.

Twig ignored the thought during the last time you saw them. Although, they happen to ignore you a lot, anyway, as you remember in detail how you could only sputter are the blank expression they passed your way during the last time you tried to converse, as if you were never meant to have a place on this split-in-half-earth.

Even if you’re partly why it split.

Oh well.

“I was thinking that, uh..” you start, feeling like one of those ugly gray birds with big red eyes, before you’re interrupted by a voice as cold as steel.  

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.” Their reply is quick, yet miraculously timed and callous, even if you do your best to assume that it was a joke.

Ortega looks at you with raised eyebrows and shrugs, doing nothing to hide the broken-lipped smirk that opens his jaw.

You try again, voice hoarse “I was thinking that maybe next time you go to the diner, I could come too.”

You try to smile, pushing any annoyance you feel towards Twig full force.

They don’t seemed phased, however, and continue to smile slightly at Ortega’s laugh when he assures you that, yes, you’re always welcome to get dinner with them at “any time and always.”

Twig’s thoughts twist again, the way they always do when you think of them, especially now at your insistence that you don’t want to be left behind, and you can feel that fucking smirk again.

You wonder what it’s like to have a sibling.