#just won and now must destroy a city over it . or whatever

[alisaint]

guys, i have good news for once. i've found proof of intelligent life out here in these wastelands:

my favorite excerpts:

Will, Jonathan, and Joyce Formed a Special Trio

If Eleven is the main character in Stranger Things, the Byers family is the conduit through which she flickers. Will’s disappearance in the first season spurred the Hawkins community to rush to his aid. The tight-knit camaraderie between Will, Jonathan, and Joyce juxtaposes the stereotypical family composed of kids and teenagers. Parents and children are supposed to fight and bicker in television and other media, often to build the main conflict of the story, but the Byers family already underwent that trauma offscreen.  Lonnie Byers (Ross Partridge) makes a brief cameo in the first season, flexing his standoffish demeanor and abusive nature. It’s clear that the Byers patriarch doesn’t possess much empathy for his ex-wife or his sons. Jonathan valiantly steps into the father, husband, and big brother role, amalgamating into a combination of responsibilities that no other character on the show could dream of emulating. 

Jonathan Binds the Byers Family Together

Jonathan’s multifaceted arc in the first two seasons made him one of the series’ most easily dissectable characters. Stranger Things often differentiates itself from other shows by keeping the antagonists separate from the main characters. There are no Walter White or Tony Soprano-style antiheroes in which fans must compromise one part of their moral compass to appreciate the character. One might think this makes the series boring, but it’s the opposite. Jonathan was proof that a nearly perfect brother and son can still be fascinating to watch. After Will was found in season 1’s climax, he was taken over by the Mind Flayer in season 2. Jonathan again stood by Will’s side as his little brother felt outcasted by friends and society at large. Schnapp and Heaton’s chemistry often leads to tender, humorous exchanges like this one in which the boys remind the audience that being weird can be a human superpower in its own right.  These moments became few and far between in seasons 3 and 4. Will and Jonathan were relegated to minor supporting characters as the aforementioned new additions took center stage. Will at least gets to tag along with Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and the other younger friends. Jonathan often only appears in a few small scenes with his girlfriend Nancy (Natalia Dyer), and the writers even flirted with pushing Nancy back into Steve’s arms in the most recent season. Jonathan spent the majority of season 4 high on marijuana and frolicking around in a faux buddy-comedy routine with the one-off character Argyle (Eduardo Franco).  The decision to waste Heaton’s work from the first two seasons with a 180-degree personality change made no sense. Jonathan suddenly seemed careless, distant, and uninspired, but not in a dense way that could be unlocked by further character development. Little-to-no time was spent on him. While some fans might concur it is a necessary evil to take screen time away from older characters when expanding the world of Hawkins, it certainly transforms Stranger Things from a show about family into a show just about monsters and romances. 

Jonathan’s Enhanced Role in Season 5?

Many theories point to Will being one of the critical pieces to defeating Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) in the fifth and final season. His connection to the Upside Down and the evils underneath the surface should open up opportunities for Jonathan to lend his ears and counseling once again. Jonathan grows on an individual level when he aids others. When locked out of his family’s life, it stunts his ability to shine as a listener and an empathizer.  Jonathan’s best scene from season 4 again features a tear-jerking moment with Will. On the cusp of coming out of the closet, Will needs Jonathan more than ever before, and his brother responds supremely to the task at hand. The poignant conversation validates that the Duffers haven’t completely forgotten how to flesh out the Byers family. When the world gets too enormous for the characters and the audience, Jonathan serves as a connector to the most human elements of the series’ thematic thesis. He may not be as funny as Steve or as neurotic as Robin, but Jonathan symbolizes the good in all of us. In a show shrouded in darkness, Jonathan’s presence will be instrumental to forming a satisfying, optimistic conclusion in Hawkins, Indiana.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Chloe's Lament

Why no! I'm still not over Miracle Queen, why do you ask?

_______________________

They were impossible odds to begin with.

That was why they had failed.

Miracle Queen smirked as Ladybug was stung by her wasps and put under her control. Seeing the once great hero brought low really filled her with vindictive satisfaction.

“See?” She sneered. “I didn’t need you. You needed me!”

If anyone had the right to destroy Ladybug, it was her. After all, hadn’t she deserved this? What right did Ladybug have to refuse her her Miraculous anyway?

Well, it didn’t matter anymore. Because now all of the Miraculous were hers. Including Ladybug’s and Chat’s.

“My lady!” Chat shouted, though he was helpless to stop it. Helpless to even escape the grasp of her guards.

And speaking of which…

Her guards didn’t move, simply standing in place while they waited for orders. She was mildly annoyed that they couldn’t think for themselves and simply take the Miraculous already to present to her in offering, but…

…actually, no. It was better if she did it. This was her victory, after all.

She considered starting with the sidekick. He had always been an eyesore, anyway.

But Chloe was never one for patience.

At her command, Ladybug approached, apparently unaware of the world around him. Before Miracle Queen, she placed both hands over her ears.

She...seemed to hesitate for a moment.

Miracle Queen arched a brow at that. Was there some part of her trying to resist?

“Give me the Earrings.”

Whatever hesitancy she had vanished and within a second, she had the Earrings off, causing the transformation to fade and revealing—

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?!”

She barely heard that alley cat’s gasp. She took little notice of Hawk Moth or Mayura’s own responses. She outright ignored the little pink bug thing that appeared and blanched at her presence. She didn’t even register anything any of them said afterwards, her mind whirling from the implications.

She had always thought Ladybug this distant figure. Untouchable. Unreachable.

But for it to be her of all people?!

She wasted no effort on kindness, simply ripping the earrings out of the former Ladybug’s hands with a sneer.

Her own goody-goody classmate just stood there staring ahead blankly. Chloe almost regretted not leaving her unstung, if only so she could see her reaction as she lost everything.

Chloe bit back a snarl at the girl.

She had always been a pest. Always getting in Chloe’s way. Always acting as if she was actually worth anything compared to her. Always denying her—demeaning her—opposing her—stealing from her!

Her Adrien! Her Mom’s attention! And now her Miraculous!

Chloe grit her teeth.

Of course. OF FUCKING COURSE!

“Chloe! Please listen to me!” The Cat was pleading to her.

Chloe felt numb. Her mind still registering the truth.

Because how dare she? How dare she?!

How dare SHE of all people fool her like this!

Words seemed to warble through the static surrounding her.

“You don’t have to do this!”

Have to? Of course she didn’t.

Want to? Oh, she certainly did.

“If Hawk Moth gets both Miraculous, he’ll make the Wish and it could be catastrophic!”

Chloe rolled her eyes.

Like that pathetic stray knew anything.

Of course anyone would say whatever they could to convince Chloe. She barely paid him any mind, still ruminating over the clear deception. How Marinette had gotten one over on her. Again.

All this time, Marinette must have been laughing at her. Trying to use her! Now she lost and Chloe won and people were still acting like she knew better! Like she was still so perfect!

Pathetic.

How could Chloe have ever looked up to her?

“Chloe, please! You can’t let Hawk Moth win!”

“Shut up!”

Hawk Moth wasn’t the winner here, she was!

And she would prove it!

She didn’t even need to waste a wasp on the sidekick. With the guards holding him in place and at her command presenting his hand to her, she was able to get to his Ring easily. His attempts to throw them off or keep his hand closed and protected were useless as she removed the ring, causing his transformation to dissipate.

She gaped.

“Adrien?!”

Him. Adrien Agreste. The boy she loved. The only one who was good enough for her. And he was staring back at her from the same spot where that stupid cat had been.

Adrien…staring at her in a mix of horror and disappointment and rage.

“Chloe…how could you?”

How could she? No! How could he?! He knew who she was this whole time! Why didn’t he tell her? Why didn’t he stand up for her when Ladybug told her she wouldn’t be Queen Bee again? Or hell, give her the Miraculous in the first place? She thought they were friends!

She shoved away from him.

This…

This wasn’t her Adrien!

“Excellent job, Miracle Queen.” Hawk Moth called, pulling her from her thoughts. “Now bring me their Miraculous and the glory shall be yours.”

A pause.

She considered.

Ladybug was defeated. Hawk Moth had won. He had won because of Chloe—the person whom Ladybug—Marinette had looked down on. The city was under her control. Now everyone HAD to listen to and obey her.

Marinette had lost everything and could do nothing about it while Chloe was free to be the Queen she always deserved to be.

Wasn’t this enough?

Wasn’t all of this…finally enough?

Silence.

Hawk Moth was waiting.

Her subjects were waiting.

Everyone was waiting on Chloe.

It was all about Chloe now.

So…wasn’t that enough?

“No.”

This wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t nearly good enough to appease her.

Hawk Moth frowned.

“What?”

“No!” She replied. “I don’t have to. I don’t want to. And now that I have these, I don’t need to.”

She smirked up at him.

“I don’t need you anymore! I don’t need any of you!”

She held up the two Miraculous in victory.

“Now I’M the one in charge!”

“Chloe, don’t do it!” Adrien shouted. “You don’t know what the Wish will do!”

“I’m not listening to you anymore!” She shouted. “When Ladybu—when SHE refused to give me my Miraculous back, where were you?”

“Chloe!”

“NO! What right does she have to say who deserves a Miraculous or not? She should never have been Ladybug!” She shouted, stomping her foot. “She doesn’t deserve it! I do! And I just want what I deserve!”

“Miracle Queen, don’t be foolish!” Hawk Moth ordered. “You are to hand over the Miraculous to me!”

“So you can just take my power away and leave me in the dust? I don’t think so! No!” Chloe shook her head. “This power is mine!”

The power and the Wish—wasn’t that what they had said? Wasn’t that what Hawk Moth had been after all this time?

Well, it was Chloe who won. Not Hawk Moth or any of his other lame akumas! HER! So Chloe earned this!

Which meant that the Wish was rightfully hers!

She turned towards Marinette with a smirk.

And she knew exactly what she wanted with it!

But first, best to get the riff-raff out of her way.

With a flick of her control, the wasps converged on Hawk Moth and Mayura. In a matter of seconds, they were under her control as well. The last thing she needed was either of them getting in her way.

The kwamis gaped at her in surprise, like they didn’t think Chloe could plan for things? Please! These peons were so below her it was embarrassing!

Chloe was smart! She was smarter than anybody! Better than everybody! Certainly better than that wannabe heroine! Even the universe agreed! Why else would she be blessed as she was?

She looked down at the two Miraculous in her hands with a smirk because this? This just proved it!

Of course she was better! And now everyone would know it, too!

Especially…

She turned to face Marinette once more.

Because this time, there would be no interruptions for Chloe’s gloating.

And boy, was she going to gloat.

“So…how does it feel to be the one to lose for once?”

Marinette simply stared blankly, as if she didn’t actually understand what Chloe was talking about.

“All this time,” Chloe continued. “You’ve been playing it up for the masses. Making everyone love you. Pretending like you were actually worth something. And all just to look down on everyone and boost your own ego!”

She laughed.

It sounded hollow to her own ears.

She pushed through.

“Like it wasn’t bad enough even as a civilian! You were always showing off! I bet being a hero was everything you ever dreamed of so you could get twice the attention!”

Marinette didn’t respond.

Adrien, however, did.

“That’s not true!” He shouted, struggling in vain to pull out of the hold as he defended his ‘Lady’. Gag. Miss her with that shit. “She’s never shown off or done any of this for attention! She’s not that selfish!”

Chloe was only more infuriated.

“Of course she is! The glory! The popularity! The power it gives you over other people! Why else would someone like her be a hero?”

Adrien actually seemed to find his spine, because he glared at her.

“That might be what you would do, Chloe. But that’s your choice. That’s how you choose to respond to things. Not everyone is like that!”

“Adrikens!” She gasped, appalled that he would argue against her like this.

“No, Chloe! You’ve done some horrible things, but this is probably the worst! You helped Hawk Moth! You betrayed everyone!”

“Oh please!” She said, brushing him off. “I wasn’t helping him, I was only using him. Now the city is safe and it’s all thanks to me!”

“Then why aren’t you freeing everybody?” Adrien demanded. “Why reveal Marinette? Why take over the other heroes and make them fight us? Why not just use your power to control Hawk Moth and let everyone else go?”

“Why should I?” She asked, flippantly. “They were all useless anyway.”

She had always wanted people to respect and obey her, and now they would! So she would be waited on like the Queen she was, and they would have some actual purpose to their lives.

Really, if anything, she was the gracious one, here.

It wasn’t like any of them were useful otherwise.

But something seemed to upset Adrien, as he winced at her statement and shook his head. She didn’t really know why.

“No one is useless.”

She sighed.

“Oh, Adrikens.” She looked at him in pity. The poor boy just didn’t get how the world worked. “Of course they are. Why else am I here in charge,” she asked, gesturing to herself before turning her hand to gesture to the unmoving ‘Guards’ around them, “and they’re there waiting for orders?”

Whatever response he seemed to be expecting from her, that apparently wasn’t it as he stared at her in shock.

“Chloe, that’s horrible!”

“What? It’s only the truth.”

She won. Lady—Marinette lost. Everyone had to obey her. Why wouldn’t that be the case if she was wrong?

“But it’s okay now!” Chloe said cheerfully as she turned back to him. And—oh, he was drawing back from her. Here poor Adrikens. He always was skittish.

“Now it’s just the two of us. We can do whatever we want, live however we want, and have nothing to worry about. If there’s anything we need done, the peons can take care of it.“

She smiled.

“It’s you and me against the world!”

Just like it always was.

Just like it was supposed to be.

But Adrien…

…he only seemed to look more upset at that. Pale. Almost sick.

“No.”

She blinked, surprised.

“No?”

“No!” He repeated with more emphasis. “I don’t want that! Nobody wants that!”

“I want that!” She replied. Because that was what mattered! As long as she got what she wanted, things were fine! And now they always would be since she would always get what she wanted! What was wrong with that?

“Nobody else wants that!” Adrien bit out.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, they don’t matter.”

Honestly, he must have been stuck under Marinette’s thumb too long to actually take that whole ‘hero’ role seriously. Seriously, people were there to help THEM, not the other way around. It’s a good thing she saved him from that line of thinking.

“They do matter!” Adrien said with a hiss.

He paused, his gaze falling on Marinette.

“She matters.”

And his voice had gone so quiet and soft. She couldn’t recall a time he had ever spoken that way to her.

It only infuriated her.

“Oh please! What has she ever done for me?!”

Adrien actually seemed to look annoyed now. That was actually a new look for him, and she couldn’t recall a time he seemed so angry.

“Do you want a list?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, there isn’t nearly enough to bother counting, much less make a list—”

“She stood up for you time and again. Both as Ladybug AND as Marinette. More than she had to, especially as the person you’ve been bullying all this time!” He stated flatly, giving her a glare. “She helped you with your Mom and supported you. She gave up on a once in a lifetime opportunity just because you were upset she was the one getting the offer to go with your mother instead of you. And that Queen Bee party everyone put on? Her work. She was the one who got everyone to do it.”

“No, she didn’t!” All of that was just because Chloe was that awesome and people had finally realized it.

“She did!” He insisted. “She stood up for you to Alya over your blatantly false account of how Zombizou was defeated and she got everyone to convincing everyone to throw you a party to make up for saying you weren’t a hero! Even though you never apologized! Even after you tried to get her kicked out of her home city!”

Chloe huffed. “Well, she deserved it! And why should I have had to apologize for anything? It was her own fault I had to do any of that to put her in her place! If she had left, everything would have been better off!”

That way, there would have been no one to challenge her. No one to take attention. No one to be compared to. No one to be reminded was ‘better’. No one for people to admire instead of her.

“She was useless anyway.”

And he just…stared at her. Like she was something abhorrent. Someone he couldn’t even recognize.

“What?” She groused.

A pause.

And then a quiet admission. Spoke just above a whisper but still somehow louder than anything Chloe had heard before.

“Marinette was right. I should never have defended you to her.”

Chloe reared back in hurt.

“Adrien—!”

He only glared at her.

“That day you announced you were leaving, everyone was glad. Nobody was sad to see you go, Chloe! Not one person!”

“That’s not true!”

“They were celebrating, Chloe!”

She froze.

“What?”

“Our entire school was literally throwing a party the instant they heard you would be gone!” He explained. “Teachers were hugging and crying in relief! They canceled classes! There was a conga line at the time I showed up! Fireworks, music, confetti—the works!”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“But...no. That was a party for me. To thank me!”

“Not originally.” Adrien corrected her. “They changed the reason for the party after the akuma attack, but reused everything from it. They just added a banner. That party was only started because you were leaving, Chloe. Not so you would stay.”

She gaped.

She had known they hated her...but that much?

“And the real reason—the only reason they did even that much to turn it around for you was because Marinette asked them to. And that was after you threw a tantrum and tried to get her banished from Paris just for saying you weren’t a hero!”

“But I was!” She shouted, stomping her foot. “I was Queen Bee!”

“Not at that time, you weren’t!” Adrien shot back. “You were a thief who used a stolen Miraculous to try to crash a train!”

“It was her fault for losing it—!”

“Marinette was on that train!” The bug kwami exclaimed, suddenly speaking up. “She and her parents could have died because of your stunt! Her saying you weren’t a hero after that was not only justified, but the very least you deserved!”

Adrien hadn’t seemed to know that previously, as he stared at the kwami in horror.

“She and her family—all of those passengers could have pressed charges! They should have! But Marinette believed you could be better!”

It glared up at her.

“Her saying you weren’t a hero at a time when you had done nothing worthy of the title was nothing compared to that!”

“Shut up!” She hissed, making the thing glare at her. “What does a bug know?”

“Enough.” Adrien cut in. “Do you really think anyone would have decided on their own to throw a party to thank you for something you caused in the first place?”

She didn’t believe it. She refused!

It was only because of her that the city was saved! Was a little gratitude so uncalled for? Seriously, after what she did for them, she deserved a parade at least! They’re just lucky she intervened at all!

She huffed. “Well, it was only the least they could have done after I saved the city from my dad!”

“Who only threatened the city because you upset him to begin with by demanding something he couldn’t give without unfairly hurting people!”

“Unfair?! You want to talk unfair? You heard what she said about me! That I wasn’t a hero! How was that fair?!”

“Because it was the truth?” The black cat kwami replied with a smirk.

Adrien shook his head and just…looked at her like he was disappointed. Like she actually did anything wrong! “It says something that you put Marinette in danger and she still tried to get everyone to appreciate you with that Queen Bee party.”

She blew up at that.

“She only did that because of you!” Chloe practically screamed. “Because she’s so in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

Adrien started in surprise.

“She loves me?”

And she couldn’t believe it, but the damned fool was actually starting to smile and his ears were turning pink! Like that was supposed to be something to be glad about!

Marinette had only ever acted for Adrien’s attention. Even that time she comforted Chloe as Ladybug when her dad was akumatized was probably just to look good to him! It didn’t matter that no one else was there to see her breakdown, it had to have been part of her plan!

She just had to explain it to him! Adrien would be on her side! He was her friend, after all!

“She was only acting nice to make herself look good to you!” She insisted.

He blinked and the happy look was gone. Chloe smirked at that, because he should be disgusted!

But Adrien only shook his head at her.

“Regardless of the reason she did that for you, she’s still the only one who did. Nino didn’t stop DJing that party out of friendship for me. The teachers didn’t corral the students or end the party out of duty to their jobs. The students didn’t receive any lecture for an unauthorized party on school grounds, celebrating a peer leaving, or just about having basic kindness and respect for others. The only one—the only one who not only stopped but advocated on your behalf to get everyone else to do the right thing was Marinette.”

He gestured to the city around them.

“And now after this, I have to wonder if it was really the right thing after all...”

She balked.

“What? No! Adrikens—”

“STOP calling me that!” He shouted sharply.

She took in a breath.

He…never…

Even when he was mad at her, he never talked to her like that!

“Adri—”

“I hate it. I hate that name. I hate how you call me that. I hate how you cling to me and hurt people and try to drive people away but also drive them away from me like I’m not allowed to have friends besides you and I hate…”

He took a breath, coming to a decision.

“...I hate you, Chloe.”

She stared at him, waiting for some sign that this was a joke. Because he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it, right?

But Adrien glared back at her unflinchingly.

She felt her heart freeze.

He...

He meant it.

He really and truly meant it.

“You...you can’t be serious! You would turn on me? For her?!”

He didn’t take it back! Why wasn’t he taking it back?!

“You promised! You promised me, Adrien, that you would always be my friend!”

“Chloe, you don’t know what friends are!” Adrien exclaimed. “To you, they’re either supposed to be servants like Sabrina or things to ‘own’ like me! And I didn’t know better before because I only ever had you. But since I’ve started school, I’ve learned what friendship is!”

He looked away, guiltily.

“I wish I had learned it sooner.”

She stared.

This…

This couldn’t be.

There was no way this was real.

Adrien. Her Adrikens!

“Are you really going to abandon me, Adrien?” She asked. “You, of all people? I thought…I thought you understood.”

He winced.

But he didn’t take it back. Not one bit.

She clenched her fists.

“Fine! Then…then if you want to be with them so much, I’ll just make you one of them!” She shouted, ignoring the tears stinging her eyes. “Then you’ll have to stay with me!”

He looked her in the eyes, solemn but stern.

“It won’t be real, Chloe. Whatever we had…whatever you would call it is already gone.”

“But it doesn’t have to be!” She insisted. “I have the Miraculous. I can just…there’s a Wish! If the world won’t let us be together and perfect, then I can just Wish for it!”

It was in equal parts a plea and a warning. For him to give in, just as he always had. For him to stay by her side like he’d promised.

He clenched his fists. But refused to back down.

“Whatever you do. Whatever world you create. My feelings won’t change.”

“We’ll see about that!”

“Don’t do it!” The bug kwami shouted. “Making a Wish should never be done, especially for selfish reasons!”

“I’m not selfish!” Chloe argued. “I’m the most selfless person I know!”

Adrien didn’t look impressed. Neither did the kwamis. If anything, the bug one looked furious.

“You can’t ignore all the horrible things you’ve done and reasons people could have to not like you, then turn around and figure that doing one nice thing after hurting someone means they now owe you somehow!”

“What,” Chloe bit out, “am I supposed to be owing her instead?” She demanded, gesturing to the still frozen Marinette.

“No!” Tikki replied, earnestly. “Because friendships are not about owing each other!”

“Since when were we friends?” Chloe laughed, jerking away from the annoying pink…thing. “Everyone is so below me it’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

The thing looked up at her, almost pityingly. “Chloe, you clearly care. That day when you were going to leave Paris, you were crying because you didn’t have any friends.”

Chloe stomped her foot. “That’s not true!”

“But you can have friends!” It insisted. “You just need to be nice—”

“I AM nice!”

“You’ve hurt people, Chloe! Intentionally and maliciously! And right now, you were helping a terrorist just because you didn’t get the Bee Miraculous on demand!”

“It was MINE!” Chloe shouted. “She took it away from me! How was that fair?!”

“It was never YOURS!” The kwami argued. “There is a duty! A responsibility involved! The Miraculous is not a toy! It it not a thing you can just use as you wish! It is a magical artifact that must be used for the greater good! It has a kwami with a name feelings attached to it! Did you ever even talk to Pollen?”

Chloe faltered, but then scoffed. “What would you know?”

Geez, did Marinette always let this thing talk so much?

It was Adrien who answered. “Of course not. Because you never do, Chloe. You don’t talk to people. You don’t consider people. You don’t look at anyone outside of yourself to even notice the effect you’re having.”

The black thing laughed. “You’ve caused a good half of the akumatizations in the city! In all our time active here so far, it says something that we have spent more akuma fights protecting you than any other person.”

The bug nodded. “And not once—not once have you ever so much as acknowledged doing anything wrong! Much less apologized!”

Oh, now Chloe knew she was full of it. “Because I wasn’t wrong, duh!”

She was. Because why else would Ladybug refuse her when Chloe had already proven herself? And she had! No other hero was nearly as good as her!

“Of course I wasn’t wrong!” She insisted. “Because even the universe knows it! That’s why I won! I’m a better person, a better hero, and a better Guardian than she could ever try to be!”

The bug was having none of it.

“Marinette is a better Ladybug—a better person than you ever will be. And that’s because she chooses to be kind! Regardless of the circumstances!”

It glared at her defiantly.

“Even if your positions were switched, that wouldn’t change.”

Chloe glared. “Why you—!”

How dare she?! Acting like she was better than her?

But Adrien cut her off.

“I kept telling myself that they don’t understand. That I knew who you really were. That other people just didn’t know you.”

Chloe gave a disgusted look at the prospect. She didn’t get why he looked so angry though?

Or why that look was directed at her?

He…wasn’t still serious about hating her, was he?

Adrien shook his head, completely infuriated.

“But I was just making excuses. It wasn’t that they didn’t know you…it’s that I didn’t.”

She balked.

“What? Of course you know me!”

It was why he was so perfect. And the only one worthy of her, after all!

Or…well…had been, she remembered, shooting him a petulant glare.

But Adrien refused to be cowed.

“The Chloe I thought I knew never would have done what you have! You were willing to go this far—help the enemy and take over the city all for the sake of your own self interests! Even if she had given you the Bee this time…what about the next time? Or the time after?”

This was irritating. He was acting like Chloe was the one bringing THEM down.

“At least I would have gotten my Miraculous!” She pointed out. Because that was what mattered here! It was only what she deserved and Marinette was the one in the wrong for not giving it to her! Everything would have been fine if she had!

Adrien glared at her—and she couldn’t recall a time he looked so angry. Not with anyone. And especially not with her.

“I had already enabled you enough, Chloe. And I encouraged others to do the same, thinking it would help you. That if they got to know you—if you had enough support, eventually you would open up and finally be the great person you always seemed to think you were. That they just needed to give you a chance and you would be satisfied and everyone would finally get along. But I was wrong.”

He looked done. No, even worse, he looked done with her!

He hung his head.

And near whispered:

“You’re the sort of person who is never satisfied with anything.”

And with that, Chloe broke.

“SHUT UP!”

With a wave of her hand, the wasps surged forward and Adrien was made into another of her mindless thralls. But she didn’t care. He was as good as lost to her anyway and in her mind, there was only one person to blame.

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

She spun around on the expressionless Marinette in a rage, zeroing in on the cause of all her problems. Even now, the former hero still somehow looked so goddamn noble!

“You don’t deserve to be Ladybug!” She shouted, eyes wide and spittle flying. “You don’t deserve your Miraculous! You don’t deserve your life! You don’t deserve ANYTHING!”

She clenched her fists tighter.

Her palms hurt, drawing her attention back to her clenched fists and specifically to the two Miraculous she had in each.

She smirked.

“I do. And now I have the power to fix that!”

She turned away, putting the Ring on her finger.

"You becoming Ladybug was a fluke!” She continued, moving on to the earrings. “You just got lucky! It was just a chance! Anyone else could have had it!”

She put in one earring.

“I could have had it! I would have deserved it more!"

She put in the other earring.

“I deserve it more than you!”

“Don’t!” Came a little voice—the pink kwami. Whatever the hell her name was was now floating in front of her waving her arms frantically. “The Wish isn’t without consequences!”

Chloe cut Tikki off.

“Just shut up and grant my Wish!”

The bug gasped right before her mouth disappeared. Nice! Chloe liked this feature.

But there was still the distinct lack of Wish-granting.

“Well?” She demanded.

The black one floated up to her.

“You’re going to have to actually say what your Wish is, first.” He said amicably.

See? This is what she needed. Simple. Sweet. And straight to the point! If only more servants could be like this!

Of course, if Chloe knew Plagg—or if she was just paying attention, she would have noticed the smirk on his face and been wary of it.

Plagg was a chaotic little kwami. As such, he was never this pleasant, especially to those who were going to use him in a way he didn’t like.

Chloe did not know this. And in this moment, she was too driven by rage and spite to consider it.

She was used to Pollen, after all. A quiet, subservient kwami who was perfectly fitted to Chloe—a person who was used to quiet, subservient people in her life.

Plagg was neither quiet nor subservient.

When he was, it was a sign to worry.

Perhaps if Adrien had been in control of himself, he could have warned her.

Perhaps if she had put more thought into Marinette’s attempts to help her previously, she would have reconsidered.

Perhaps if she had just given more consideration to Tikki's own warnings against it, she would have taken her time.

But Chloe Bourgeois had won.

She won. Everyone else lost. And that was all that mattered, so it was all she needed to think about.

And thus, without hesitation. Without thinking twice.

“I Wish—“

Chloe made the Wish to rewrite the world.

And

i t

a l l

w e n t

b l a c k . . .

.

.

.

.

.

.

Reality is not as one would expect. It is both more complicated and yet also more simple than one would think. Thus, there is no scientific way to adequately explain the process through which things are rewritten so that something that once was not now is and always has been. Or vice versa.

That is what metaphor is for.

Imagine, if you will, that the story as we know it is a performance. Particularly a play. One where the people we have met—from Marinette to Adrien to Hawk Moth and everyone inbetween are all actors filling certain “roles”. And imagine further that the Universe itself is equivalent to a Director overseeing these actors and their performance.

It was a passable show. Mixed reviews so far. Decent performance depending on the actor and their scene. But overall, it was entertaining enough and there weren’t any major issues.

Not until one of those actors just up and stopped the entire performance in the middle of the climax to complain about the show, insult the Director’s choices, and demand everything be redone with her in a different role.

Now the Universe is not a person. It does not have a form. It simply is. And despite having a will and a sick sense of humor, it is in no way a human.

…but if it WERE a human, what happened next would be the equivalent of it tilting its head and considering the defiant actor before it and said actor’s ridiculous demand.

For one eternity…

Two…

Before shrugging and simply saying “You know what? Fine.”

There was a sound of a “snap”.

The feeling of a curtain closing.

Darkness.

A shuffle from behind the stage.

A cough from the audience.

Then the curtains lifted.

And Chloe Bourgeois woke up in a room she had never been in before.

[redfoxgaming41]

Reunited

This was a request by anonymous and it was cool as hell so I am writing it!

I’m doing this in a one-shot format but it might be a bit crappy since I’m not too good at it!

Warning(s): Slight angst but happy ending, cursing, mention of injuries

(Reader is Female for this)

Let’s get this started!!

——————————————————————————

** 3rd person POV**

You were known as (y/n) to your family and friends, you looked like a normal 11 year old human girl but with a not so normal adoptive family.

You were abandoned by your biological parents before they were killed off by some bad guy and then you were picked up off of the ground by a green looking person wearing something red on his face. You now recognize him as Raphael, your older brother who you look up to the most. You obviously have your other brothers as well, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Leonardo. You were basically a mini version of all of them.You loved your brothers and they loved you, they were all pretty overprotective of you as well.

Until everything went downhill.

-

Everything happened so fast you couldn’t believe what was happening, foot soldiers flooded the lair and started attacking your brothers while some big metal man with blades for arms started to attack your father. You wanted to help them but you weren’t as better trained as your father and brothers so you fought the urges. You saw your brothers start to attack the metal man which you now knew was called shredder, and the fight wasn’t looking too well for them. That’s when you saw shredder almost stab Raph.

You felt something inside of you that you’ve never felt before and you didn’t know how to describe it, but it made your blood boil. You quickly rushed over there as fast as you could before your brother was hurt and just closed your eyes and let instincts take over. And by instincts I mean the fact that you turned into a whole wolf and started biting the arm of shredder. You bit through his armor and into his flesh, you couldn’t even control what you were doing, you just knew that you must protect your brothers. Shredder flung you across the room but it didn’t affect you badly, you were back on your feet once again. But you then felt sharp pains in your neck that led you to pass out. Shredder was impressed by your powers and decided to take you with him to “experiment” on you. Even if your brothers and Sensai protested, he easily beat them to the ground and took you with him.

“(Y/N)!!”

“(Y/N)!! PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“(Y/N)!!! YOU’RE STRONG!! WAKE UP PLEASE!!”

“(Y/N)!!!”

Once your brothers were fine again, they instantly were talking about different plans to get you out of shredders hands.

^Time skip~ Two Years^

Your brothers were still on the lookout for you but they weren’t having any luck, they did however find Casey Jones who knew about Shredder, and your parents. They were also still doing their vigilante jobs, protecting New York from any bad people that resigned in it.

“Something could have happened to her! Like she could have gotten mutated-“

“Well she can turn into a wolf so that sorta makes her a hybrid mutant.”

“I guess...but she could be getting hurt there! Or could have already gotten killed!”

“Calm down Raph, she’s strong. I’m sure she’s still alive.”

“You don’t know that, none of us know that.”

**Raphs POV**

Finally, after finally getting the polices trust we can take down whatever the fuck is building this spaceship in the sky. Especially that it’s destroying New York in the process.

“So we’re going up there then jumping on one of those fucking flying pieces in order to land on the base of the ship thing?” I asked Leo.

“Yes, that’s the only possible way we can get up there.” He confirmed with a small sigh. And we went through with that whole plan. The police got us into the building by putting up their shields so civilians wouldn’t see us and off we went onto the roof. As quick as possible we made it up and we’re figuring out which platform to jump on. Donnie found a good one and we hopped on, not the smoothest ride but it was all we had.

**3rd Person POV**

The fight wasn’t going too smoothly for the brothers, especially when they figured out that krang worked with shredder until something happened. But all they need to to send the ship back into the dimension it was coming from. If only it were that easy but it wasn’t. They were facing a serious hardship, especially with The Krangs Advanced tech and suit. They honestly might have almost given up, until someone came into the battle.

It was a big wolf, same color as they last seen their...sister as...

And the wolf was pretty fucking good too! Ripping off parts of Krangs robotic limbs and even some of his tentacle looking things. Needless to say the turtles were impressed but it still have a bit of a downfall though. The Krangs managed to trap the wolves leg under his foot, not enough to break it but enough to stop the wolf from running. The turtles almost charged into the battle once more until the wolf called out.

“Raph! Give me one of your Sai’s!”

Raph recognized that voice, the only voice that belonged to (y/n). He almost did it without hesitation but he threw one of his sai’s to the wolf. She caught it in her mouth and turned her head to face The Krang. Donnie was watching all of this from the area where he was supposed to make the ship fall apart and go back to where it came from but didn’t do it yet because then they might not have enough time to escape and be sucked into the dimension as well. The wolf then transformed into something but the brothers couldn’t quite see what it was because the light was blinding but after it cleared up they saw someone that they never thought they would see again.

(y/n)

Except you looked more badass, plus you were two years older than they last seen you.

You were quick to think, turning around and stabbing The Krang right in his blobbly face. At this point Donnie had already started the whole “Spacship is going back to its dimension” thing so there was little time but it gave Donnie the ability to fight again so he did what anyone would do if there was a high tech pink blob villain on a giant spaceship and your only weapon was a Bo-Staff that had a taser on one end of it. PLUNG IT STRAIGHT INTO THE HEAD AND ELECTROCUTE THE THING!

^Time skip (sorry) after the fight^

Everything went surprisingly well, they won the battle and they get their sister back. Just because it was a happy day for them and with getting keys to the city, they still are the overprotective brothers you knew and loved. Especially the one in red. You finally got to meet the infamous Casey Jones but not only was he a couple feet away but Raph was behind you the whole time making sure he didn’t say nor look at you the wrong way.

“Come on Raph! I just want to introduce myself to her! Why are you so protective!?”

“Because not only is she my younger sister, she also sacrificed her life for us and I want to be more protective of her even more.”

“Fair point but can I at least shake her hand!”

“NO!”

You were happy to be back, to be back in New York.

And to be back with your brothers. ❤️💙🧡💜

[lunasquared]

First Encounter

Chapter 1 of Rebuild All You Have Broken

Written for Villainous July @multiverse-irondad-july run by @superherotiger and @kevyfanfics

Materlist - Read on AO3 - Next Chapter

Summary: Peter finally encounters the notorious villain Iron Man and it goes nothing like he expects.

Story below the cut

Peter sighed as he sat crouched on top of a building surveying the city and listening to the report from below about yet another attack by the infamous Iron Man, the villain who has been terrorizing New York for the past months.  For the most part, at least from what Peter had gathered, Iron Man had been destroying Stark Industry buildings around New York that had housed weapons and every attack he was in and out before anyone knew what was going on.  But for the other times he looked to be destroying random buildings throughout the city that no one knew what they held or what their purpose was.  The guy had never killed anyone, but from what Peter could tell his morals rode that extremely fine line between killing someone and seriously injuring them.  Only problem was that Peter could only take that guess from the looks of things.  He had never actually met the guy. 

For the number of times Peter had been out as Spider-Man and then later heard about an Iron Man attack during the same time block, it was almost surprising to Peter that they had never run into each other, but at the same time Peter would never complain about that.  He was unsure about what Iron Man would do if they did run into each other.  From what Peter had heard anytime Iron Man had a run in with some sort of hero, be the Avengers, or any type of vigilante like Peter, it never ended well for the other party.  Iron Man always won and the other would come out extremely injured.  So yeah, Peter was thankful to not have a runin with Iron Man, but that did not mean he was actively avoiding the villain either.  Peter was in the grey area in between actively avoiding and actively seeking out.  If he ran into Iron Man, great!  He could actually attempt to do something to stop the villain.  If not then he was perfectly fine going about his typical Spider-Man patrols.  

Peter knew that eventually his luck would run out.  He would run into Iron Man and have to face him, however today was not that day as patrol was normal.  Or well as normal as a city patrol could be.  Stopping a few muggings, finding lost bike owners, finding a few lost pets.  Normal for a patrol.  And when Peter crawled through the window of his apartment that night and climbed into bed after changing, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer “normal” would last.

~~~

Turns out normal didn’t last much longer, only a few days.  Patrol did start normal for Peter, that is until he heard a large explosion nearby that of course he had to check out.  When Peter got to the explosion site he wasn’t sure what to expect, but based on the amount of destruction, he immediately knew who the culprit was.  Peter did a quick survey of the area looking for any sort of casualty when he saw the iconic gold and red form fly out from the debris.  As much as Peter wanted to stay and help those who were potentially injured, he knew the first responders would be able to do a better job than him at helping out, so he quickly took off after Iron Man.

“Stop!”  Peter called out in attempts to get Iron Man’s attention.  

Iron Man of course didn’t respond so Peter pushed himself harder trying to catch up to Iron Man before he disappeared.  

“I said stop!”  Peter yelled again trying to swing faster to catch up.

Peter was unsure how long the attempt at chasing Iron Man went on, but as he slowly fell further and further behind he knew that catching Iron Man by swinging would be a futile attempt.  In one last attempt in desperation Peter shot out a web at Iron Man, unsure if he was trying to just slow him down or distract him in some way, but whatever he was trying to do it worked because Iron Man stopped and slowly turned around to face Peter.  Even though there was a mask covering his face, Peter could see the raised eyebrow and almost shocked face behind the mask.  

“Excuse you?”  Iron Man said in a way that had Peter jolting to a stop on top of the building nearest Iron Man.

“Excuse me?”  Peter repeated exasperated.  “You’re the one who blew up a building then ran away.”

“And you had the nerve to shoot a- whatever that is at me.”  Iron Man said, peeling the web off his suit.  “And I flew away.  I didn’t run.”

“You still blew up a building!”

“And you still interrupted me.  Which I must say is bold for a little spider like yourself.”  Iron Man said with a smirk and bite of venom in his voice that made Peter want to coward away.

But he didn’t fold in on himself and leave like every instinct in his body was screaming to do.  No, instead he put on his brave face and tried to stand a little taller in front of the villain.  It was an attempt to stand his ground, to say he wasn’t moving no matter what.  Peter had a feeling how this would end and he knew the odds were not on his side.  But luck and odds were never what had driven Peter before so why would he let that drive him now?

“Bold because no one stands up to you?”  Peter questioned, thankful that the slight tremble of his limbs didn’t give way into his voice.  

“No.”  Iron Man stated simply.  “Bold because those who do typically don’t make it out.”  

  Peter knew what those words meant, it wasn’t hard to interpret them and it wasn’t hard to remember those who had attempted standing up to Iron Man in the past.  He had seen some of them first hand.  Never the attack itself, but the aftermath of trying to help.  And while Peter never wanted to be on the receiving end of it, at the moment it was looking pretty likely that he would be.  

“Why?”  Peter asked in an attempt to stall the inevitable.  

“Why?”  Iron Man repeated.  “Well why not?”

Iron Man was playing games and though Peter was stalling he didn’t like games like this, there was always an ulterior motive with the games when someone played along with the stalling.  So what was the motive?  This whole conversation wasn’t right.  Iron Man never talked to anyone this long.  If someone tried to stop him, he attacked.  It was simple, it was predictable, so what was different about now?  What was different about stalling with Peter, what was the reason for it?

Peter racked his mind trying to find a reason for the stalling.  There was nothing different with this attack compared to the others.  At least from what Peter could tell there wasn’t.  So why this?  Why stall?  Why even have a chance to reveal something?  Why make that chance?

“Why are you stalling?”  Peter finally asked, too curious to not say anything.

“You’re stalling as well so you can’t really be asking that question.”  Iron Man shot back.  

Then Peter heard it.  It was faint, but it was the telltale sound of Iron Man’s suit flying.  But Iron Man was right in front of him so how?  Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw something shift in Iron Man’s demeanor, almost like he was more confident, more cocky.

“Ah so you finally hear it now.  Interesting.  But maybe now you’ll finally get it.”  Iron Man’s voice dropped into something filled with so much venom, so much confidence.  “You will never be able to stop me.  No one will, because I’m everywhere.”

Iron Man flew off and Peter stood in shock watching as he went.  He had a conversation with Iron Man and didn’t end up in the hospital.  Except now he was more curious than ever about Iron Man.  Did he have partners?  Were they just other suits?  Was Iron Man somehow playing him and didn’t even have other suits?  

There were too many questions running through Peter’s mind, there was no way he would be able to continue patrol like this, he would end up zoning out and getting hurt.  So after a few minutes of allowing himself to be in shock Peter took a deep breath and took off towards his apartment.  

Peter stopped in an alleyway near his apartment and quickly changed before heading upstairs.  When he opened the door he could smell that whatever May was attempting to make was burnt.

“Chinese?”  Peter asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen and giving May a quick hug.  

“Yep I’ll order it now.”  May confirmed giving Peter a kiss on the cheek.

~~~

“Are you okay?”  May asked as Peter shoved the food around on his plate still trying to process everything that had happened today.  

“Yeah.”  Peter said with a nod.  “Just a long day.  I’m ready for school to be over.” 

“You just have a few more weeks, then you have the whole summer.”

Peter nodded he couldn’t wait until school was over.  That meant longer patrols, and not worrying about having to finish up homework when he got back for the night.  The TV pulled Peter out of his thoughts as he heard the reporter mention Iron Man.  

“The notorious villain Iron Man has struck yet again, this time destroying multiple warehouses on the outskirts of Queens.  The contents of those warehouses are still unknown as is Iron Man’s motives for these attacks.  We do know that there were minimal injuries and as of now no casualties during the events of today’s attacks, search and rescue teams are still looking so those are subject to change.  Please if anyone knows any information about any Iron Man attacks or about Iron Man himself please contact the number shown on the screen.”

“I can’t believe there was another attack.”  May said, pulling Peter’s attention away from the screen.  “That’s the third one this month.”

“I wonder why he’s doing it?”  Peter questioned causing May to raise an eyebrow at him.  “I mean his attacks just don’t make sense, why is he targeting Stark Industries or seemingly random places.  It just doesn’t make sense is all.”

May only shrugged.  “Whoever it is and why they’re doing it, I just hope they stop.”

“You and me both.”

~~~

That night Peter laid awake staring at the ceiling replaying his conversation with Iron Man over and over.  There had to be something in that conversation that gave something away as to why he was doing it or to who he was.  Peter knew going over the conversation over and over was worthless and he wouldn’t find anything, but what stuck in his head was why didn’t Iron Man try to fight him?

[maydaymadier]

Time

[Disclaimer: I’m currently slightly more than halfway through the c2 finale and I’m going to try and avoid spoilers since well, there’s still like 3hrs of content to get spoiled on.  Will likely crosspost to my ao3]

“Time, it takes time, not days or weeks or years.  Time.”

Caleb Widogast was right, though to be precise it takes 100 consecutive days of inscribing a teleportation circle in the same place to make it permanent.  Nicodranas was the first teleportation circle Essek Thelyss finished.  100 days of pounding sun and coastal heat felt fitting to start his time.  He had his trepidations about better acquainting himself with Yussa, less so with Ms. Lavorre.  The Nein asked why he needed to make a teleportation circle in Nicodranas, they already had access to Tidepeak Tower’s.  ‘Yes, however, we will not have to give anyone advance notice to use our own.’  

Jester made something of a habit of bringing him a new parasol or sunhat each time she visited, even brought him tinted glasses she found once.  If he knew she was coming he’d make sure to wear one of them.  

Each time he ran out of chalk he’d wrap himself in illusion and teleport himself to Zadash.  Meanwhile, the stores in his towers grew dust-laden, his absence from the Dynasty more suspicious, and he bought his chalk from Enchanter Sol.  The Mighty Nein were a family, regardless of any distance, and he had the means to make distance mean nothing.  So Essek Thelyss carried on.  And on the hundredth day, he stepped into a circle in Nicodranas and stepped out in the Blooming Grove.

He was invited in for tea, as expected, and accepted as was polite.  The next day he found the spot behind the temple where the grass had been flattened by the circle delivering him and started his next hundred days.  He ‘compensated’ for his intrusion with his floating meditative guard each night.  Caduceus seemed to pick up on what he was doing faster than Jester had, by a thin margin.  The remaining Clay children would poke their noses in once and a while, curious about their drow visitor they’d only met briefly before but they remembered him helping garden after Ikithon set the temple ablaze.  They would offer him a plate at meals, he insisted on using his own rations in a strange dance of hospitality and being a polite guest.  

At one point, after finishing the day’s circle he considered venturing through the Savalirwood to Glory Run Road, find Mollymauk’s grave.  But it felt disrespectful to Kingsley somehow in a way he couldn’t articulate.  If he were to be more dramatic it felt like an invasion of privacy to the rest of the Nein as a whole, intruding on a moment on a place where they were unknowing adversaries.  So he kept inscribing circles in the grass and sometimes he found fresh chalk in his component pouch.  On occasion, Caduceus found saplings and cuttings of Xorhasian plants on his windowsill.

On the hundredth day he stepped into the circle in the Blooming Grove and came out under Caduceus’s tree in the Xorhaus.  He was far more careful with this one.  The Xorhaus was sparsely used, bordering on abandoned at this point, more than ready for the Nein to inhabit it once again.  Beauregard, oft accompanied by Yasha, used it the most for when they visited Rosohna on Cobalt Soul business.  The Bright Queen had been more than amenable to working with the Soul once she knew they were dismantling the organization that had stolen the beacons.  

Though it took three days before Beau realized he was working on making a circle on the roof, pruning away his extra time by trying to tame the garden, clad in his rose-patterned gardening gloves, what with his lackluster previous experience.  She offered to go bring him chalk from his towers, anything else he might need that he’d left behind when he was posted in Eiselcross.  He accepted the offer, to eschew suspicion, asking for some simple components that filled any wizard’s pouch.  Sooner than later, soon enough Beau couldn’t knock the truth out of him (not that she needed to do that or would, he was growing increasingly susceptible to disappointed stares from his friends) he stepped into the circle in Rosohna and stepped out in Rexxentrum.

His skin crawled and felt like it would slough off with each passing day.  He wasn’t so bold at this point to attempt and make a circle on Soltryce’s grounds but he did take pleasure in chipping away the next hundred days in the courtyard of Trent Ikithon’s now abandoned tower.  It was a joy, absolutely cathartic tearing apart what little remained hidden away of the bastard’s stores.  The most valuable and precious artifacts and components were hidden in ways only an archmage would even know about or know how to unlock.  Malicious clumsiness might have gotten him to break an important, now inert, magical tool or two as he rummaged through the tower for chalk.  

Though one day, he noticed an owl perched in a tree, watch him for an hour, disappear for a few minutes, reappear, so on and so forth for the whole day.  He had a good idea who the owl was but she never watched him again after that.  If she wanted to know what he was doing here, fine.  It wasn’t like either could rat out the other without drawing unwanted attention to them both.  So on the hundredth day, what little remained of Trent Ikithon’s personal study even more thoroughly destroyed, he stepped into the circle in Rosohna and stepped out.

Essek chipped away at the for now final circle under the watchful light of Pelor.  Passively, the part of him that absorbed every ounce of knowledge, regardless if he cared or not, wondered what the connection may be between whatever the Luxon is and the Dawnfather.  Just a fun little thought experiment to occupy him while he worked through the next hundred days.

By the end of Brussendar, with Highsummer fast approaching, he’d decided that he ought to have brought at least one of Jester’s hats.  Though more importantly he’d decided that the thought was silly and any connection between the two deities must be entirely aesthetic.  Nothing he didn’t already know but what else can a wizard do but overthink?

It wasn’t the same level of festivities he’d heard about with Harvest’s Close but Highsummer seemed to be the close second in Blumenthal.  He sat, disguised in the shade of an oak probably as old as he was and simply watched from afar.  Somewhere in the crowd, he saw a flash of copper.  Tried not to think to much of it.  Red hair seemed slightly more common in this corner of the empire.  He caught the sweeping arc of a long, striped scarf being tossed over a shoulder.  A leather coat dusting at the ground (though he had looked so good in purple).

Caleb Widogast stepped out of the crowd and sat under the oak with him, “I suppose a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.” “I suppose I have,” Essek stared at his feet. Caleb offered him some sort of sweet roll wrapped in paper, “I was not talking about you.” He ignored the comment, “How long has it been?  Since we last spoke.” “Four hundred and eighty-six days.  About a year and a half to be informal,” he just set down the roll next to his hand when he didn’t move to take it. “I keep thinking one day it will have been enough time.” “Looking for the specific number will drive you mad.  Are you just going to keep making circles across Wildemount until you feel that you’ve atoned?” Essek took the roll but only held it,  “I know that I cannot make up for everything.  What are you doing here, anyways?” “I have been trying to convince myself to visit.  Maybe try to pay my respects if I can stomach it.  The others had already told me what you were doing, but Astrid told me where you were going.  Figured now was good a time as any,” his expression darkened, the reality beyond the afterglow of a hard-won victory whispering into both their ears. “I-,” Essek started. “Did you know I was from here before you picked it or did you just want to taunt Rexxentrum by hiding in their breadbasket for a while?” Caleb stared him down. “I knew.” “Alright then.” “I hope I have not intruded in some way by coming here.” “I suppose we were both curious about the echo.  It’s right up your alley, prodigious dunamancer and whatnot,” Caleb glanced back up at the revelers before turning his attention back to him “I would not discount your own skill, you’ve picked up dunamancy quite quickly and with a level of skill I have rarely seen.”  Maybe they can just talk about magic. “Danke.” There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation.

“When do you think-?” Essek tried asking. “I don’t.  I will not pretend to know when enough time will have passed for the past not to hurt us anymore, Essek.  And counting it in teleportation circles will not make it go any faster,” he said, though with the crushing sadness to his eyes of a man who wished he were wrong. “I am trying to make it easier for us to see each other,” he said with easy authority. “It is much easier to see each other when we don’t run off to the four corners,” Caleb added on with a tired chuckle. “What are you implying?”  Something caught between excitement and unease hit him. “I can stay.  Help you finish the circle here, we can leave, make another.  As many circles as we want.  We can have the continent at our fingertips.  Maybe even go back to what remains of Aeor in Eiselcross.  Devexian couldn’t have been the only mechanical inhabitant.  For all we know there is a city of automatons underneath the ice now,” Caleb got more excited and dreamy as he went on, the unbridled excitement of a mage faced with knowledge. “That sounds...nice...,” Essek trailed off, trying to sound as neutral as he could manage. “Do you want that, Essek?”

It felt like the word was tearing its way out of him, “Yes.”

[fictionalabyss]

Backwards bullheaded bullshit.

Pairings : Alpha!Sam x Luna!Reader, Beta!Garth, Alpha!Benny, Alpha!Michael,  Dean x Castiel mentioned, Past Dean x Michael mentioned.

Word count : 1,599

Written for : @spnabobingo

Square : Societal Role Reversal

Warning : Pack style fic, stay at home parent/working parent, soft Sam, tough Reader, Michael can be a dick, protective Sam, strong female not backing down.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

Sam is big, even for an Alpha. He towers over seemingly everyone, even other Alpha’s step out of his way. They all fear him, but they’re about to find out there’s someone they should fear more.

The Alpha family was in the city for the first time since the birth of their daughter. Packs were abuzz with the news, everything had been put on hold while the small family got settled, meetings postponed until further notice, but now, they were scheduled and happening. A meeting of the packs was happening today, every Alpha and Beta across the states making the trip.

Sam moved through the streets on his way out for breakfast, the occasional shocked eyes on him as he moved past, but he paid them no mind at all. Whispers of his name followed him as he pulled open the door of his favorite city diner, owned by a pack member, and stepped inside.

“Good morning, Alpha Sam, I-” the waitress froze, eyes on the small bundle strapped to his chest.

“Coffee.” he informed her, making his way to a table. “Egg white western omelet, turkey bacon.”

“I- yes Alpha.” she scurried off and Sam pulled out a chair and sat in it, the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder being placed in the chair next to him and opened it. “Your coffee.” she placed the piping hot mug on the table in front of him.

“Thank you. Oh, could you heat this up for me, please? She’ll be waking up soon for a feeding.” he smiled down at his daughter in the wrap, so tiny compared to the giant she was strapped to, and handed over a bottle.

“Of course, Alpha.” the waitress all but bowed for him, but didn’t leave just yet.

“Heat it in a pot of water.” Sam informed her, figuring that was why she was lingering. “Not too hot, and be careful, it’s breast milk and I can’t exactly pump more myself.”

“Uh- no, I know, Alpha. It’s not that..”

“Then what is it?”

“I- aren’t you supposed to be at the meeting?”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re being represented just fine.”

The chatter in the room was loud. 12 Alphas surrounded the large table, all talking amongst themselves and their Beta’s who were close by. There were even a few Luna’s relaxing on the couch at the far end of the room, more focused on their phones than anything else.

“Think he’ll finally come?”

“Word is he left his house. And his Beta was seen down in the lobby earlier this morning making sure everything was ready. He must be here.”

“If he is, he’s late. He’s never late.”

The door opened, and everyone turned expecting to see Sam, but were disappointed by the man who strolled into the room. “Boys.” he smiled, pulling off the cap he wore on his head as he moved into the room.

“Where’s your Alpha, Garth. He’s late.”

Garth just smiled and turned towards the door. “Gentlemen.” Everyone looked stunned as you walked in, tight pencil skirt, loose blouse and high heels, folder tucked under your arm. “Sorry I’m late, I had to pump for the baby before I could leave.” You smiled at them before taking your seat at the table, Sam’s seat. “Shall we get started?”

“You’re not the Alpha. Where is Sam?”

“Alpha Sam is spending time with his daughter, so I, and Sam’s Beta Garth,” you gestured over to him seated to your right “will be sitting in in his stead.”

“What makes you think you’re qualified?” the alpha across from you demanded.

You smiled at the man seated directly across from you. “I’m not just some helpless Luna blindly following my mate, Michael.” you deliberately ignored his Alpha title. “And you know that better than anyone.”  You saw how his lip curled up in a sneer. “But if it’s credentials you want..” you shrugged. “I graduated top of my class, majoring in both business and law. I have my own firm and have secured acquisitions of billion dollar companies, three of which I bought out from under three members sitting at this very table, including you.” You smiled sweetly at him. “By the way, I more than doubled the income you were making from it.” you sent him a wink and Garth chuckled to himself, loving this to no end. “I keep up with the day to day of not only my own pack, but all of yours as well. I know that Benny has been dealing with rogues the last few months, I actually have a location for you, Benny, thank Castiel when you see him.” You pulled a paper out of your folder and slid that over to him. “You need lumber.” you pointed off to another alpha. “You need money.” and another. “And you.” your eyes now back on Michael. “You want something you can’t have, but I’m not about to put you on blast in front of them, not unless you push me to.”

“Burned.” Garth mouthed.

“So, can we continue this meeting or do I need to continue to prove that my dick is bigger than yours?”

“Sam’s dick is probably bigger than his whole body.” You heard the whisper and couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips while Michael glared at the culprit.

“Just fucking get this over with.” he pouted.

You smiled triumphantly. "Would any of the other Luna's care to join us? I'm sure I'd love to hear their inputs and opinions." You looked over to them, and saw the surprise on their faces.

“Hey, baby.” you smiled at the infant strapped to Sam’s chest. You were surprised to find him waiting down in the lobby when the meeting finally let out. “Did you have a nice time with daddy?”

“We had a good day.” Sam assured you. When you looked up at him, he smiled and kissed you gently. “How’d it go?” You sighed. “That bad?” A few people who’d been in the elevator with you and Garth moved past, giving Sam nods on their way out.

“At first. Michael wasn’t thrilled. I won the pissing contest in the end, so he fell in line.”

“It was beautiful, Boss.” Garth laughed, coming up behind you. “Fuck, you should have seen it.”

“I wish I had.” Sam was smiling, glad you didn’t let them walk all over you. It was what he loved most about you. The elevators dinged behind you as the door to the second one opened letting people out right as the one you had stepped out of closed and started its assent.

“Sam!” He looked past you and smiled seeing Benny. “Good to see you, brother.”

“Good to see you too, Benny.”

“Hey, thank your brother’s mate for me, for finding those rogues.”

Michael growled as he walked past, and Sam eyed him as he addressed Benny. “You can thank him yourself, why don’t you come over for dinner. What the fuck is your problem?” Sam asked, now addressing Michael, and you turned to look over at the other Alpha.

“You.” Michael snapped. “Fucking Winchesters, too busy playing house to do their fucking jobs.”

“Excuse me?” Sam was about ready to hand off the baby and knock some sense into Michael. This attitude had been going on for too long now.

“You don’t even show up to the meetings you set because you’re too busy playing fucking mama bird. You’re an alpha, for fucks sake. That’s a job for the Luna and pack Omegas. It’s fucking beneath you.”

Sam growled, but you stepped in front of him, getting in Michael's face. “This is why you lost him.” you spat at him. “Because of your backwards bullheaded bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth.” he growled at you. “I’m still an Alpha.”

“You're an asshole. Dean’s a million times better off without you and I’m so fucking glad he had the sense to see it before it was too late.”

Michael bared his teeth with a growl, and Sam was quick to pull you a step back and get between you, the baby no longer strapped to his chest. You could hear Benny behind you coo-ing at her. “Threaten my Luna again, Michael, and you won’t have a fucking pack left to call you Alpha.” Sam threatened.

“Whatever he doesn’t destroy, I’ll buy out.” you added. "At a reduction."

With one last snarl, and Michael stormed off, pissed, his Beta Zachariah hurrying along behind him.

“Gotta love working for the power house couple.” Garth chuckled from behind you, and both you and Sam turned towards him and Benny again. “Admit it, you wanna see Dean’s face when I tell him about how she put Michael in his place again.”

“I really do.” Benny was laughing.

“So, dinner?” Sam asked, holding his hands out to take his daughter back.

“I’ll be there.” Benny smiled down at the little girl in his arms before handing her over to her father. “Got a mate for you to meet, anyways.” He smiled. “Might have a little one of my own coming, too.”

“Benny!” your face lit up at that, and you gave his arm a playful punch. “Why didn’t you tell us!”

“Y'all were busy.” he shrugged. “Telling you now.”

“She’s coming to dinner, and you’re staying for a few days.” you demanded.

“Alright, alright, Jesus. Don’t need you buying out my properties, too.” he teased, hands up in surrender making you laugh again.

“Actually, I was thinking of selling you one.” you smiled at him.

“I’m listening..” he followed as you all started out of the lobby.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Sam -  @evyiione  @hoboal87

SPN -  @sandlee44  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @deanandsamsbitch  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies​

All tags - @sorenmarie87​ @artemisthebadger​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @iflostreturntosteverogers​ @akfonkin​ @rebelminxy​ @foxyjwls007​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @shaelyn102​ @supernaturalenchanted​  @kazkingdom​   @babypink224221​  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @anaelsbrunette​ @lazinessisalliknow  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[sachigram]

Your jealous Shizuo prompt has me reeling, (mostly because of the posessive Shinra) <3 <3 I am now requesting Shinra purposely fanning the flames of Shizuo and Izaya's rivalry throughout high school because he doesn't want either of his friends to like each other more than they like him. Bonus points if Shizuo and Izaya do start dating after high school and Shinra is not a happy camper!

((Lol another one for the “Shinra is a creep” collection))

Shizuo sees less and less of Izaya at school.

Shinra blabs all the time about Izaya and his illegal activities. Apparently Izaya is building some kind of network with the Yakuza and other groups Shizuo despises. Sounds just like the conniving little bastard, and Shizuo only hopes Izaya gets what he deserves in the end.

Rarely, Shizuo will see Izaya in the halls at school. He still shows up for test days, aces them, and then dips out before anyone can miss him. Shizuo wonders how the hell Izaya gets away with it, but everyone seems to find Izaya charming, and Izaya has a reputation for being a genius as well as being a menace.

“He's won awards for poetry, you know?” Shinra says one afternoon, unprovoked, of course.

“That doesn't seem like the kind of thing Izaya would want us knowing,” Kadota replies, and Shinra just laughs.

“Well then he should be here to stop me!”

Shizuo tries to think of Izaya being the kind of guy to write poems. Does he paint, too? Does he spend hours in his room creating things just to destroy them later? That sounds more like Izaya.

“What's with that fond expression?” Shinra asks, turning so he can face Shizuo. He's walking backwards, and Shizuo scowls at him in return. “Do you miss Izaya-kun?”

“Do you want to die today, Shinra?”

“If you kill me, Celty will avenge me!”

“I don't think she'd mind all that much, actually,” Shizuo huffs. “I hope the flea stays gone. I hope he's dead.”

“Mm, you say that, but I think you're bored without him! You've been even quicker to anger than normal without him around,” Shinra says with a pout.

Shizuo considers this. It's true that he's more on edge when Izaya isn't here, but that's because he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Izaya to come back with some catastrophe up his sleeve. Not to mention without Izaya, Shizuo doesn't have much of an outlet for his anger. He still gets in fights, but no one can really stand up to him, and most people in the school are so afraid of him that they don't even brush against him in passing.

“Shut up,” Shizuo says.

Shinra scrutinizes Shizuo's face, and then he's grinning innocently.

“He's probably plotting something for you,” Shinra says. “He really hates you, you know?”

“Shinra, come on,” Kadota says, lifting a hand. “Izaya isn't even here. Why're you trying to rile Shizuo up?”

“I'm not! I'm only saying! You're right to be on edge, Shizuo-kun, that's all. Just keep your guard up!”

Later, when Shinra breaks off from them to head home, Kadota turns to Shizuo.

“Hey, don't listen to Shinra. I don't think what he said was even true.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks. He was thinking about what Izaya could be planning, so it takes him a moment to comprehend what Kadota said.

“It's just that he...” Kadota rubs the back of his neck as if he feels awkward. “I don't think Izaya plots every second of his time around you, you know? I'm not saying he's not an asshole to you, and I'm not saying he doesn't like to mess with you, but I really think Shinra is exaggerating. He's like that.”

“Why would he?” Shizuo asks.

“Because he has a thing for Izaya and he's worried you do, too.”

Shizuo makes a face, and Kadota laughs loudly, his hands going up in surrender.

“I'm just saying, don't read into it, okay? Don't think about Izaya so much, man, it's exactly what he wants from you.”

Kadota leaves then, and Shizuo is left frowning on the sidewalk, wondering why the hell anyone would think he has a thing for the flea.

***

The next month drags on. Exams are around the corner, and graduation not long after that. They're all pretty busy, and Shizuo enjoys the peace of not being jumped around every corner of the city. Apparently even Izaya is too busy to scheme anything.

Shizuo is on his way home one day when something hits him in the back of his head. He growls and turns, catching the object before it can hit the ground. It's a candy bar?

“Hi there, Shizu-chan!” Izaya lilts. Shizuo growls at him.

“Why the fuck did you throw this at me?”

“Someone gave it to me and I don't care for that kind of chocolate. You like sweets, don't you?” Izaya asks.

“You poisoned it,” Shizuo says.

“It's in the wrapper, you idiot. Fine, don't eat it then. Don't say I never tried to be nice to you!” Izaya sighs dramatically and hunches over like he might fall in the floor. “To think, I spent my own money on that.”

“You just said someone gave it to you.”

“Did I?” Izaya grins. “Ah, well. Someone spent their money on it.”

“Where the hell have you been? Are you trying to flunk out or something?” Shizuo asks. Izaya looks good, which isn't unusual, but he also looks well-rested for a change.

“Been busy, you know? Besides, there's no risk of me flunking. What's wrong, Shizu-chan, have you missed me?” Izaya bats his eyelashes, and Shizuo throws the chocolate bar back at him.

“Fuck off. I've actually enjoyed you being gone.”

“How cruel! You really do take me for granted!”

Shizuo huffs and starts to tell Izaya to go to Hell, but suddenly Shinra is there, tackling Izaya from behind.

“Izaya-kun! You haven't even been answering your phone!” Shinra says, his arms around Izaya's waist. “Maybe I was worried about you!”

“As if you worry about anyone other than yourself and your girlfriend,” Izaya says.

Shinra looks from Izaya to Shizuo. “Are you guys fighting already?”

“Of course we are! Shizu-chan likes to fight with me, don't you, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks.

“I hate everything about you,” Shizuo replies, his eyes still on Shinra's arms around Izaya.

“Isn't he charming?” Izaya asks Shinra, and then he's allowing himself to be dragged away. They pass by Shizuo, who lets them go, and Shizuo is in a bad mood for his entire walk home.

Later on, when he's changing from his uniform, he blinks in surprise as he feels something in his pocket. It's that damned candy bar. Izaya must have slipped it into his pants pocket when he passed by. Shizuo looks it over, unwraps it, and takes a bite.

It's actually his favorite kind.

***

The next day, he sees Izaya again.  

Izaya is easy to find, is set up in an empty classroom, a book in his hands. Shizuo stomps towards him, yanks the book away, and throws it out the window.

“Shizu-chan, I know the thought of learning infuriates you, but does the thought of others learning really piss you off so much, too?”

“Shut the hell up. What are you doing in here?”

“Well, I was reading...”

“Cut the shit.” Shizuo leans onto the desk, eyeing Izaya suspiciously. “What are you plotting, huh? It's been too quiet lately, and I don't trust it.”

Izaya blinks and tilts his head to the side.

Cute.

The thought makes Shizuo angry, and he winds up smacking the desk so it tips over.

“When I bother you, you get angry, and when I don't bother you, you get angry,” Izaya says, pouting. “I think anger is just your default. Maybe you shouldn't blame other people for making you feel that way when it's clear you just like being angry.”

Shizuo cracks his knuckles. “You want me to throw you after your book? You could be reunited in no time, you shitty louse.” He swings at Izaya, but Izaya sinks into the chair to dodge it, does some swanky little maneuver that has him sprinting out of the classroom. Shizuo chases after him, a wide smile on his face.

The other students clear the way for them, a few of them cheering. Shizuo and Izaya are infamous for this kind of thing, and the fact it's been so long only makes it more fun. Shizuo can't deny he likes chasing after Izaya, especially because catching him seems impossible. Shizuo doesn't worry about hurting him, doesn't worry about holding back.

He wonders if Izaya finds it fun, too.

They wind up outside the school, Shizuo throwing rocks at Izaya, who keeps dodging them, cackling as he does so. It occurs to Shizuo that they're really only playing around at this point, and that's when a teacher marches outside to yell at them. Izaya waggles his eyebrows at Shizuo over the teacher's shoulder, and Shizuo bites his lip to keep from laughing.

That afternoon, Shizuo finds himself walking alongside Izaya, Shinra, and Kadota. Shinra and Kadota are talking to Izaya about tests and school, and Shinra's hand is curled into Izaya's sleeve.

Shizuo speaks before he can think about it.

“Do you have to always be so goddamn touchy?”

“Ah, this again?” Shinra asks. “Does it really bother you so much?”

“You're in love with Celty. You shouldn't act like you're in love with Izaya, too.”

A silence hangs between them, but Izaya is smirking. Of course he is.

“Love!” Shinra laughs. “As if it's love! I told you already that Izaya is just mine! There's no love to it.”

“You really aren't nice, Shinra,” Izaya says, though he doesn't seem affected at all. “You've got the personality of a goblin.”

“Now that's not nice,” Shinra replies, and he hugs Izaya's arm. “You like my personality!”

“It is kind of weird,” Kadota says, putting a calming hand on Shizuo's shoulder. “What does that even mean, that Izaya is yours?”

“It means he's mine! He doesn't like anyone else, and Celty won't accept my feelings just yet, so why shouldn't I have someone around that I like?” Shinra frowns like he doesn't get it, but then he goes back to nuzzling into Izaya, who tries to push him away to no avail. “Izaya-kun is pretty! And he's cuddly once you get past the sharp edges.”

“I will slit your throat and feed you to the plants.”

“You won't!”

“Whatever, man. It really is weird,” Kadota says with a shrug.

“Well, it doesn't concern either of you anyway,” Shinra says matter-of-factly. He tugs Izaya along, and Shizuo is so blinded by rage that he almost knocks over an unassuming businessman.

That night, Shizuo is pacing around the living room, angry for reasons he doesn't understand. Kasuka is watching with a bored expression.

“It's just fucking weird! How can you claim ownership of someone? Isn't it creepy? It's fucking creepy!” Shizuo grumbles and throws his hands up.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Kasuka asks. “If Izaya-san doesn't mind it, why do you?”

“Because!” Shizuo snaps. He doesn't elaborate, but Kasuka nods anyway.

“I see.”

“See what?”

“You like Izaya-san.”

If it was anyone else, Shizuo would snap their neck, but instead he freezes in place and stares at his little brother.

“What'd you say?” he asks.

“You like Izaya-san. It's kind of obvious, I guess. I just didn't think you liked him this much,” Kasuka says.

“I do not like that fucking—“

“Don't you?” Kasuka asks, and then he takes a sip of the tea he brought with him.

Shizuo opens his mouth, closes it again, and then roars in wordless rage. His mother rushes into the room and chastises him, so he goes into his room and screams into his pillow instead.

***

A few days pass before he sees Izaya again.

Izaya is in that same classroom, and when Shizuo enters, Izaya holds his book to him warily.

“This is a first edition, Shizu-chan, so if you throw this one, I'll be pretty—“

“You shouldn't let Shinra touch you like that. You know I hate it.”

“...Huh?”

“I told you before that I don't like it! He shouldn't claim ownership of you! Why do you let him? Doesn't it bother you?! He does it like you're not even a real person, like you're a doll!”

“Shizu-chan—“

“Does he do it just to piss me off?! Is that what it's about?! I'll kill him! I'll kill him and you!”

Izaya stands, and before Shizuo can say anything else, he feels soft pressure against his mouth. He blinks and pulls back to see Izaya is grinning, his face flushed.

“You're jealous,” Izaya says, and Shizuo growls, pulls Izaya into another kiss before he can think better of it.

“Don't like it,” Shizuo murmurs between their lips meeting. “Don't like it at all...”

“Why's that, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks, and he nips Shizuo's lip playfully.

“You fucking know why.”

He presses Izaya into the wall and devours his mouth, loves the way Izaya curls around him. It seems so simple now that they're kissing like this. Shizuo doesn't know how he didn't realize sooner that this is what he wanted.

“You don't want to share?” Izaya asks, and he laughs softly. “Selfish, aren't you?”

Shizuo kisses him again in answer, and Izaya shuts up instantly. That's a handy trick. Shizuo will definitely remember it.

When the day ends, and they're leaving the school together, Shizuo's eyes narrow as Shinra takes his usual spot beside Izaya and clings to his arm. With a growl, Shizuo lifts Izaya, pulling him into his own side.

“Touch him again and I'll break your arms,” he says to Shinra, who pouts very openly, wailing something about them not being allowed to like each other until Celty returns his feelings. Shizuo ignores him and focuses instead on the way Izaya feels beside him, exactly where he belongs.

[and-there-were-words]

A Spider Life: Webbed Thoughts (Chapter 02)

Setting up some HCs for the future, as well as giving some insight to our favorite scientist spider.

---

Taking place during “Revenge of the Spider Queen”, pretty much at the end of it.

With the Arachnoid Base gone and the town mostly in shambles due to the massive explosion, the Spider Demons were scattered all around town. Syntax takes it upon himself to find the other two, while wandering foreign, yet familiar streets. (Wordcount: around 1800)

---

Having almost all of his Spiderbots deactivated, was a huge setback for certain. It’ll take days to reconfigure them, and who even knew if they had enough of the special venom to get back to the count they had previously. It was near impossible to draw any numbers if the extent of the destruction was still unknown to him.

At least, there were a few things that survived. For one, the Spiderbot on his back. The cool metal resting comfortable against his spine, while the robot was feeding him a constant flow of information from the remaining units. It was a soft background buzz, a reminder that he was indeed part of this clan. The other ‘survivor’ being the head of their Arachnoid Base, certainly the most complex part of the mech. Given some time and work, he was certain he could rebuild it.

Syntax’s mouth drew into a hard line, reminiscing the events of the last few hours. It looked like the Queen… no, his Queen, had everything under control. The so-called-heroes caught, powerless against her might. The scientist had redrawn himself to continue working. Just because the battle was already won, didn’t meant there were no projects to finish up and to maintain. There were victory celebrations to be had afterall, and nobody else took it up to plan those. Syntax only had noticed the earth rumble above him when everything went down, and a moment later he had to witness his Queen on the ground, defeated. He wisely decided not to become a potential target of her fury, and excused himself to immediately go back to work.

As much as he hated to admit it, he really had to find the other two. For the sole reason to move the Arachnoid Base head back underground into the lair, of course. The remaining Spiderbots were not enough to stem this feat and he did not even have a fraction of the required strength to do it by himself. He would not allow his Queen to do any of this work, even if she was more than capable of moving the apparatus. No, if he could do something against it, he will not let the lady steep any lower, she was supposed to rest.

Goliath and Huntsman.

The scientist inhaled in trough the nose and let out a mildly annoyed sigh. The very moment these two had awaken, he was able to feel their gazes constantly lingering on him. Moreso from the hunter than the strong spider. Actually, it was a little surprising that the big one was… rather gentle in a way. Goliath barely ever spoke, and seemed content to just be part of whatever was going on. Doing what he was told to do, he certainly was the more reasonable compared to the gnarly spider that was Huntsman.

The older spider had made it apparently his goal to infuriate Syntax in any way possible. Always trying to shove himself in the spotlight when the scientist wanted to inform his Queen, always throwing little nitpicks and snarky remarks here and there – and by far the most annoying thing; always wrinkling his nose when he came too close to Syntax. ‘Close’ of course being several feet away, there was no way he’d allow that pelt wearing asshole anywhere near himself. More an unconcious act while having this trail of thought, Syntax lifted his wrist to his own nose, trying to catch any scent. He couldn’t detect anything odd, just metal, cold earth and the faintly sweet fragrance of his lady’s venom. Huntsman certainly was only doing this to irritate him. And frustratingly enough, it was slowly getting to him.

The scientist scoffed, looking up to check his surroundings. He was in the middle of a street, in some part of the city that didn’t get completely leveled during the fight. Some signs and advertisement screens still flickered with life, hanging in there with all might. The occasional spark and the scuttling of a critter were all the noises he could hear otherwise. Remarkable how fast the local population was able to evacuate from their homes once the Spider Demons had attacked. Something in the back of his brain clawed to the surface, images of a giant bull stomping and blasting entire blocks away. Having to leave ‘someplace important’ to be safe. A taste of bitterness of potentially losing all ‘progress’.

Progress of what? Syntax halted in his steps for a moment, trying to make sense of this rabid influx of images and emotions that… were his? Weren’t his? He could, for the life of his, not consciously remember any of what his mind was spouting out. It didn’t take long for the buzzing of the Spiderbot and the soothing warmth of the venom to calm his nerves again. What was he thinking about again? The scientist unchlenched his teeth, uncurling his fists. There was no apparent reason to be tense. With a shake of his head, Syntax continued down the streets.

He didn’t even question it that he could navigate throughout the city without a second guess. Somewhere in the far back of his mind, there was a subtle note that any corner he passed, and any road sign he read was completely new information. Yet he could feel it in his fingertips that he had seen these places before.

...most certainly the marvel of the Spiderbots, always here to bring him up to date! At a crossroad, his gaze subconsciously wandered down to his right, the word ‘Work’ coming to his mind. But before he could delve anymore on this random fact, a red flash signaled the scientist that he was close to his target. Completely ignoring the jumbled webbing of his mind, that tried to lure him somewhere, he turned to his left and followed the call of the machines.

It didn’t take long to find the hulking figure of Goliath. The strong spider was not within the crater that was left when crashing into the concrete, but instead was sitting a little to the side. Remarkable, that the guy barely had a scratch, Syntax wasn’t sure if he could shake off such an impact as easily. Goliath was looking somewhat exhausted, and for the first time since he knew him, mildly annoyed. It was clear that the henchman was already aware what must have had happen after he got blasted into the sky, the destroyed mech could not be overlooked easily. Though when he noticed the scientist approaching, his features softened, brows slightly raised in a silent question. For someone who could easily be one of the most intimidating creatures Syntax knew about (he didn’t knew many, DBK was certainly on this list though), he surely often made an expression like a lost puppy. In a way, it was endearing, giving this giant an aura he could relax in, at least somewhat.

Syntax looked around, searching for a second crater. Without needing to raise the question, Goliath shook his head. “He ain’t here, think he fell somewhere further to the east.”, a silent groan escaped the big guy as he got up, stretching his arms a little and dusting off some dirt. “Shall we?”

The scientist just nodded, stuffing hands in pockets and following the other’s lead. Finding himself mulling over threads of thoughts again as he watched the large back of the spider demon. In a way, it was… fascinating, how different they all were. Goliath, clearly strong and powerful, didn’t seem to make much use out of venom and webs. He was capable of both, no question, but either his mastery in these skills weren’t the greatest, or he simply didn’t want to use either for whatever reason. Syntax put a pin into that, maybe a question for another day.

Now Huntsman was almost the opposite. Even if he didn’t like to admit it, Syntax had to give tribute where it was due. The older spider’s ability of web manipulation was astounding, and maybe there was more to the hunter than one would give him credit for. He obviously was a traditional kind of guy, annoyingly so, but he still had picked up on Syntax’s gadgets and tools surprisingly quick. It did not take him more than a hour to figure out the spider trackers and the communication earbuds, he even had taken an animated liking over the tech-heavy binoculars that fed him instant information about anything he looked at. Of course, he immediately claimed that he would not need any of these, that his natural skills were enough. To no one’s surprise, Syntax noticed that said gadgets had mysteriously disappeared an hour later. He was smart enough to not bring this topic up.

Now the Queen… Syntax hummed contently as the Spiderbot buzzed in approvement. She was the Queen of Spiders for obvious reasons. While Goliath and Huntsman seemed to have specialized in one thing, the lady was quite powerful in all aspects. Her webs were strong and could be enchanted with all kinds of abilities. They were able to trap the Demon Bull King, and even the supposedly all-mighty Monkey King! That alone was a feat in itself. Syntax had noted with great pleasure that his lady was quite well versed in technology too, and up-to-date with society, in opposite to the other two. The giant spider bot that was basically just an extension of her true might? Her own creation! And don’t even get him started on her powerful venom! It had endless potential as both a power source and as an ingredient for mixtures and magics yet to be discovered.

And he, Syntax himself? For a moment, the scientist stopped in his track. He had his smarts and knowledge for sure. Basically a library of all things technology within his noggin. And his Queen already made it clear that he was an important part in all of her plans. Venom, webbing, physical strength on the other hand… The claws on his back twitched slightly agitated, a sudden spike of an incoming migrain stopping all tracks of thoughts. When Syntax looked forwards again, he could see that Goliath was glancing at him with mild worry, patiently waiting to continue their way to find the gnarly spider. The scientist shook his head, reminding himself that he was part of this clan, there was no place in doubting his Queen.

In comfortable silence, the two walked down the empty streets, neither feeling any need of smalltalk. As ironic and bitter as it was, Syntax found himself in a moment of peace, just a moment he could relax his shoulders and sort the rest of his thoughts calmly. Things certainly were going to get tense again once they picked up Huntsman, that fact was clear. The Spider Demons had a lot of tasks ahead of them as well, going off by the words of the little Miss Mystery. Not something he was particularly looking forward for, but serving his Queen was his sole purpose. And nothing will distract him from that.

[jasmine-jules]

Escaping to Chaos

Sylvie & Loki & Mobius

1500+ words

Warnings: Fairly general. Little depiction of violence, mild language

A/N: Hey all! I can’t believe I wrote this piece only two days after getting the prompt. I mean I can, but it all has to do with the fact that I saw this theory on TikTok the other day about Sylvie’s relationship with the TVA and why Mobius is so invested in Loki variants. And then because the episode airs tomorrow, I didn’t want my cute and sweet theory destroyed by whatever painful thing we get. So yeah :)

Here’s my submission for the ever so lovely, @startrekkingaroundasgard 6k writing challenge: A picture is worth a thousand words. My picture prompt was the darkened, rainy street view in the writing challenge post, I couldn’t get it to paste in well Here

Hope you enjoy! Leave me a comment or a heart if you do, and feel free to check out my Masterlist if you want to see others like it!

~~~~~~~~~

Sylvie feels the time winds bluster past her as she steps through the door, and the air around her falls silent. The chaos of Lamentis 1 fades as the door slams shut, leaving her in quiet and safety. For now.

How? She’s actually not hundred percent sure yet, all she knows is that she saw a door; she saw a chance to live. And she couldn’t not take it. 

She’s spent this long surviving, this long fighting for the freedom of herself and everyone else around her—if anything, wishing for life to be the exact sort of chaos she just ran from. The TVA stole her from her home, they destroyed her family and everything she knew before she even got a chance to know it. She will not give up that easily.

“So, where do you think we ended up this time?” Loki’s lilting voice breaks through the peaceful din of the rainy, empty street they stand on. 

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath as she hears the one voice she hasn’t been able to shake yet.

“You think I would know? I don’t even know who was responsible for the stupid time door.” She whirls around, exasperated. Why is he still here, the only reason they stuck together was to get away from that doomed moon, and it wasn’t long before she couldn’t hold back from voicing those same thoughts,

“Why are you still following me around like a homesick puppy? I was only resisting my urge to kill you to get off that planet, and guess what? My reason is-” she snaps her fingers, “gone. So now you should be too.” After all, he’s just another person for the TVA to steal away from her, so it’s better that he leaves before he turns into anything more than a nuisance. 

“You need me.” Loki jabs towards her chest, “You wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for me, and I you. So,” he crosses his arms indignantly, “fortunately for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

She resists the urge to smack him across that knowing grin he flashes her, he’s won and he knows it, “Fine. But we need to move, we still don’t know who opened that door and I’m not eager to meet them.”

“Lead the way, my Lady.” He gestures his arms towards the open sidewalk in front of him. 

Sylvie rolls her eyes and walks in the opposite direction of his arm, crashing her shoulder intentionally into his as she passes by. 

As they walk, she fights to push away the ease the comes with being in Loki’s presence. The sense of family. Of belonging. Of having someone by your side that knows you, understands what makes you tick and why you fight. She has no idea when it did turn from a very real urge to kill him, to this. 

She knows that Loki feels it too, but his fondness based more on a memory of a brother that she herself never had a chance to know. His pull to be near any Asgardian kinship stronger than the instinctual distrust of a stranger. She feels it every time he drops a hushed truth about himself, and every time he pushes her out of the way of a meteor. He can’t help but think of family either.

Sylvie hasn’t felt this in years. Decades even... she stops in her tracks.

“Sylvie?” 

But she barely hears Loki’s question through the hurricane of thoughts stampeding through her mind, whizzing past her faster than time. She hardly registers his presence even as he hesitantly steps towards her like trying not to spook an animal.

“I know who opened the time door for us,” She manages to get the words past her choked throat, “And I think you do too.”

She can see the dots piecing together behind Loki’s eyes—his face falling as the realization dawns on him.

“Do we run?” He asks, but she knows it’s a fruitless, rhetorical question. They both know the answer. 

“Ahhh, you two finally figured it out?”

Sylvie would recognize that soft, drawled out voice anywhere, even considering the centuries that’s passed since she last heard it in any meaningful conversation. She doesn’t turn to look at him just yet, but instead pleads silently to Loki’s eyes, begging him to take the lead. She can’t bear to talk to Mobius, not this time at least. 

It takes hardly any time at all for Loki to catch on, and she almost doesn’t comprehend the tiny, imperceptible nod he aims her way, the flood of white noise drowning out any constructive thought. All she can manage to do is to move in harmony with Loki as he makes his way towards Mobius. 

Instead of following any charming word or thrown slight that falls from Loki’s mouth, she’s overtaken with memories of when she first stepped into the dingy, perpetual grayness of the TVA.

Fingers wrapped too tightly around her little arm. Her long black hair stinging her scalp as the Agent pulls her along too roughly down the endless wall of windows, showing her the expansive city of lights, and space too large for her small mind to even grasp at. 

She hears the high pitched drone of Miss Minutes explaining to the younger version of herself, barely just figuring out her identity and the path she wants to take in her life, the crime that she had committed. That she broke the sacred timeline and varied away from her pre-destined road, and must pay the price.

She doesn't hear a word spoken in that vast courtroom. The gavel rings loudly on the dark wood of the judges bench as her sentence is decided, and she’s herded out of the court room. But this time, the arm that leads her doesn’t pinch too tight, doesn’t pull at her hair. This time the hand rests gently on her shoulder, and it’s not a cold voice, one hardened like steel in war-like conditions, but it’s almost goofy. His vowels twang and his words always have a soft uptick to them, like he’s always questioning what he’s saying.

They get to a different chamber, this time with a round table and a couple of chairs, so they can talk face to face instead of one looming over the other. 

He introduces himself at Agent Mobius, and he’s in charge of the variants that aren’t meant to be reset yet, but rather help them carry out tasks that the other agents haven’t succeeded at yet. Although, that’s not what she is here for either, 

“No, my sweet Loki, you’re here because you broke the timeline, but it’s still not your time. You deserve a chance to live.”

So she grows up beside Mobius. He raises her like Odin never did, he’s kind and he teaches her to fight, he tells her stories of the worlds that he’s seen, promising her more than she can even dream of. At night, Loki steals away precious moments under her covers or in the quiet of her closet to practice magic. The kind that the fading memory of her mother always talked about, and slowly she becomes not a Loki variant, but Sylvie, the Enchantress. 

Soon her need to learn expands wider than the scope of the TVA, she gets too curious, starts asking the wrong questions.

The TVA is too ordered, everything works the ways it’s supposed to and never strays from what the Timekeepers declare. It’s too perfect to be good, the universe tends towards disorder. And they’re doing everything in their power to prevent that.

She begs Mobius to tell her the truth. He never does, his stoic face never breaking no matter how many times she asks in every different way she can think of.

He never breaks, and eventually, decades after coming to the timeless place, she’s dragged away to yet another room, this time to be quieted down for good. So Sylvie fights, she kills anyone that gets in her path, she does anything necessary in order to escape.

She slits the last throat of the agent in her way and pockets her dagger. Her still bloody fingers manipulate the time clock, trying to program it the way she’s practiced a thousand times before. As she steps through the door, she feels eyes burning into her now blonde, short hair. She can’t help but look back and hold Mobius’ eyes.

“I have to do this.” Sylvie whispers, her own eyes burning as the time winds rush her into the first of the never ending line of apocalypses. 

She has to bring chaos back to the world, with or without Mobius. 

But now he’s here, and somehow he’s caught her off guard, practically making every evasive maneuver she’s done up to now completely useless. Loki still dances through his words, him and Mobius bantering like they’re an old married couple. And honestly, she now understands the drunken ramblings of Loki on the train. 

Love is a dagger. It cuts and it slips through your fingers before you can even realize.  And as the rain starts to fall lightly on her face, she captures both men’s attention,

“Just shut up, please.” Loki starts to protest, but she cuts him off, “You can squabble with your prince later. For now, Mobius? If you truly are here to help, then help. Because we need to keep moving.”

[particularemu]

King of Hearts | A Hwang Hyunjin Scenario

Request: “I love your works! And I wanted to ask you and my top two other writers (and more if you can rally that many) @and  @Maaaaaatryoshka0325 to maybe make a scenario with a member being in a gang and they protect the reader and get hurt? Lots of aftercare! But here’s the catch: you all write it separately, I’m curious to see how people handle the scenario differently! Maybe even do other members each?! Whatever you guys can decide if you’re up for it! Fighting! 😃” 

Warnings: Mentions violence, guns, someone getting shot, gambling.

Word Count: 5813 

Other Members: Bang Chan: @thecarat-top​ 

Lee Minho: @maaaaaatryoshka0325​ 

Seo Changbin: @backhugsforhyunjin​ 

Lee Felix: @honeyfelix​ 

Kim Seungmin: @backhugsforhyunjin​ 

Yang Jeongin: @lixiescheesestick​ 

Author’s Note: I don’t know how to play poker, but I tried to learn for this fic. Idk if I got the details wrong, but if I did whoops I apologize. 

Read my bby @jisungsjheekies‘s fic: Eerie Night

“Hey, you ready?” Hyunjin slowly opened the door, a bright smile taking over his features when he saw you in your dress. “Wow… You look amazing.” He closed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your waist as you glanced at yourself in the body-length mirror. 

It felt a bit awkward being in such a fancy gown, but you enjoyed getting all dressed up for tonight. 

Anyone off the streets would think you were going to a ball or a fancy business party. 

No… You weren’t going anywhere like that. You and Hyunjin were headed to The Black Spade — one of the biggest, baddest casinos in the upper west side of the city. The casino was run by the Young Bastards — an oddly successful group of 20-year-old somethings who’ve crossed the line with Stray Kids. 

Originally Hyunjin was the only one who was supposed to go, but an incident at The Black Spade last month put himself at risk.

See... a man who plays the game of Poker has a 40% chance of winning. A man who plays Poker and wins 100% of the time? That’ll alert every gang member watching the floor. Unfortunately, this happened to your boyfriend, so heading back to rob the owner of The Black Spade, was nearly impossible, unless he could provide a distraction. 

So here you were, a distraction indeed, dressed in a tight, sparkly dress, ready to help your boyfriend win several poker games. 

Hwang Hyunjin was quite the anomaly. The man was beautiful and charismatic, but he was also sensitive. People are quick to trust him. Little would they know that Hyunjin was the biggest high-stakes gambler the Stray Kids Gang had to offer. 

The man has won millions of dollars against casinos run by rival gangs. Not only does he play the game — he wins every single time. Hyunjin doesn’t win out of talent — no he’s gotten really good at sleight of hand throughout the years, so he has several tricks up his sleeve. 

Usually, Hyunjin can get away with playing a game and leaving the casino, but last week someone taunted him into staying for three games. To keep from losing any money, Hyunjin had to win all three. He left just before a bunch of gang members came to take him to the leader of the Young Bastards. 

The leader of Stray Kids, Bang Chan, wanted to get them back. The best and least violent way to destroy a gang? Rob them blind. The easiest way to do that would be sending Hyunjin to The Black Spade once more, but Chan couldn’t risk losing one of his best members. Besides… Hyunjin was practically family. 

Chan originally asked if you’d be interested in learning to cheat at Poker, so you could go in Hyunjin’s place, but your boyfriend wouldn’t allow you to go alone. So the three of you compromised. You’d go with Hyunjin and disguise his sleight of hand so the gang members wouldn’t be tipped off. 

It took weeks of learning crazy tricks for you to effectively cheat at a game of Poker. It took another week to get used to doing sleight of hand with Hyunjin handing you the cards down his sleeve. Eventually, the two of you were like clockwork. He’d slip a card down his sleeve and go hold your hand. You’d take the card as it slid into your hand, and tuck it in your garter. One tap meant swap the card. Two taps meant you needed to hand the hidden card back to Hyunjin. Codeword: Dinner. If shit went south, and people started to notice you cheating, you guys planned to bail with the simple phrase, “Babe, I’m getting hungry. We should go to dinner.” 

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin gently kissed your cheek. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to.” Your hand rested on his cheek as you guided his head to rest on yours. “I’m glad you’re going with me.” 

“There’s no way I’d let you go there by yourself.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead. “Do you have your knife?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your dress, showing off the holster strapped to your upper thigh, a knife securely strapped in. 

“Don’t be afraid to use that if someone gets close to you.” Hyunjin’s arm snaked around your waist. “Don’t question it, just point and stab.” 

You giggled at Hyunjin’s choice of words. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

Hyunjin led you outside to a fancy-looking Limousine.  He opened the door and gestured inside, allowing you to slide in. Your eyes widened at the amazing interior. The Limo was fully equipped with neon lights, velvet seats, bottles of champagne, crystal glasses, and even a television. 

“Okay, this is cool.” You beamed as Hyunjin slid next to you. 

“Well, I figured since I’m asking my girlfriend to risk her life for me, we’d travel in style.” He giggled when you lightly smacked his shoulder. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You slid closer to him and leaned your head against his chest, smiling when he slung his arm over your shoulders. “If we were here under different circumstances I’d say we should try fucking in here.” 

“Please don’t.” You could hear Felix’s voice from behind the partition. 

Lee Felix was the best getaway driver in the city. It was comforting to know you had someone so talented behind the wheel, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s possible to lose a tail in a limo.

“I said under different circumstances Lix.” You chuckled. “If you’re going to eavesdrop, you might as well listen.” 

“I couldn’t risk it.” Felix laughed. “We all know you guys go at it like rabbits.” 

Your face flushed as you sunk back in Hyunjin’s side, ego officially defeated at Felix’s words. “Who heard?”

“You guys are about as subtle as an air horn.” Felix giggled. “Like seriously? We all know you’re going to fuck when you ask Hyunjin to come open a jar of pickles.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed slightly as he laughed with Felix, fully enjoying how you pressed your face into his neck in embarrassment. “Come on Lix, that’s enough. You’re embarrassing her.”

“Well, we’re here, so you don’t have to deal with my shit anymore.” Felix parked the limo in front of the casino. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, fear suddenly taking over as you stepped out into the night, flashing lights reminding you of the task at hand. Your hands darted to Hyunjin’s arm, squeezing tightly when he stepped out of the limo. 

“Hey,” Hyunjin whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he tried to comfort you. “I won’t think any less of you if you call this off now.” 

You turned to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “How dangerous is this?”

Hyunjin sighed and pulled you flush against his body. “Very.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “There’s a small chance that I could get shot as soon as we walk in.” 

Your blood ran cold, hands tightening around him as panic bubbled in your chest. “Let’s go in before I can’t.” 

“Baby we don’t have to.” His hand rubbed your back, hoping to soothe you. 

“No, let’s go.” You let go of Hyunjin and walked straight into the casino, pausing when you reached the entryway. 

The Black Spade was enormous. The entire casino was filled with various slot machines, card tables, and many other games. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, each shard of glass glistening under the light. You weren’t expecting this to be such a big place. 

Hyunjin rushed to your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him. “Don’t you dare do that again.” He sighed in relief. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

Sure enough, as soon as a man saw Hyunjin, he had his hand on his earpiece, talking to, who you assumed was, the leader of the Young Bastards. Not long after the man stopped talking, another man popped out. 

“If it isn’t the infamous Hwang Hyunjin.” He held his hand out to Hyunjin, smiling when your boyfriend shook his hand. “I heard about your three big wins last month, and I’m curious to see if it’ll happen again.” 

There was something about the man that made you nervous. He appeared nice, but you had a bad feeling that he was dangerous. 

“I doubt it.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I still can’t believe that happened! I got lucky.” 

“Luck you say?” The man smirked, an evil twinge in his eye. “I believe you mean skill. I must watch you play a poker game, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin shook his head, pulling you closer to his body. “I actually came here with my girl to play the slot machines. I haven’t played Poker since last month. I’m afraid I’ll be rusty.”

The man shook his head. “That’s too bad. You must play a game with me before you leave. If you can’t find me on the floor, tell any of the workers you’re looking for Damien.”  

So Damien was his name. Damien gave you a curt nod and shook Hyunjin’s hand once more before departing. Once he was a safe distance away you squeezed Hyunjin’s hand. “I need to use the restroom. Can we please find one?”

Hyunjin nodded, a look of concern replacing his features as he led you to the ladies room. You ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. God, you needed to replace that look of pure panic or you were going to tip off the whole club. You smacked your cheek a couple times to get your shit together, before heading back out to your boyfriend. 

Hyunjin was leaning against the wall when you stepped out. “Did you do that thing you do when you’re scared shitless? You know… where you smack your face?”

Your eyes widened as you slipped your hand in his. “How the fuck did you know?” 

“I’ve always known. Your cheeks are super red dingus.” He giggled when you shoved his side. 

You and Hyunjin headed to the banker. “I need 16 million in chips please.” He paused. “Please leave out $100 in coins.” 

“Of course sir.” The banker handed Hyunjin a bag full of chips, then slid a small stack of quarters across the counter. 

“Thank you, sir.” Hyunjin nodded at the man, grabbing the chips and leading you over to the slot machines. 

“Aren’t we supposed to play poker?” You asked. 

“Yeah, but I told him I’d be playing the slot machines with you.” He kissed you on the cheek and gestured for you to sit down. “Here.” Hyunjin handed you a handful of coins. “Why don’t you play a few rounds.”   

“How do you play?” You frowned, staring at the money in your hands. 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh. You were so innocent. “Baby, you just place the coin in the slot machine and pull the lever.” 

Hyunjin sat down in a chair next to you and threw a coin in the machine. He pulled the lever, only to see a bell, a seven, and cherries — a losing combination. 

“Why don’t you try?” He smiled at you as you slipped a coin into the machine and pulled the lever. 

Damn. You had two sevens and a bell. 

“Who was that?” You asked about the strange man from earlier. 

“Damien? He’s the leader of the Young Bastards.” Hyunjin chuckled. “He didn’t pick a very good name for his gang.” 

“Would he hurt us?” Your voice got small as you pulled the slot machine again. 

Hyunjin paused to look at you. “I won’t let him hurt us.” 

“Hyunjin,” You paused, frustration and fear getting the better of you. “You can’t promise shit like that.”

“Hey.” Hyunjin shoved your shoulder and giggled to try and lift your spirits. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but-” 

“Then trust me when I say that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Hyunjin’s eyes bore into yours, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Now pull the lever and win us some big money.” He chuckled. 

You giggled and did what Hyunjin said, sighing when you got another losing combination. 

You and Hyunjin played the slot machines, chatting about this and that for a while before you started to see a crowd form at the Poker tables. You heard someone cry out in anguish and several people in the crowd cheer. 

“Hyunjin what’s going on?” You asked, suddenly feeling nervous. 

“People gather around when there’s a high-stakes Poker game going on.” He pursed his lips. “It might be time for us to make an entrance.”

You gulped, feeling a lump in your throat as you grabbed Hyunjin’s hand. 

“Do you think you can do this?” He pulled you closer. “If you look terrified, they’re going to know something’s up. So if you can’t do this—” 

“I can do it.” You cut him off. “Let’s go.” 

You took a deep breath as Hyunjin lead you to the poker table. 

“If it isn’t Hwang Hyunjin!” Damien greeted the two of you once more. “This poor bastard just lost 10 million dollars and his wife!” Damien pointed to a middle-aged man who was sobbing on the floor. “What do you say, Hwang? Do you want to try your hand at beating me?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips. 

This was clearly going to be a game of wits. It was obvious Damien was cheating. Hyunjin could tell by the cards sprawled on the table. One deck of cards doesn’t have two Queen of Spades. He had to be careful. It wasn’t just his life on the line, but yours as well. 

“You’re on.” He smirked, handing the chips to the dealer to check for authenticity. “Come here baby.” 

Oh my god it was happening! 

You took your place beside Hyunjin, the two of you sharing a look before the game started. Hyunjin turned his head, making it look like he was kissing your forehead, but he whispered, “Say the word and we’re gone.” 

Right the code word. 

“Everyone ready?” Once the dealer got the okay from everyone, he shuffled the cards and dealt out two cards to everyone at the table. Hyunjin was positioned in the big blind position, which means he had to put down double of what Damien decided to bet. 

“How much?” The dealer asked. 

“6 million,” Damien smirked as half the table picked up and left, opting to keep their chips in their pockets. 

You couldn’t help but gasp. You weren’t used to throwing that kind of money down on anything. To see Hyunjin put forth 12 million dollars in chips made your stomach turn. 

The rest of the table put forth their bets, leaving nearly 50 million dollars in the middle of the table. Your face paled at the massive pile of chips. 

If Hyunjin lost, not only would he lose a ton of money for Stray Kids, but there was a chance you’d lose your life. 

You tilted your head, looking to see what cards Hyunjin was holding in his hands. He’s got a 9 of spades and a 5 of clovers. 

Fuck… He didn’t have what he needed for a royal flush, but he could opt for a high full house. It depends on what cards appear in the flop rounds. The game was left to the cards at this point. 

The dealer revealed two more cards face-up to start the Flop betting round. There was a Queen of Clovers, a 9 of Hearts, and a Jack of Diamonds. 

“Bet.” Hyunjin called out confidently, pushing forward more chips. 

You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you trusted him. After all, Hyunjin has been playing poker for a long ass time. 

The dealer turned over the fourth card, starting the post turn betting round. A man paled and rested his head on the table. Either he’s bluffing or he’s truly holding a losing hand. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor bastard. 

“Check,” Hyunjin called, pursing his lips, despite the fact that he had a good hand.

“Bet.” Damien smirked at his hand, pushing more chips forward. 

“Fold.” The other man folded, opting to keep what little chips he had left. 

“Raise.” Hyunjin shoved another large stack of chips into the pile. 

What the fuck was happening?

Was he bluffing? 

Damien matched Hyunjin’s bet, sliding a large stack of chips into the center. The table was surrounded by people, watching to see what would happen in this high-stakes Poker game. You couldn’t help but wonder yourself. If Damien wins, does that mean you and Hyunjin can just leave? Were you expected to stay there until he won back the money?

Fuck what was going to happen?

The dealer turned over the 5th and final card. 

This was the final betting round. 

Hyunjin dipped his hand in yours, tapping his index finger on your palm twice. You quickly turned to kiss his cheek, sliding your hand up your dress to grab the card. 

“I know you can do it, baby.” 

“All in.” Hyunjin tucked one of the cards in his sleeve as he reached up to ruffle your hair. 

You grabbed his hand off your head, handing off the 9 of clovers in his hand. You lowered your hand, effectively slipping the 5 of clovers into your garter. It was a quick exchange and you were positive no one saw what happened. 

You exhaled, relief flooding your body until you saw Damien smirk from across the table. 

Did he see?

“Call.” Damien pushed forward some chips. 

Damien and Hyunjin pushed forward their cards, showing their hands. You paled as Damien flipped over a full house. Two queens and three aces. Hyunjin lost. 

He lost everything. 

Your heart dropped in your stomach as you reached for Hyunjin’s sleeve. Maybe you two could call it now? If you called it now, maybe you guys could leave with your lives. 

You looked at Hyunjin’s face to see him smirking at Damien. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve Damien.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Damien shrugged. 

Hyunjin merely laughed — a dark laughter that you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. He’s usually such a high-pitched giggly man. You had to admit, this side of Hyunjin frightened you a little. 

“You play poker with one set of cards correct?” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“That’s the only way to play.” Damien chuckled nervously. He blew his own cover. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m asking because I want to know why he has a Queen of Spades?” Hyunjin pointed to a man sitting across the table — his cards flipped up to show another Queen of Spades to match Damiens. 

“He must be cheating.” Damien glared at the man. “Security, take him away.” 

You gasped as a few armed men lurched forward, grabbing the man’s arms. Your fingers tightened around Hyunjin’s sleeve, alerting Hyunjin. He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed, hoping to calm you down. 

“Don’t do that.” Hyunjin chuckled as the guards paused. “He’s right next to the dealer. The dealer would have noticed if he was cheating.” 

Damien threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “I own this joint. Do you really think they’re going to do anything about me cheating?”

“Babe,” you started. It was time to go. You couldn’t stand being there any longer. “I’m getting hungry. Should we go to dinner?”

“No.” 

Your blood ran cold. That was your code. That was the word. You wanted to go and Hyunjin wouldn't let you. 

“We’re playing again, and this time I’m betting with 15 million.” Hyunjin smirked as the dealer handed him 15 million in chips. “If I lose, you get all of my money.” 

“If I lose?” Damien smirked. 

“You give me back what I lost during the last round, and you let us go.” Hyunjin thrust his hand forward. “Sound good?”

“You have a deal.” Damien shook Hyunjin’s hand and sat back at the table. 

The game was purely between Hyunjin and Damien. Everyone else had left. 

The dealer shuffled the cards and handed out two cards each. Hyunjin had two queens. 

So far it was looking good. You had a King stashed in your garter. All he needed was an Ace, a Jack, and a 10. 

Hyunjin and Damien put in their bets, throwing all their chips in the center. 

Wait… what? He didn’t even know what cards were there? Why is he going all-in?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. You could feel it. Hyunjin was being ballsy and Damien was setting up a trap.  

The dealer flipped over two cards, revealing a 10 of Spades and a Jack of hearts. 

You could do it, you could win this. Hyunjin instantly put his hand down, tapping on your palm twice. You giggled and leaned your head against his shoulder, taking the card he stuffed down his sleeve and putting it in your garter. Then you grabbed the King of Spades and…

Oh no…

The card slipped from your hands. 

Hyunjin remained still. “Got a good hand there Damien?” 

He was trying to keep him distracted. 

You thought quick, snapping off one of your acrylic nails and throwing it to the ground. 

“Oh my god, my nail just fell off.” You sighed and bent down grabbing the card and hiding it under your shoe. “I paid big money to get these done. I can’t believe it just…” You lifted your head to see a revolver pointed at your head. 

Before you knew it, Hyunjin had swiped all the chips to the ground, sending various onlookers to the floor to pick up the millions of dollars in chips. The gunman was knocked over in the chaos, giving you an opportunity to crawl under the table to hide from the mess. 

Damien just watched the chaos with a huge smile. “Leaving so soon Hwang?” 

Hyunjin cursed and grabbed your arm harshly, the bruising grip causing you to cry out in pain. You’ve never seen him so violent before. 

You could hear Damien yell, “Tell Stray Kids to watch their backs.” as Hyunjin pulled you out of the Casino. 

Hyunjin burst through the doors and pulled you along the sidewalk. 

You frantically pushed at Hyunjin’s hand. “Hyunjin let go, you’re hurting me.” 

“Shut up.” Hyunjin turned to glare at you before pulling you along the sidewalk again. 

“Should we call Lix?”

“There’s no time,” Hyunjin growled. 

He was beyond pissed. 

Once you two got far enough away from the Casino, Hyunjin released his grip on your arm. He trudged along the sidewalk, refusing to say a word, while you trailed behind him. You looked at your feet as you walked, guilt taking over your emotions. 

You weren’t stupid. You realized how big of a mess you made. Now Stray Kids would be down 27 million dollars and Hyunjin’s cover was blown. 

“I fucked up.” Your small voice stopped Hyunjin in his tracks. 

He tried — oh he tried so hard to keep his temper in check, but your huge fuck up would reflect poorly on him. “You think?” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder, frowning at you. 

“Hyunjin I’m sorry I choked.” 

“No, you didn’t just choke.” Hyunjin scoffed. “You could have killed both of us. All you had to do was hand me the card. We’ve practiced that hundreds of times. How could you fuck that up?”

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes glassed over as you took the verbal lashing Hyunjin gave you. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did in there.” He turned around and started to walk again. 

“Well whatever happened to ‘say the word baby and we’ll leave?’” You mocked. “This isn’t all my fault. I said the code word. You ignored me asshole.” 

“It’s not your fault?” Hyunjin scoffed. “This is one-hundred-percent your fault. We could have won!” His voice raised with each word. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You sobbed. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I lost all that money.” 

“You aren’t understanding me,” Hyunjin yelled. “You could have died.” He grabbed your shoulders and shook you with each word. “You. Could. Have. Died.” 

“I know.” You collapsed to the ground and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You were so scared in that moment. Hyunjin wasn’t acting like himself. You messed up everything for Stray Kids. You had a gun to your head 10 minutes ago. 

Tears fell down your cheeks. “I never asked for any of this.” 

“Oh hush.” Hyunjin turned away from you. “You asked for this when you accepted this mission. You knew what this was, and yet you agreed.” 

“Well maybe I don’t want this life anymore!” You blurted out. Were these your true feelings? “If that means I have to leave you then so be it.” You had to get out of there. You stood up and turned around, leaving Hyunjin to sort out his emotions.

A heavy dose of reality hit Hyunjin when you started to walk away. “Wait, you don’t mean that do you?” 

You had to take a minute. Of course, you loved him. You loved him so much, but this life was already taking its toll on the two of you. “I don’t know.” You answered. 

Hyunjin paled. “Baby I—” 

A gunshot forced you to turn around. You watched a bullet fly through the air, lodging into Hyunjin’s shoulder, knocking him back. His head hit a stone pillar behind him, knocking him unconscious. You screamed and ducked behind a trash can, eyes focused on the amount of blood pouring out of your boyfriend’s head and shoulder. 

You heard a loud laugh as a GMC drove off, turning the corner quickly so no one could identify the license plate. 

Despite being terrified and weak, you had to get him out of there. Leaving him in the street could get him killed. You ran over to Hyunjin and slipped your arms underneath his armpits. You dragged the poor boy into an alleyway, sobbing as you pulled out your phone and dialed Chan’s number. 

Chan answered on the first ring. “Y/N? What happened?” 

“Hyunjin was shot.” You sobbed into the speaker, pressing onto Hyunjin’s shoulder wound with your unoccupied hand. 

You could hear Chan gasp on the other end. “Where are you?” 

“On the corner of 75th. We’re in an alley behind a Chinese restaurant.” You sniffled. 

“I’ll be there in 5. Press on the wound and make sure he stays awake.” Chan hung up before you could say anything else. 

Well, you’ve already fucked up. Hyunjin was out cold. 

Seeing your boyfriend so… dead looking made you cry even harder. What are you going to do? You loved the boy, despite his flaws and his questionable life decisions. He was sweet and caring. He didn’t deserve to die this way.

A truck screeched as it turned the corner. Felix hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the bed of the truck. 

“I brought Seungmin. Let’s hurry up and get him in the truck.” Lix gasped when he saw Hyunjin’s freakishly pale skin. “He doesn’t look good.” 

Chan hopped out of the passenger's seat, helping Felix and Seungmin lift Hyunjin in the bed of the truck. You tried to hop in the back, hoping to help Hyunjin however you can. 

Felix put his hand on your shoulder. “You should sit up front with Chan. Seungmin and I will make sure he comes back to you.” He smiled sadly. 

You quickly hopped into the passenger seat, looking forward to heading back to headquarters. 

“What happened in there?” Chan asked as he started to drive home. 

“I fucked up.” You sighed. “I lost you guys 27 million dollars.” 

Chan’s eyes widened. “Wow.” 

You sniffled and started to cry once again. “I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. 

“Hey don’t worry about it.” Chan squeezed your shoulder. “I’m just happy to see the two of you alive.” Chan cringed. “Well, mostly alive.” 

You couldn’t help but tear up as you remembered the argument. “Hyunjin hates me.” 

“Hyunjin doesn’t hate you.” Chan chuckled a bit. “That man loves you more than he loves his dog. That says a lot.” 

“You didn’t hear the way he spoke to me.” You turned in your seat, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself. 

Chan sighed. “Hyunjin gets emotional sometimes. He doesn’t mean what he says when he’s fired up.” Chan paused a moment, thinking of what to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Hyunjin is the one who’s hurt.” 

“No.” Chan cut you off before you could say anything else. “I’m not talking about physically.” He rested his hand on your shoulder. “We’re used to seeing guns and having our lives threatened. You’re just a normal girl.” Chan sighed. “You shouldn’t have to watch your boyfriend get shot.”  

“I don’t want to be a normal girl anymore.” You mumbled. “I want to do what I can to protect him.” 

“Hyunjin can protect himself.” Chan replied. “Don’t get any ideas about becoming his savior. That mentality is what gets people killed.” Chan took a deep breath. “But if you want me to show you how to use a gun, and train you to come with us on missions, I can make it happen. You’re the one who’s going to have to tell Hyunjin that it’s what you want, otherwise I’ll have to deal with his wrath.” Chan shivered.

“Hyunjin has wrath?” You chuckled. 

“Do you have eyes?” Chan laughed. “Hyunjin only has wrath when it comes to you.” He smiled. “That boy loves you.” 

You sighed. “I feel like I fucked our relationship up.” 

“Y/N he has a ring.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“He has a ring,” Chan repeated himself. “If he proposes, please act surprised.” 

You felt even worse now. Your boyfriend was going to propose and here you were telling him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore. 

“We’re here.” Chan pulled into the garage and put the truck in park. You could see Felix and Seungmin hop out of the truck and quickly take Hyunjin inside. 

“Hey.” Chan stopped you before you could dart out.

“Hmm?” 

“You need to think about this. Marrying him is agreeing to an unstable life. Can you live with that?” Chan questioned. 

You nodded. 

Chan pursed his lips. “Just think about it okay?” 

“I will.” You smiled and darted inside, hoping to hear good news. 

----------

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed as he came to, wondering what happened. Where was he?

He could feel a light pressure on his shoulder. Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room, hoping to figure out what happened. 

He was in the infirmary in the house… 

Suddenly pieces of the night came back to him. 

A gun, someone pointed a gun at your head. Where were you? You weren’t shot, right? 

Hyunjin shot up in bed, alerting Seungmin and the boys. “Y/N.” He called for you. 

Seungmin popped into the room. “Hey, buddy. It’s nice to see you awake.” Seungmin grabbed one of Hyunjin’s hands, squeezing lightly. 

“Where is she? Tell me where is she?” Hyunjin teared up. You can’t be dead. You can’t be… Tears rolled down his cheeks as he repeatedly called your name, hoping you were okay. Why wasn’t anyone telling him if you were okay?

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head in the room, instantly calming the poor boy. He collapsed back in the bed, sobbing as he regained bits of his memory. You rushed over to his side, slipping into the bed and holding him close. “I’m here.” You kissed his forehead and ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. “I’m okay.” 

“I thought you were dead.” Hyunjin sniffled. “There was a gun.” 

“You saved me.” You couldn’t help but tear up. “I thought I was never going to see you again.” 

Hyunjin chuckled and nuzzled into your embrace. “I don’t die that easy.” 

----------

Taking care of Hyunjin while he was healing was no easy task. He was such a finicky boy, always asking for you to come cuddle him for various reasons. 

“But baby I’m cold.” 

“But baby, I want to hold you, it makes my arm feel better.” 

“I might have a nightmare without you.” 

Even though he was a pain in the ass, you loved taking care of him. It took him a month to get back to full health, and you couldn’t help but worry for him when his next mission popped up. 

You were wandering around the house wondering where he ran off to. Hyunjin had been a bit more distant lately. Not that he wasn’t constantly attached to your hip, but he wouldn’t talk about his worries. 

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head into the bar, seeing him sitting at a poker table staring at a deck of cards. “You okay?”

Hyunjin chuckled and threw the cards on the table. “I’m scared.” Your heart broke when he turned around, eyes tired as though he didn’t sleep a wink last night. “I shouldn't be, but I am.” 

“What do you mean you shouldn’t be scared? Hyunjin you got shot last time.” You wrapped your arms around him. “You have every right to be afraid.” 

Hyunjin sighed, covering your hands with his. “Have you ever heard stories from people who have near-death experiences?”

You leaned your head against his chest and squeezed tighter. “Yeah, I’ve heard a couple.” 

“Most people see their lives flash before their eyes.” He paused. “All I saw was you.” 

You released your hold on him so he could look you in the eyes. He looked frightened.

“I saw our first kiss, our first date, our first time together…” Hyunjin trailed off. “Then I saw what could have been the end of us… and it was all my fault.” 

Hyunjin dropped down to one knee. “I love you and I want you by my side forever.” He paused, taking your hand in his. “I know you might not want to live this kind of life, but, will you—” 

“Yes!” You blurted out. 

Hyunjin chuckled. “I didn’t ask yet.” 

“Okay.” You giggled and waited. 

“Will you —” 

“Yes.” You replied making him laugh. 

“Will—”

“Yes.” You cut him off once again. 

“Y/N please.” He laughed and pulled out a small velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yes.” You leaped into his arms, giggling as he lifted you up and spun you around. He slid the ring onto your left ring finger and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. 

You held him closer, rubbing your noses together as you said “Now I don’t want you to leave on this mission. I want you to stay home with me.” 

Hyunjin giggled. “I’m not afraid anymore.” 

“Oh yeah?” You pecked him on the nose. “And why’s that?”

“I have you to come home to.” 

[katsukisbeatingheart]

and far away

Where two points meet in the wrong place, and second chances are inevitable.

word count: 3,090

warnings: angst, mentions of death, but it ends fluffy (and dramatic), i promise

ao3

a/n: aright this was the first soulmate au i wrote and look at it not being the first i post, comin atcha live from the wake of deadline after deadline.

Anyway. i don’t even know what kinda soulmate au this is i just sorta threw it up bc i had a dream abt this and i couldn’t get it out of my head and i had to rework it until i got it right.

thank u.

shinso

dabi

sero

You know that weird feeling you get, hearing about a piece of your little big world disappearing—how maybe you took it for granted, because it was inconsequential to your immediate life, yet it was still always just there?

Things you never thought about, but they’re gone and they’ve left behind an incalculable, gaping hollow.

You take notice, and your life changes forever.

That one flower shop you would pass by on your way to work in the morning burned down last week. You’d never considered stepping foot in to it once and yet the lingering aroma of hydrangea, bishop’s lace, and caspia melded with smoke reminds you harrowingly of the crisped possibility of something beautiful growing.

The statue sitting obscurely just at the edges of town—the one you’d see very briefly through the train car windows as it blurred into distance and hapless memory—the lightrail broke down in front of it one time, you could see it had garish red spray paint at the base—toppled over a few nights ago. You must have seen and missed it a hundred times and now it would never stand tall again.

Or, a person.

The hero surging up the ranks, commanding noise and shaking the earth with a violently righteous heart and power of will—had died last night.

He won to save.

For the first and last time, he lost to save.

You'd have expected sadness, of course—after all, he was a hero—and a person.

That empathetic sense of loss was inevitable, no matter who it could be.

But a piece of you had been broken in that moment.

You woke in a cold sweat, heart hammering in your ribcage, cheeks soaked under silent tears a thunderstorm couldn’t feel coming. The grief outweighed the confusion.

Recollections of a smoky scene billowed in and out of your consciousness, the rumbling and rubble in fresh vibrations on your skin. Though when you tried to remember—when you tried vehemently to clutch at the broken pieces—your head throbbed with an unknown ache.

It was like trying to recall memories from a life that wasn’t yours.

You were listless in your haze to the kitchen, pulling down a glass to fill with water. The coolness slipped down your throat to satiate flames you didn’t ignite.

By some spell only the universe and the promise mark branded across your heart of hearts knew, you clicked the television on through cold fingers. You can’t say that you remember fishing around the couch cushions for the remote, and you clutched to it like it was the only physical thing available. A flimsy, breakable anchor and a key to your undoing. The buttons stilled and your expression grew stony upon the red headline glaring through the room at 2:14 a.m.

The glass slipped from your fingers and you fell to your knees in the fractures.

The explosion you knew ended it all echoed in your ears, its knell a salient cackle without a voice, and existence a weightless pressure on your chest and head—places he’d have to wait to kiss for another lifetime.

You’d never focused on soulmates, the mere idea of one a luxury you could not afford.

And now a cruel, implacable taunt you could not bear.

Yours was miles away, apparently, and even before this moment you were more than a little skeptical about the idea of them. You’d heard the stories—promises from and to the universe conquering distance and time.

And love.

Love so overwhelmingly pure it stretches across ages your world just didn’t have.

To you, it seemed merciless—doomed to tie with souls you could miss in more than a few incarnations. Maybe some had multiple soulmates, you’d thought. You couldn’t be sure you were one of those people—if that was at all possible—but then again you weren’t sure how to tell.

All you knew, was right then and there, you at least had one.

It killed you knowing it took losing something you never even knew you had, to want it so, so desperately bad.

The truth curled at your throat venomously, asphyxiating a slow and decadent anguish incomparable to anything you’d ever felt before. Rip a limb, a lung, all limbs, both lungs—pull your heart right through the skin of your chest in a spiked, poisonous vice; nothing could destroy you more than this.

He was gone, and you were certain it was the kind of gone you would feel the next life over.

You barely had any strength in you to curse the stars swimming in your vision; barely any will to pray for a tear in existence—a loophole to bring him back.

Another chance.

Dilapidated and barren, you had spread out over the broken glass, impervious to what can only dream of harming you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.

The crowd swirled around you, passing faces and brushing shoulders with hardly an 'excuse me', or ‘coming through'.

One particularly harsh shoulder check sent you back a step, and you whirled to get a better view at who had crashed into you.

A man in a red turtleneck, donning a tan trench coat and a frustrated growl checked his wristwatch, before looking back up to you with kindling in his eyes. They were sharp, even as he glanced down at you rather indifferently, eyebrows pulled into a harsher expression than expected for someone who had been so kind as to gratingly remind you of your place in the crowd. Just another bit of space to skirt around into the next person, most likely.

Suddenly he relaxes, eyebrows raising up the slightest.

“Hello there, stranger.”

Your heart leaps to your throat and the tears flow—an unknown relief flooding through and you feel grief from another lifetime dissipate. You launch as best as you can into his arms, and he gathers you into palms that smell like caramel and sugar and ink and brass—in a hold that makes you feel safe.

And very warm.

You feel his hands at the top of your head and pressed into your back. They're big and steady, something you hadn’t realized you needed until they were on you.

It was as if all your life you had woven insipidly day to day on a tumultuous mundanity cracking at your feet.

And now with the hand that guided you into every curve and fold of the blazing man at your fingertips were you unshakable.

You blink and the fire flickers behind his eyes. He’s staring at you intensely—as though he’d silently asked you a question only you knew the answer to. Like it would disappear from existence if he were to look away now.

That much was probably true, as his skin paled to cumbersome bewilderment and an uncertainty to make a willow tree quiver. He had frozen, as if he could see the universe unwinding on your face.

Your voice echoed a hollow “I’m sorry”, and the crowd separated you like the tide pulling from the shoreline.

•.•.•.

You didn’t know what the sea did with the waves once they took them from the coast, but you did know that aching familiar feeling of impermanence. How an undercurrent can feel like a lifetime, and yet no amount of splashing can save a riptide. Not from brevity or grief in the same short breath.

It was still that recognizable body of water. The jolt of a new ripple in a single spot designing the whole thing entirely different, even if just for that one spot. That one moment.

A lot of it was in chance, you figured; chance that was so somberly beautiful in it’s immanence and what ifs.

Work swept you by with a complicated ease. You recall people communicating to you—you just don’t remember what they had said. Or needed. Or asked. Or pleaded. Behind calls of a name that sounded nothing like yours, yet you for some reason still answered to. Your attention fixated on the improbable, and you lived your day in a vacuum. You’d been shaken up so bad and filled by so much longing that by the end of it, you couldn’t tell your own headache from the strain of the city around you.

Your step from the platform onto the train car was cement, but you willed yourself forward for the certainty of routine and familiarity in the wake of tomorrow. The presence of other people around you was vague, and you thought to yourself how you would rather be anywhere else in the world than right there.

When the doors sliding closed behind you sounded a little too final—like the angry clank of a set of iron bars—you jerked your chin up, and leapt forward to press your fingertips to the glass.

On the other side, was the man with red eyes. His blonde hair bristled, almost as if he’d felt what you were feeling. Electric. Scared.

The cement in your step earlier felt like a ball and chain now.

You pressed further desperately against the completely solid and completely flat surface, as though you could singlehandedly figure a way to defy all known laws of earthen physics and somehow permeate through the doors. It was like watching a tsunami form, feeling the flood come and go and the wind push against your face. The motions were slow—his gaze using an eternity to find you again for the second time in this life—and you could feel yourself beginning to drown.

His eyes meeting yours became the catalyst to your fifty-second undoing. The undertow touched your face, laced your ankles, and pulled you under with the abruptly unwelcome motion of the train.

You watched each other through the window.

There was a spark of motion—he had dropped whatever was in his hands in a hastened mess—and you both took off in different directions to the same apex.

You skipped and hurdled around people cramped like bricks, strewn about like greenbriers, and stretched about like tripwire. You weren’t sure if you were actually saying anything, but your mouth moved like it was trying to apologise as you zipped down the opposite end of the train, eyes never leaving the man quickly slipping through your fingers ag—

Again.

The word rang in your ear like the piercing peal after an eruption.

Dread filled your chest as you watched the end of the train come into view, and the man in red ran out of platform to chase after you to. He stopped and stared in absolute dismay, as the light catching on your face from behind the window faded into the darkness of the tunnel.

You, in turn, leaned against the back window, throwing your shoulders around to slide to the floor. People stared and murmured, their curious gazes and exchanges doing nothing to penetrate the frenzy lurching you back and forth.

Your breath stung—but not anymore than your eyes.

He might be back. Tomorrow. You never know what'll happen tomorrow, your heart reasoned. Lucky for it, it hadn’t realized the both of you had already broken to pieces. Your skin stung and prickled with a vengeance, as though barrages of glass were sprouting where your nerves would be.

Never seen him there before. This was probably just a one-time thing, the hollow muttered. It was a bitter thing absolutely none of you needed to hear, but you figured it was the truth. After all, what are the chances of finding one man you’d never run into before in your life, among the thousands you see every day?

Way easier to give in than to hope for this ephemeral nonsense.

You hardly recognized the echoed, tin voice bleeding through the intercom, announcing that you had arrived at your destination. You briefly wondered how a trip that had felt so achingly long had gone by so fast—especially now that you realized you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

Collecting yourself as best you could, you rolled up slowly, pulling your coat around you tighter. You cleared the platform and stepped glacially up the steps, taking a moment to fix your eyes on the sunset tearing a beautiful orange, red, and yellow across the usually blue sky. It was an inferno against the usual insipidness.

You fixated on the rolling greens surrounding the scar the city made with it’s cracked sidewalks and taunting buildings and yelling cars and angry people and empty promises and—

“Hey.”

Broken hearts weren’t supposed to beat so loudly but yours did. You spun on your heal to face him.

You choked and felt unbearably like you should leap into his arms, as though something was imploring you to.

“Hey there, stranger,” you whispered, with a meek crack on the end of your breath. You were facing the beginning of the rest of your life and all you could say was hey back.

The man in front of you seemed to get the same idea, because he moved closer, sauntering up the slope to close the small distance like he had all the time in the world. Though, part of that might have been exhaustion, and part fear that the wind would catch you and steal you away. His legs trembled and you wondered what reason dominated the better bit of that.

He stopped in front of you, his hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched in a resolved curve, the smallest of smiles playing at the corners of his lips. You were certain you didn’t know him, and yet you were perfectly ready to believe that little bend in his face wasn’t a usually welcome guest. It looked so foreign on a face you weren’t supposed to have any recollection of.

His voice is like crackling and smoking tinder, deep and rich and roaring. It was getting to you in ways you never expected a sound to find.

“Don’t tell me I ran the better part of an entire city just for some shitty 'hey there'.”

You don’t think you’ll ever get over your shock and awe, but you collect your wits to square yourself against him. Your movements are sinuous as you slide forward, damn near chest to chest when you raise your face again.

“Well,” you sigh, letting a not-unkind smirk slip into your features, “looks like you’ll have to stick around longer if you want more than that.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s a matter of want, but more a matter of deserve,” he grumbles. You snort at that, mindlessly catching a loose strand of his hair between deft fingers.

“Is that so? What makes you so entitled?” you tease.

His expression falls and some kind of grief pulls his brows down.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I just feel like I’ve been missing something.”

For the first time in a while, you breathe evenly. It’s an odd feeling, but not unlike that moment of clarity you imagine tides have just before becoming a whole ocean again. Like the one you’d been dreaming of for so long.

Your raindrop fingertips find the smoothness of his skin, brushing along his cheekbones to roll down and splay across the sturdy planes of his chest. The quiet is cacophonous but you inhale gently and smile the most genuine you feel you could possibly muster.

“Hi,” you begin again, eyes sweeping the fabric of his sweater, to try and find confidence in the material. You raise your gaze to his—burning through your eyelashes—and he’s glaring at you with a quirked brow that doesn’t feel at all the threat you imagine it would be in different circumstances.

“I don’t know how to describe this, but I think… there’s this something that’s telling me I’m supposed to be with you— someway.” You glide your fingers down the curve of his arms, linking very lightly around his wrist.

“I feel like you’re someone I’ve lost a long time ago—” your fingers tangle into the cracking skin along his hands,

“—and I’m being offered this one chance to find you again.”

You measure up your hands, placing them palm to palm and he stares like they’re all he can see.

“If I don’t take it you’ll be gone for good,” you whisper in a voice so frangible.

A cheekier smirk cracks his mask from ear to ear.

“In that case, I’m definitely entitled to something, then.”

“Like what?”

Tender wouldn’t have been the first choice of words the moment you crashed into the scowling man on the street—but here he was now, cantankerousness replaced with a compassion you shouldn’t be surprised he could hold—considering you’d never met, after all.

“Your name.”

You tell him with a resounding crest in his chest and when the lightning strikes, his smile actually shows teeth that aren’t grit into a grimace. The first drop of rain spills down your face, and the man in front of you catches it with his thumb.

“Katsuki.”

It was loud, hearing that name in your ears. Like being trapped inside a clock tower—the reverb of each cog shifting and clicking into place with a harsh clang, succeeding rolling tones in succinct phrases you’d been hearing all your life.

Or rather—lives.

Your places in existence swirling in and out of mosaic focus of one another, to finally comix as clandestine breaths and fluttering of skin on skin.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Katsuki,” you smile.

[beybladefanfictions]

Ryuga’s Return - Bonus Chapter

(Description: AU where Ryuga survives Metal Fury but loses L-Drago. He reunites with Kenta and struggles to figure out what he’s supposed to do without Beyblade, his purpose in life for so long. Character’s thoughts are in asteriks.)

(Since this was requested but I couldn’t fit it into the main storyline, here it is as a bonus chapter)

Ryuga’s POV

Ryuga and Kenta walked side by side through the city. Kenta's gaze was fixed on his bey. He ran his thumb up and down the facebolt, his hands fidgeting anxiously. Ryuga glanced at his friend. *He's this anxious about a battle he wanted?*

“Kenchi!" A new voice called.

Ryuga and Kenta turned around. A short boy with scruffy orange hair was dashing toward them. Ryuga took a step back. *Yu?!* He bit his lip, remembering how Yu had once been a… an acquaintance of his.

“Hi, Yu!" Kenta greeted, with a wave.

“Hey, Kenchi!" Yu replied, skidding to a halt in front of him. He glanced up at Ryuga. "A-and Ryuga…" He turned back to Kenta. “He's still living with you then?" Yu asked, pointing inconspicuously at Ryuga.

“Yeah…?" Kenta raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of a permanent thing."

Ryuga stiffened. “It's not permanent," he argued, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Really?" Kenta smirked a bit. "Because I haven't heard you make any plans to leave," he replied, nudging Ryuga's arm.

“It's a complicated process," Ryuga grunted, stepping away. “A five-year-old wouldn't understand."

“F-five?!" Kenta exclaimed, staggering back. "You know I'm not five, Ryuga!"

Ryuga smiled a bit. "Could've fooled me," he replied, ruffling Kenta's hair.

“I'm not that short!" Kenta pushed Ryuga away, huffing with anger.

“It's okay, Kenchi," Yu cut in, with a smile. “I'm short too. Us shorties need to stick together to destroy the enemy: tall people." Yu pointed at Ryuga, who just rolled his eyes. Kenta giggled a little.

"Kenta, are we going or not?" Ryuga asked, taking a step forward.

“Y-yeah, of course, we are," Kenta answered, biting his lip as he looked back down at his Beyblade.

“Going?" Yu tilted his head to the side. "Where are you guys going?"

“To the abandoned stadium." Kenta held up Flash Sagittario. "I'm battling Gingka. I've been practising really hard and it'll be Gingka's first time fighting Flash Sagittario." He smiled, despite shaking a bit.

“Awesome!" Yu exclaimed, hopping like a bunny. "Why didn't you tell me?! I want to see this battle too!"

"Well, come along then!" Kenta insisted, walking forward and gesturing for him to follow. "The more the merrier!"

Kenta and Yu walked together. Ryuga followed, stepping further away from Yu.

“So…" Yu glared at Ryuga suspiciously. "Why's Ryuga going? I thought he lost L-Drago."

"He did," Kenta answered, "He wanted to watch my battle with Gingka."

"He wants to watch a battle?" Yu raised an eyebrow. "Completely out of character, who is this impostor?"

Ryuga didn't want to dignify that dumb question with an answer. Kenta stared at Yu in confusion.

"How can a real person be… Out of character?"

Yu let out a giggle. "I dunno. Well, let's hurry up! Gingky might already be there!" Yu ran ahead.

"Hey, wait up Yu!" Kenta called, chasing after him.

Ryuga followed after them at a casual pace. He didn't feel like running after them, and he felt awkward being around Yu. Ryuga hadn't thought about it until he saw him again but the two of them had once been friends. Yu once considered him a friend at least.

Back when they were both members of the Dark Nebula, Yu always said Ryuga was his 'best friend.' Ryuga however had done everything in his power to avoid Yu. He didn't hate the kid. However, at the time, he didn't want anything to do with friendship. L-Drago was his only focus. It was really no wonder Yu seemed almost hostile toward Ryuga now.

As Ryuga got closer to the run-down looking stadium, the distinct sound of beys clashing began to echo through the air. *They've started their battle!* Ryuga rushed into the stadium. Kenta and Gingka were standing in the middle, their beys screeched as they were locked in a fierce clash.

"Hey!" Yu's voice cut in over the sound of the battle. "Ryuga actually made it!"

Ryuga cast a glance at the rafters. Yu was sitting toward the front with Tsubasa, Benkei, and Madoka. Ryuga let out a sigh. *I should've expected this battle to draw at least somewhat of a crowd.*

"Hi, Ryuga!" Madoka greeted with a wave.

Ryuga looked away. *I'll just pretend I didn't see them,* he thought, sitting as far away from the group as he could while still being able to see Gingka and Kenta's battle. Sagittario and Pegasus screeched as they smacked into each other repeatedly.

“Hit him hard Sagittario!" Kenta called, his eyes blazing.

“Go Pegasus! Gingka exclaimed, swinging his arm.

Pegasus weaved around Sagittario, smacking into it from a different angle. Sagittario pushed back against the attack. There was a pang in Ryuga's chest. Ryuga had learned the hard way that Beyblading couldn't bring him the feelings it once had, but that didn't stop him from longing for the past: when he had L-Drago.

*I wish I could just see it again…* Ryuga let out a sigh. *Can't I watch a Bey battle without being reminded of L-Drago?*

“Hey…” Madoka’s voice snapped Ryuga out of his thoughts. “Can I sit next to you?”

Ryuga let out a sigh of relief. “If you must.”

Madoka sat next to him, her gaze fixed on Kenta and Gingka’s battle. The two of them watched together. With a friend at his side, the ache in Ryuga’s chest eased slightly.

-------------------------

Kenta and Gingka's battle lasted most of the morning, pushing both of them to fight with all their might and use their special moves. In the end, Gingka won, much to Ryuga's disappointment.

Kenta walked out of the stadium beside the rest of his friends, chatting cheerfully amongst themselves. Ryuga followed further behind, not knowing where else to go.

Gingka sighed contentedly, “You know what’s best after a long battle?” he asked, gazing at his friends with bright eyes.

Madoka let out a groan. “Gingka, if you say a hamburger, I’m gonna lose it."

Tsubasa and Yu nodded. Gingka skidded to a halt, gazing at his friends.

“Oh…” The colour drained from his face.

The others chuckled into their hands.

“Guess none of you want to come with me then?” Gingka sighed, attempting a puppy dog eyed look.

“Nope, I’m good," Kenta replied, flicking his hand dismissively.

“I have someplace else to be," Benkei replied, resting his hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry, Gingka.”

“Same,” Yu replied with a shrug.

Tsubasa and Madoka nodded. Gingka turned to Ryuga, who had stopped a few paces behind them.

“What about you, Ryuga?” Gingka asked.

“No.” Ryuga didn't hesitate in his answer.

“Pft." Yu rolled his eyes. "Come on, dumb ol’ Ryuga doesn’t like hamburgers. Be realistic, Gingky.”

Benkei cast a glance at Ryuga. “Has he even had one?”

Ryuga stiffened, suddenly recalling a conversation he once had with Madoka: *Don’t let Gingka figure that out. He’ll immediately drag you to the nearest burger place and make you try one.*

“Wait, that’s a good question!" Gingka exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Have you ever had a hamburger, Ryuga?”

“Pft, no,” Kenta spoke up before Ryuga could stop him.

“Kenta!”

Gingka staggered back, his high-pitched gasp making Ryuga's ears bleed. “You've never had a hamburger?! YOU ARE TRYING ONE RIGHT NOW!”

Gingka grabbed Ryuga's arm, grunting with effort as he tried to drag Ryuga forward. Ryuga shot a narrow-eyed look at Madoka. The girl was snickering into her hand while the others stared at Ryuga and Gingka with bewildered expressions. Gingka let go of Ryuga, gasping in exhaustion.

“Please?" He stared at Ryuga with huge puppy dog eyes. “I'll pay.”

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Your pathetic puppy dog eyes won't work on me, Gingka.”

“Come on." Gingka clasped his hands together. "It's a free lunch…”

Ryuga started to walk away.

“No."

Gingka cast a glance at Kenta, then back at Ryuga with a smirk. “Away from Kenta's parents.”

"Ugh, what?!" Kenta huffed in annoyance.

Ryuga stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder, meeting Gingka's desperate gaze.

“...Ugh, fine," Ryuga sighed.

Gingka let out a gasp. "YES!" He jumped into the air with a cheer. Beside him, Kenta let out a grunt, clearly offended.

“That’s all he had to say?” Tsubasa asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the others.

“Wow." Yu rolled his eyes. "Ryuga must reeeeally hate Kenchi’s parents." He turned to Ryuga, his eyes narrowed. "What’s the problem? Are they too nice to you?”

*That’s exactly the problem,* Ryuga bit back the words.

“Come on, Gingka," he growled, grabbing Gingka's scarf and dragging him forward.

Gingka yelped in alarm. “You don’t have to drag me!” he exclaimed, trying to pull his scarf back. Ryuga let go of him.

“You just tried to do the same thing, Gingka," Madoka replied, gesturing to him.

“That didn't hurt!" Gingka exclaimed, readjusting his scarf. He let out a sigh. “Whatever. Ryuga, come on." He suddenly beamed. “I'll take you to the best burger place in town! You'll love it, trust me!"

Ryuga let out a grunt.

“Come on!" Gingka called, taking off.

Ryuga glanced back at Kenta.

“I'll be home later," he grunted, shambling after Gingka.

“Okay!" Kenta replied, with a smile.

“Hurry up!" Gingka called.

*I'm not running after you, Gingka. Forget it.* Ryuga continued on at a casual pace. Gingka let out a sigh, eventually slowing down and walking beside him. They made their way through the city.

Finally, they approached a small building with the design of a burger over the door. Ryuga pulled his hood over his head as they walked inside. *Please, no one recognize me.*

Gingka and Ryuga sat at the front counter. A waiter walked by.

“Hello-" The waiter's eyes went wide when he noticed Ryuga. "Um…" He looked down at the notepad in his hand. "May I take your orders?"

“I'll take my usual: the triple beef burger!” Gingka replied with a smile. He gestured to Ryuga. “And a classic hamburger for him."

"Okay…" The waiter cast a weird look at Ryuga, who looked away with a grunt. "Is that all?"

“We'll also take some fries. Is that okay Ryuga?”

“Whatever," Ryuga grunted.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” Gingka replied with a smile.

“Great, great.”

The waiter swiftly scribbled some notes and walked away, his gaze fixed on the paper.

"Hey, wait!" Gingka called, standing up. "I still need to pay!"

The waiter shuffled back, taking a handful of cash from Gingka before walking away again. Ryuga looked around. Behind him and Gingka, a few people in the restaurant were gazing at Ryuga with raised eyebrows. Ryuga let out a sigh. *How do I keep getting talked into nonsense like this?*

“Can we take this food to go?" Ryuga asked, turning back to Gingka.

“Uh…" Gingka tilted his head to the side. “Sure. We can eat outside, I guess. Why? What's up?"

“It's too crowded in here.”

Gingka cast a glance at the tables. “There's… barely any people?" He raised an eyebrow.

It was true. There were only six people scattered around the diner, sitting at the tables far behind them. However, that was six people too many for Ryuga.

“Maybe by your standards,” Ryuga grunted, holding his hood over his head.

Gingka seemed taken aback. “Oookay then…" He looked away, tapping his finger impatiently on the counter.

Ryuga rested his elbows on the counter. *Why does Gingka even want anything to do with me? I insulted his dead father to his face and nearly killed three of his friends…*

Eventually, the waiter came back around, placing two burgers, one small and one tall, and a pack of fries in front of Gingka and Ryuga. The waiter started to walk away.

“Uh…" Gingka raised his hand. “Can we take our food to go?"

The waiter let out a sigh, resting his hand on his forehead. "You couldn't specify this earlier?"

"Sorry." Gingka smiled innocently.

The waiter walked off again, muttering, “I'll go get some take out boxes."

He came back moments later holding two small boxes. Gingka placed one burger in each, holding the packet of fries and some ketchup in one hand and his take out box in the other hand.

“Thank you!" Gingka stood up.

Ryuga took his box of food and followed Gingka out of the restaurant and into the city.

“Here." Gingka sat on a bench on the side of the sidewalk, gesturing for Ryuga to sit next to him.

Ryuga obliged. Beside him, Gingka began snarfing down his burger like a rabid wolf. Ryuga scooted away, rolling his eyes. *You disgust me, Gingka.* Ryuga picked up the meat of the hamburger, eating it on its own like a waffle.

“Huh?" Gingka glanced at Ryuga, dropping his burger with a gasp of horror. "YOU… YOU HEATHEN!”

“What?” Ryuga grunted, glaring at him.

“W-why?!" He gestured to Ryuga's food. “Would you even…?! I don’t understand!” He put his hands on the sides of his head, looking like he was about to start pulling his hair out.

Ryuga shrugged, “At least I don't eat like a slob."

He gestured to the remains of Gingka's burger: a pile of ripped up bread and meat swimming in an ocean of ketchup. 

Gingka shrugged. “Do you… at least like your burger?" He asked, staring at him hopefully.

Ryuga shrugged, taking another bite.

“What about the fries?" Gingka held up the packet of fries. “You haven't tried the fries yet. Want one?"

Gingka handed him a fry. Ryuga took it and ate it without a word.

"Um… They're better if you dip them in the ketchup." Gingka gestured to the ketchup ocean in his take-out box.

“No thanks," Ryuga replied, stealing another fry.

“Huh." Gingka tilted his head to the side. “Not a fan of ketchup?"

Ryuga shook his head. *That ketchup has the remains of your food in it. That's just gross.* Even if that wasn't the case Ryuga still wouldn't have taken the ketchup. Because ketchup is the worst.

"So… guess you're kind of a picky eater, then?"

Ryuga's eyes narrowed. *You little-*

“You eat nothing but hamburgers," Ryuga grunted, rolling his eyes.

“What?!" Gingka dropped his burger. "That's not true! Who told you that?! Was it Madoka?!"

“So what if it was?" Ryuga couldn't help but smirk. "She's clearly right."

Gingka let out a grunt before returning to his hamburger, mumbling about something or other. With Gingka distracted, Ryuga took the chance to steal the fries.

“Hey!" Gingka gasped through a mouthful of food.

“Well, I don't see you eating them," Ryuga replied with a smirk.

“I was gonna," Gingka grumbled, folding his arms.

“Likely story."

Gingka frowned but didn't protest. He gobbled down the rest of his burger in silence while Ryuga ate his food neatly.

“So…" Gingka turned to Ryuga. “What have you been up to without Beyblade?”

“Spending time with Kenta,” Ryuga grunted, hoping Gingka would leave it at that.

“Doing what? You been playing any games or… maybe watching something?" Gingka smiled. "Ooh, if you have the time, you should totally watch Yugioh. Kenta, Yu, and I watched it a while back, it’s really good!”

Ryuga let out a sigh. “Seen it.”

“Wait really?!” Gingka’s eyes lit up.

“Kenta’s making me watch it,” Ryuga grunted, moving to the edge of the bench.

“What season are you on?” Gingka asked, scooting closer.

“Two."

“The Battle city tournament?" Ryuga nodded. “You… got a favourite character? Wait, lemme guess, is it Kaiba?”

*Yes.* Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Why are you asking?"

“I was just curious,” Gingka replied, scooting away. “You like the show don't you?"

“Yes, but it's dumb.”

“Heh.” Gingka just smiled. “Trust me. If I remember the series correctly, you won't think that for much longer." His tone was oddly ominous as if he were trying to warn him.

“What do you mean?" Ryuga asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You've already seen a bit of the mind control stuff, right?"

Ryuga nodded.

“Yeah, that gets worse. And the Battle City finals? Woo, some stuff goes down. How do I put this? It's like-” Gingka bit his lip. “…Battle Bladers?”

Ryuga stiffened. “...How so?" he asked through a clenched jaw.

“Oh, uh…” Gingka’s eyes went wide. He looked away, pretending to clear his throat. “Not like… like you're probably thinking. There's just a lot of intense battles- or, duels where dark pow- uh, a dark force is present. I-I dunno, maybe that's a stretch."

Ryuga’s fist clenched. “How many people nearly die?"

“Well… That's a spoiler."

“So you're admitting that people nearly die?” Ryuga raised an eyebrow.

Gingka stiffened. “Uuuuuuuh…” He stared at Ryuga with wide eyes, even starting to tremble a bit.

“No wonder you think it's like Battle Bladers,” Ryuga grunted, casting a glance at the ground.

“Hey…” Gingka rested his hand on Ryuga’s shoulder. Ryuga pushed it off, scooting away. “I-I don't hold a grudge against you for that…” Gingka continued, “Not anymore. I know you were being controlled by dark power-''

“At the very end,” Ryuga interrupted, turning to glare at him. “Don't defend me Gingka, I knew what I was doing to Tsubasa and…” Ryuga fell silent, biting his lip. *Dang it, what was her name?!*

“Hikaru?” Gingka prompted, tilting his head to the side.

Ryuga dipped his head. “Yes, her.”

*I don't even see her around like I see Tsubasa and Kyoya… She must really hate me.*

“Still, Battle Bladers was a long time ago,” Gingka continued, “I don't hold it against you. I mean… You're clearly different now."

Ryuga let out a sigh. “I know.”

*Almost a little too different…* Ever since he started living with Kenta’s family, Ryuga felt as if he had been tamed by this softer life. It wasn’t a bad thing, he supposed. He had admittedly grown to like the peace this new life brought him. However, not too long ago, Ryuga had been the most powerful Blader in the world, surviving on his own in the wild and now it seemed like he was the same as any other kid. It was… off-putting.

"What's wrong?" Gingka asked, shaking Ryuga out of his thoughts.

"Nothing,” Ryuga lied. *Talk about something else, talk about something else!*

“Okay?” Gingka tilted his head to the side. “If you say so. What were we talking about? Before… you know.”

“Yugioh,” Ryuga answered instantly. *I’d rather talk about that than Battle Bladers. Anything but Battle Bladers.*

“Oh yeah!” Gingka perked up. “What episode are you on exactly?”

“I don’t pay attention to the number.”

“Okay, what duel?”

“We just saw a duel between Yugi and… one of the villain’s goons.”

“That… doesn’t narrow it down.”

“They almost got sliced by sawblades. Does that help?”

“Oh, that one! Got it!”

-----------------------------

Ryuga lost track of time as he and Gingka chatted and walked aimlessly through the city together. He tried to leave multiple times. Somehow, Gingka kept finding ways to keep the conversation going. Hanging out with Gingka like this wasn't so bad, Ryuga supposed, but the whole thing was weird on principle. He kept questioning how Gingka and especially Kenta were able to convince him to do things he would have never done in his old life. *I've gone so soft… And I can't do anything to stop it.*

“Well, this has been fun," Gingka's voice pulled Ryuga out of his thoughts. "We should hang out again sometime. Maybe I could even convince the others to come with us."

“And how well do you think that would turn out?” Ryuga grunted, rolling his eyes.

Gingka tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?"

Ryuga sighed in exasperation. “Do I really need to spell this out for you?!" He snapped. Pausing to take a breath, he continued, “Gingka, your friends hate me.”

“Wha-" Gingka's eyes went wide. "No, they don’t!”

Ryuga glared at him in disbelief.

“Okay, Hikaru kinda does," Gingka replied, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "But the others don’t mind having you around. Really!”

Ryuga raised an eyebrow.

"We don't have to invite everyone," Gingka insisted, "What about Kenta and Madoka? They're your friends, aren't they?"

*What’s with everyone wanting to be my friend all of a sudden?!* Ryuga bit back the words.

“They are," he sighed, dipping his head.

It was the truth: he did consider Kenta and Madoka his friends, whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Well, uh, I guess I'll see you around then…"

Ryuga took Gingka's words as a cue to leave, turning and starting to walk away.

“Wait!" Gingka exclaimed, making Ryuga stop in his tracks. Gingka dashed in front of him. “I wanna keep in touch! What's your number?" He asked, holding out his phone.

Ryuga let out a sigh and handed Gingka his phone.

“Oh, uh, okay…" Gingka looked at the screen. “Uh, you have an unread text-"

Ryuga immediately snatched his phone back, making Gingka yelp in alarm.

-One hour ago-

-Kenta’s mom: You've been gone a while. You okay?-

“It's just from your mother!" Gingka exclaimed, rubbing his hand.

Ryuga glared up at him. “Kenta's mother," he corrected, through grit teeth.

“Oh…" Gingka looked up at him. “I kinda thought they would've officially adopted you by now."

“As if I would ever let them do that,” Ryuga muttered as he typed a reply.

-Ryuga: I was with a friend. I'm on my way back.-

“Why not?" Gingka asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Just type in your number," Ryuga grunted, handing Gingka the phone again.

“Okay."

Gingka did just that before handing Ryuga his phone back. Ryuga walked away.

“Bye!" Gingka called, going the other way.

Ryuga glanced at his phone to see one new text.

-Kenta’s mom: Okay, kiddo. Hope you had fun with your friend.-

Ryuga let out a sigh, making his way home.

(Author's Note: Apparently I'm gonna write about Ryuga until the sun blows up because this thing is now almost definitely getting a sequel. You can thank a certain Wattpad user for that. I say 'almost' because it’s still in its pre-planning stages and I can't make any promises on its release date, especially with the end of the school year approaching for me. In the meantime, I'm gonna finally start publishing something I've been meaning to publish for a while. As usual, I hope you guys enjoy what I've written.)

[wetalkinboutbooks]

New Year, New Review 🤩

A Sky Beyond the Storm by Sabaa Tahir

Summary: The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning.

At his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family.

Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory--or to an unimaginable doom.

And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life--and love--he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save--or destroy--all that he knows. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: The final instalment of the Ember Quartet had us crying in the metaphorical club. It’s exciting, terrifying, and probably the horniest book in the series and we loved it!

~Spoiler-full discussion below~

The Good:

→ Elias and Laia

Geena: In the final instalment of the Ember quartet, Sabaa deprives us of an Elias POV and slaps us with the Soulcatcher instead… He’s very much an ‘emotions are bad’ type of dude, the opposite of Elias who always had so many… but both of them are so angsty? The Soulcatcher really likes to beat up trees when his memories from when he was Elias resurface which was so emo to me. Despite being possessed by Mauth he is also such a coward, especially around Laia, because Elias’ feelings for Laia scare him and every single time he is like *running emoji*. We were surprised that Sabaa let him remain the soulcatcher for so long, every chapter I was like ‘Okay, maybe this is where Elias breaks through…’ but no.. Elias remained buried UNTIL their night in the cabin… the Soulcatcher was like ‘k I’m out’ but ONLY for ONE NIGHT and that still makes me scream.. The Soulcatcher was like ‘you kids are too horny for me, I’m gonna take a nap for a bit and let Elias take over bc Jesus.’ 

Despite it all, the Soulcatcher’s chapters were enjoyable albeit painful because this man was so duty bound, like even Elias wasn’t that dedicated when he was a Mask. But near the end, when we finally get the chapter that starts with Elias…. Ngl I cried a little, and immediately wanted to reread the whole series (I feel like Sabaa did this on purpose to torture us). I want to fight Sabaa though, like she did an amazing job showing how Elias’ conscious and the Soulcatcher’s conscious were constantly fighting one another, and how Elias’ memories of the people he loved ultimately fuelled the Soulcatcher’s actions… even though the Soulcatcher was like ‘I’m doing this for the ghosts’ like okay… no ghost told you to keep protecting and kissing Laia but you still did it…  

Kae: Okay, so Geena summed up my boy Ilyaas pretty damn well. Also, we LOVE HIS ETHNIC NAME IN THIS HOUSE. But um, YES. Elias was a sad boy ™ the whole time while fighting his emotions and ultimately losing. It was so PAINFUL as a reader, seeing all of  his chapters except the ONE say ‘Soulcatcher’. But when it finally said ELIAS again, I too, started to cry. Because he was BACK. 

You can all thank the power of Laia’s determination to seduce Elias back to himself, because our girl was NOT giving up. She said ‘you gonna get this coochie, dammit’ and in the cabin, Elias was like ‘well i’ll be damned. I sure as hell am. I am BACK BAYBEEEEE’

Geena: Sabaa Tahir said horny rights like ksjdnfdsjknfsdk

Kae: AUFVAHLHVKJ. BUT YES. In the end, love won. And so did sex because everyone was doin it or TRYING to do it. I guess when the world is ending, you only get one last time to uhh…. Have a good time. So they made sure they did lmao 

Now, let’s get into Laia. 

Laia. My sweet little cupcake. My mug of tea with too much honey. This girl has been through literal hell and back, and yet, she kept going. She NEVER gave up. Laia woke up in book 4 like ‘Today i will commit crimes. Helene and I crave violence’ and they both just started kicking ASS and I LOVED THAT. I was really happy to see the progression of Laia and Helen’s friendship and how they genuinely grew to like one another and see each other as besties. They both deserved a girl friend and I’m glad they found a friendship within each other. 

Laia is the bravest character in this damn book. She went from poor scholar, to slave, to hero and she was brave because she had to be. Laia is strong and took on their entire world. She had help, but she did a lot of it alone and that takes some real guts. She is the most genuine, sweetest, bravest girl and I love her. <3 

Laia also single handedly brought the Ilyaas back from his Soulcatcher shit. During this whole book she was just like ‘You know what? I think I’mma go mess with Elias’ emo ass today to see if I can get him to kiss me or something’ THEN SHE PROCEEDED TO SHOW UP AT THIS MANS HOUSE (realm or whatever) BUTTASS NEKKID. And he saw her and immediately flew the hell out of there it was TOO MUCH and he LIKED IT but couldn’t admit it. 

Geena: You know what I love about that whole scene was like earlier she was like ‘He’s a lost cause idc’ and then Darin was like ‘Elias wouldn’t give up on you if that happened’ and Laia was like ‘you’re right, he would show up stark naked and try to seduce me back to my body’ and she did just that...

Kae: SHE DID. SHE SHOWED UP AND SHOWED OUT! Like, her entire mission was to bring Elias back while also planning on taking down the Nightbringer. But she was straight up like ‘okay but not before i get my man back through SEDUCTION’. Ugh, the mango scene?  Superb. 

Geena: Laia is hands down one of my favourite book characters to exist. Her journey from the first book being a scared girl with a missing brother, to being the face of a revolution… like the GROWTH. Like Kae mentioned, she and Helene end up as BESTIIEESSSS, and I was surprised at how natural they seemed. Because we went from them hating each other to close friends, but despite not seeing their development, it came off so natural? So, I loved that! 

Kae covered Laia’s character pretty thoroughly, she was both a horndog and a bad bitch. Like this girl has pretended to be a Slave for the Commandment to travelling a desert by herself and facing off a squad of Jinn… In retrospect, Laia is a unique case, she’s allowed to be kind and caring and doesn’t have to be a fighter type to be strong. She’s not the chosen one, which this book made clear, it could’ve been anyone to fight the Nightbringer… but only Laia was strong enough to love him AND defy him. And I just love her a lot… she was very much an anime protagonist with the power of love, family, and friendship… anyways I love her and that’s all I have to say

→ Helene 

Geena: The way I ended up liking and rooting for Helene this book? Came out of left field. To be honest, in previous books I didn’t feel much for her other than ‘stop chasing after Elias and Laia pls.’ But this book I wanted her to win, especially with the fight against the germanic-esque invaders. She goes through substantial development, no longer seeing Scholars as slaves and taking their opinions seriously.. Like Laia, Musa, and Darin were all a part of her crew. A stark difference from Book 1 Helene, who thought Scholars only had one role in the world and that was slaves. 

Helene… like Laia… really has the Ember equivalent of hot girl summer with Harper… all the time she spends denying it she is like *jumps on him the chance she gets*. The bath scene… Helene’s power was turning her tortuer into her MAN… But also Sabaa said that ‘yes she has changed, but she has to repent for her sins’ and that’s why Helene is basically left alone at the end (save for Laia, Elias, and Musa). 

Kae: So not gonna lie, I never actually disliked Helene. I saw her as the flawed character she was in the beginning. During her cat and mouse chase with Elias and Laia in the beginning, she would piss me OFF because like, that’s your BEST FRIEEEEEND. JUST STAAAAHP. But also, it was him or her and her family's death, so I get it. But I always saw potential in her to be better. And thank GOODNESS she went through all that character development. Because she was a damn menace in the beginning. 

Also like Geena mentioned; Helly and Harper finally hooking up? I swear the heavens opened up in that moment because EVERYONE could feel their tension. LIKE JUST DO IT ALREADY. You can’t fight love, baybeeee

Watching Helly grow as a person was really rewarding as a reader. Like Geena said, she went from hating scholars to being like ‘hmm, maybe my opinions are shitty?’ and straight up changed.  I also feel for her because she lost her ENTIRE family and like, honestly? I would’ve given up. BUT SHE DIDN’T. She’s a literal fighter, bred for this shit. So she FOUGHT. And I was really scared she was gonna get murked because y’all know Keris’ tiny evil ass doesn’t have a chill button. And when they were fighting? I was like LAWD PLS DON’T  TAKE HELLY. But instead he took Harper *upside down smiley face* SO THAT WAS FUCKED UP AND I WASN’T READY FOR IT. But a piece of me knew it was coming. 

The Bad:   

→ Darin and Harper

Geena: As Kae mentioned… Harper kicked the can in this book :’( His eventual fall came from loving and caring for Helene too much, which left him open and gave Keris the chance to stab him. Harper was basically Helene’s heart outside her body, and when he went down so did Helene. I had had a feeling when Book 3 ended that Harper wouldn’t make it, but I WASN’T HAPPY ABOUT BEING RIGHT FOR ONCE… Harper had finally met his brother (Elias) and hadn’t even had a chance to meet the real Elias and talk to him about their father or other sibling stuff. LIKE OF ALL CHARACTER DEATHS… AND THERE WAS A LOT… The other one that came out of left field was fucking Darin of Serra… DARIN… THE ONE DUDE WE SPENT TWO WHOLE BOOKS SAVING… DEAD WITH A SNAP OF HIS NECK!! I WAS SO MAD

LIKE SABAA HAD US THINKING HE WAS GONNA BE SAFE, SHE GAVE HIM A LIL GIRLFRIEND AND EVERYTHING BUT THEN SHE GOES.. AND KILLS HIM?? JUST LIKE THAT?? Then we had to read the scenes where Elias helps both Darin and Harper pass over into the afterlife and I was just *cries angrily* 

Kae: Well, THAT was sad. Have you ever just like, felt your heart break into a million tiny irreparable pieces? That’s how I felt when Darin and Harper died. Because like, they were both trying to save the women they loved. Darin to Laia, (foolishly so against the Nightbringer) but I would do it for my little sister too. And Harper with Helene against evilass Keris. Dude, that shit just sucked. It hurt to read. It hurt to imagine the girls feeling the pain of their deaths. They were both such good men. And DARIIIN. 

Darin didn’t have to go out like that, man. It was such a harsh death. No last words. It was just over and his body was just gone. I wish Laia would’ve been able to talk with him at The Waiting Place at least one last time. But it is what it is. I hated to see both of them go. Especially since Darin pretty much sparked this whole series. 

Sure, Laia, Helene, and Elias were the main characters. But Darin was the spark that started the fire. And he didn’t even get to see it’s flames extinguished. 

Geena: He was the ember in the ashes… literally like Sabaa uses that for Elias and Laia but it applies to Darin the most

Kae: LITCHRALLY gonna get teary eyed over here. Our boys deserved better :( 

Conclusion 

Geena: This was not at all a disappointing end to the series we’ve followed closely for so long. The different plot points and character arcs were tied up nicely, and Sabaa Tahir showed us once again why she’s one of the best fantasy writers on this side of the Milky Way. We didn’t even bother including a ‘The Ugly’ section because we loved it too much ksfmsd. The only qualm I’d have with the end was the empire remaining, Helene recognized the Scholars as equals but centuries of pain isn’t easily forgotten you know? SO THAT’S WHY I THINK WE DESERVE A SEQUEL SERIES… BUT I DIGRESS… OVERALL, I loved this book and the ending for all the characters ESPECIALLY FOR OUR GIRL LAIA <3

Kae: YES. I AGREE 100% WITH GEENA. It was such a beautiful end to the series. Sabaa is  GENIUS and her storytelling is phenomenal. I loved every little surprise she’s hidden in all of the books. ESPECIALLY WITH COOK BEING ALIVE? I DIDN’T SEE THAT SHIT COMING AT ALL. LIKE HOLY SHIT? So Laia had some remaining family afterall, and I think that’s very sweet. I’m really sad to see the series be over with and Geena and I are both *~HOPIIIING~* for an epilogue or some little crumbs or SOMETHING with the gang and how their lives ended up into middle adulthood or something. 

Geena: I would literally take a single paragraph… Ms. Tahir…. Blease…

Kae: But yes, in conclusion, Laia has a heart of gold and we LOVE HER. She’s brave and strong and smart, and was the only one out of THOUSANDS to stick for herself and defy the Nightbringer, and save the whole world. Helene has come a long way and she developed beautifully as a character. And Elias. Ohhh, Ilyaas. His continued self sacrifice and bravery and love still helped him live in the end and I think that’s beautiful. 

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor 1 - Pt.5 [The Fallen Prince]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, though nothing serious.

Author’s Note: get ready for the pain train, choo-choo.

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath

To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It sounded like war already.

That evening, Sigyn was surprised to hear the Bifrost activate again. Something entered the palace. The two Einherjar outside Sigyn's chambers ordered her to stay within, where she was safe. She didn't argue.

She heard a struggle, what sounded like Gungnir being fired. Distant explosions. Cries.

Norns, please, if nothing else, keep Loki safe.

The Bifrost was activated yet again.

Sigyn ran to the balcony, looking out over the city, trying to catch a glimpse of who had arrived on Asgard, when she heard a familiar sound from the distance, saw a streak of scarlet heading for the castle.

"Thor!"

He disappeared behind one of the palace's spires.

But with him here, Asgard is safer. He and Loki can protect the realm until Odin awakes. Everything will go back to normal!

She swallowed, anxiously awaiting Thor or Loki to come get her. They'd smile. Tell her they'd won the battle. Celebrate.

She turned back toward the room.

Loki's helmet was gone. He must've summoned it to himself. But wearing his helmet meant he was still fighting...

He'll be fine. Thor is his ally - the Einherjar, too. They'll all fight off whatever has come here.

An enormous crash from outside made her look back over the balcony edge.

Thor was falling.

Thor had crashed through a wall of the palace and was falling.

"No!" Sigyn ran to the door. The Einherjar met her.

"Princess, you must stay here."

"No- Thor's hurt-"

"By order of the king, stay here."

They shut the door before she could retort.

Frustrated, she ran out to the balcony. The Bifrost glowed. Again. But this time, it didn't seem right. It was too bright, too loud. Left on for too long. The Bifrost never took that long to activate.

Thor flew out to it.

He's alive.

Then blue light shone from the Bifrost. The Bifrost isn't that shade of blue..

More explosions. Something broke through the Bifrost observatory, which was quickly gaining power. No one had shut it down yet.

Where's Heimdall?!

Lightning struck the bridge. Another explosion.

Then silence.

Deathly silence.

The Bifrost was still gaining power, it looked ready to burst.

Sigyn gripped the edge of the balcony tighter.

Then a low, deep boom. A flash of light.

Another.

And another.

Someone's destroying the Bifrost.

Each flash got brighter. Louder.

Please, please, wherever he is, let Loki be safe-

A final blow met the bridge with a resounding explosion, bright as a sun. The shock wave of the blast spread out over the ocean, over the city.

Sigyn watched in horror as the Bifrost fell into the abyss. Nothing else happened. She couldn't make out if anyone there was still alive.

Thor must have escaped. And Loki is king - he would've stayed here to defend the palace.

The threat was gone. It had to be.

She squinted, struggling to see in the fading light. Thor was returning, along with someone else.

They're all safe!

Sigyn raced out of the room, past the Einherjar, who yelled after her. Past patches of melting ice. Past wounded warriors, who were making their way to the healing room. She ran until she saw Thor, returning from the battle, with Odin next to him.

"You're awake- You've healed!" Sigyn ran faster to meet her father. Her brother. Her family. "You're home!" She met Thor with a hug as tight as she could muster.

But he didn't chuckle. Didn't smile.

"Sigyn.."

"All right, yes, sorry," She beamed up at him. "But you knew I'd have to embrace you, you're home at last! You're both well and- where's Loki?" She spun, looking for him. Frigga had joined them, looking slightly hurt, but otherwise well.

"Loki?" She turned again, facing Thor. “Is he with the healers? Is..”

He gazed down at her with misty eyes.

A few feet away, Odin whispered to Frigga, who broke into tears.

"Mother?" Sigyn turned, meeting the queen's gaze.

Her blood ran cold. That look. That horrible, dreadful look, unlike any Frigga had given her before.

"Frigga.." Odin looked weary.

"No. There can be no more secrets between us." Frigga exchanged a look with her husband, who after a moment of thought, conceded.

"Very well.. But we will tell Thor first."

Thor stopped Sigyn from stepping in front of Odin. "Sister."

"Why does nobody tell me what's going on? Where is Loki? What happened to him? What happened to you?" Her breath quickened, her heart raced. Any semblance of patience had gone.

"That," Odin turned to her with a decisive tone, "Will be explained momentarily. Einherjar, keep Sigyn here. Thor.. Come."

"That's not fair-"

"Sister," Thor placed an arm on her shoulder, "Wait. Wait a while longer. Father knows what he's doing."

"I'm not so sure." Sigyn huffed.

The thunder god exhaled a heavy breath. "I know." He smoothed down her hair. "Please trust him anyway."

She swallowed. Nodded. Then watched as Thor followed his parents into a separate room, the door closing behind them.

~~~~

Sigyn waited for what felt like hours.

She heard hushed whispers. Questions. Crying.

Her stomach churned. Where's Loki? He'd come for me by now.. Maybe he's in the healing room. Maybe Thor couldn't bear to tell me he was wounded. But he'll be okay.

We will all be okay.

The door opened. Sigyn stood.

Stay strong.

Thor exited the room first, his face screwed into a firm, pained grimace. He paced back and forth, gripping Mjolnir tightly.

Sigyn decided it was best to leave him alone. She turned back to the doorway.

Frigga stood, waiting for her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Silently, she beckoned Sigyn over.

Stay strong for him.

Sigyn joined her mother, glanced over her shoulder at Thor, who halted in his pacing.

"Brother?" Her voice was soft. Pleading. She didn't want to face this, whatever it was, alone.

He swallowed hard, and without a word, walked in with her and closed the door.

Sigyn sat across from Odin and Frigga. Thor stood nearby.

Odin broke the silence first.

"Where to begin.."

"You could begin with how you fell into the Odinsleep," Sigyn piped up, growing tenser by the moment. A part of her expected Loki to burst in at any moment, desperate to see her. To know she was okay. To hug her and keep her close.

"No, I think we must start from the beginning. The very beginning."

Sigyn furrowed her brow.

Before he could continue, Frigga spoke up. "Sigyn," She swallowed against another bout of tears, "We ask one thing of you."

"Yes?"

"Try to let us explain before you respond."

Sigyn fidgeted.

Frigga's hands quivered as she took a deep breath. "Please, give us a chance."

Slowly, Sigyn nodded.

~~~~

Sigyn lost track of how long she was there, listening to their explanation. Seeing Frigga struggle to hold back sobs. Seeing Odin himself work to remain composed.

But she stayed quiet, as Frigga requested. The shock alone was enough to keep her silent. The pain reduced her to staying there, slowly sinking further and further into herself, her cloak pulled close like a security blanket.

Loki was a Frost Giant. Laufey's son. A Jotun prince.

He'd been abandoned. Left to die, because he was too small. A runt. Not good enough.

Odin found him when he was just a baby. Took him in. Lied to him. Lied to everyone.

Sigyn bit the inside of her cheek.

Loki had discovered the truth while on Jotunheim. Odin found him in the weapons vault, they had argued - the argument made him fall into the Odinsleep.

Loki felt responsible for Odin's strength giving way. Her heart ached for him.

The three kept explaining.

Each word felt like a knife sliding Sigyn's gut. Every sentence stung. By now, she'd forgotten she was crying.

Loki would never try to have Thor killed.

Loki would never conspire with the Frost Giants.

Loki would never try to massacre an entire race.

Not my Loki.

"...And with the Bifrost destroyed, Jotunheim was saved." Thor was standing, Mjolnir placed carefully at his side.

Sigyn gulped. ".. Where's Loki now?"

The room went silent.

Her heart felt ready to burst. Her voice quivered.

"Where is Loki?"

Thor gave her a solemn look.

"Father was barely able to grab us in time, keep us from falling into the abyss."

"So he's safe then? Unharmed?"

"He.. Sigyn, he pleaded as though he'd done all of this - the scheming, the manipulating, the killing - to make father proud."

Sigyn swallowed.

"When father denounced him, he.." Thor clenched his fists, "He threw himself into the abyss."

Sigyn turned away from Thor, looking to her parents, desperate for an explanation. There was no way. There was no way that what Thor was insinuating could be true.

Frigga covered her face. Odin stared back at Sigyn, stoic, and spoke.

"Loki is dead."

[ibijau]

Age reversal AU: part 1, part 2, on AO3

Wei Wuxian is dead, and the world moves on

warning that this runs a bit long (8K)

However bad the reputation of the Yiling Burial Mounds, nothing could have prepared Nie Huaisang for the stench of death and the oppressive atmosphere. Lan Wangji, who had visited the place once, had described it as oddly homely once past the barriers, insisting on how Wei Wuxian had tried to make something of the place, how he had been working on purifying it. 

On that matter too, Lan Wangji must have been deluded. There was nothing pure about this place. Even demons would have refused to take such a nasty place as their domain. 

Because of his weak cultivation, Nie Huaisang found himself advised against joining the army set to enter the Burial Mounds and attack the Yiling Patriarch. Instead he remained at the foot of the mountain, helping set up a camp to welcome those who would be wounded.

And there would be many, Nie Huaisang suspected. They had caught and interrogated some of those rogue cultivators who had shamelessly proclaimed themselves disciples of the Yiling Patriarch until recently. Most had been trying to run away, terrified by the defences that their supposed master was building to protect his den. It promised something more terrifying than what he had come up with during the Sunshot Campaign, something worse perhaps than even the slaughter at Nightless City, now that he was on his own ground. Nie Huaisang would have preferred to stay out of this mess, but Nie Mingjue had left him no choice.

Among those who remained at the foot of the mountain to heal the fighters or cover a retreat, Nie Huaisang soon found Lan Qiren. It was the best company he could hope for on such a gloomy day, so he went to his side. The older man barely acknowledged his presence, his gaze turned up toward the place where already their people had to have started fighting.

"How is your nephew?" Nie Huaisang asked to break the heavy silence.

Lan Qiren tore his eyes from the mountain and glared at him. "After what happened in Nightless City, Lan Wangji decided to enter seclusion to improve his cultivation so he would not be this powerless again, should an enemy this strong rise again. The planned duration of that seclusion is three years." 

Nie Huaisang blinked a few times, then grimaced. 

"Master Lan, I have to tell you I am not a forgiving man. So with all due respect, I have lost all interest in Wangji’s life. I meant your other nephew. How is Xichen? Did he recuperate well? Will there be sequels? I'd never seen someone in that state, he was trembling so bad the entire time I carried him, and…"

"He is well," Lan Qiren interrupted in a gentler voice, instantly allowing Nie Huaisang to breathe more easily than he had since arriving in Yiling. "It was only exhaustion, his body will bear no ill effects. His heart is still affected by what happened that day, though. I thought it better if he didn't come." 

Nie Huaisang nodded. It would have felt wrong for someone like Lan Xichen to come to such a place. In truth, he would also have left Nie Mingjue home if he could have, but that had proved impossible. One of them had to go, and neither of them could have allowed the other to go alone. 

"I still don't understand how it came to this," Lan Qiren sighed, looking up once more. "Why waste a mind this brilliant in this way?" 

"People make their own choices," Nie Huaisang huffed, thinking more of Lan Wangji than Wei Wuxian. "He must have known what to expect. At this point, I’m just glad he left so early when the boys were all in your care, and that Mingjue didn’t get too close to him. To see a friend turn out like this… and did you see Jiang Cheng earlier?”

Nie Huaisang shivered at the memory, while even Lan Qiren had trouble containing his horror… or perhaps it was pity more than horror. Jiang Cheng had looked like a man ready to set himself on fire if it meant the world would burn with him. Jiang Cheng, much like Nie Huaisang, was a man who lived for his family, and so to lose his sister as well as the man he’d treated as a brother…

Nie Huaisang wondered if Jiang Cheng would make it out alive.

He doubted it, not unless some miracle happened to give him the upper hand against Wei Wuxian.

-

And a miracle was exactly what they were granted, or so it seemed.

Nie Huaisang never managed to get a clear story of what happened on that mountain. Most of his disciples were fighting on the sides when it happened, so they did not see it themselves. Nie Mingjue did, but whatever he saw left him so shocked that he would not speak about it. All that was certain was that Jiang Cheng, sword in hand, had launched himself at Wei Wuxian to make him stop his demonic music. Nie Mingjue had confessed to running after him, terrified for his friend, and then… 

And then it was anyone’s guess.

Some said that upon being attacked by Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian had lost control of his army of corpses, only to be torn to pieces by them right before the eyes of two men who had once been his friends, leaving nothing but shreds of flesh and fragments of bones, his very soul dispersed to the winds.

Other claimed that it was Jiang Cheng himself who had killed him, or Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue together, and the power of their combined righteous rage had caused the villain’s corpse to combust into ashes.

It was true, certainly, that Nie Mingjue helped Jiang Cheng down the mountain, letting his friend lean on him even though he was wounded as well. And whenever they met after that day, if they could, they would isolate themselves from others for however long they could get away with, bearing together the weight of knowing what had become of Wei Wuxian.

Whatever had happened on that mountain with Wei Wuxian, though, the worst blow to Nie Mingjue’s remaining innocence came from their allies rather than their enemies. Jin Guangshan had lost no time in making a claim over Wei Wuxian’s research, calling it compensation for the loss of his son. Jiang Cheng, exhausted by what he had just gone through, still ended up having to argue in favour of destroying every piece of demonic cultivation that existed in the Burial Mound. A fight he lost, in spite of Nie Mingjue’s support. The Jins wanted proof of their victory, they wanted treasures to increase their glory… and perhaps they also wanted Wei Wuxian’s power, if some rumours were to be trusted. With Meng Yao arguing in his father's behalf, the Jins easily won that fight.

Nie Huaisang chose to let them all bicker like dogs over an old bone. Glory held no appeal, and his sect’s cultivation method was dangerous enough already without adding to it the rantings of a madman. As soon as it was confirmed that Wei Wuxian and his Wen followers had been exterminated, Nie Huaisang grabbed his disciples, his brother, and went home.

He’d had enough of sect politics for a lifetime, and intended to stay safely in the Unclean Realm for the entire year and a few months that remained until his brother could finally take the place that was his.

-

That decision lasted about a month, until Lan Qiren wrote him a letter that mentioned how Lan Xichen was working so hard to help him with sect business. It would be good for him to see a friendly face and relax a little, after all that he'd gone through lately. 

Nie Huaisang, who had survived his early years as sect leader only thanks to the kindness and patience of Lan Qiren, found this to be a great idea. He immediately went to knock on his brother’s door and asked Nie Mingjue if he wanted to go South to Gusu, hinting that he'd be allowed to push as far as Yunmeng if it pleased him. Nie Mingjue flatly refused, because he did not want to risk running into Jin Guangyao while visiting Lan Xichen and having to be polite to him. 

"That son of a whore knows what he's done," Mingjue cryptically grumbled. 

That earned him a light slap on the shoulder. 

"I'm the son of a whore as well," Nie Huaisang reminded him. "If you're going to insult him, at least do so over something he chose. Silver-tongued devil for example. This is still about the Jins convincing everyone to let them have most of the Yiling Patriarch's research, isn't it?"

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms on his chest, like the sullen brat that he was, and shrugged.

“You should have asked for a share of it, just so we could have destroyed it like Jiang Cheng did. A little less evil in the world wouldn’t have hurt.”

“It’d have been a lot of trouble for not much result,” Nie Huaisang pointed out.

“Yes, isn’t it funny how Jin Guangyao knew exactly what to say to make you give up?”

They glared at each other, as they had done nearly every time this particular topic came up. Knowing how easily it could devolve into a full blown argument, Nie Huaisang decided to quickly redirect the conversation to its original subject.

“A-Jue, you’re going to Gusu and that’s final. It has to be you. The only reason Xichen has ever put up with me was for the sake of my friendship with Wangji… and Wangji is still in seclusion for a long while.”

"You're an idiot," Nie Mingjue announced. 

"Hey ! You owe me respect!" Nie Huaisang protested with another slap to his brother’s shoulder.

"Only when you deserve it,” Nie Mingjue retorted, sticking out his tongue before getting more serious than the conversation really necessitated. “Listen, Xichen respects you a lot. He's convinced that you're smart and funny, which shows there's no accounting for taste. And you rescued him in Nightless City when his brother left to pursue Wei Wuxian to kill him, right? So he'll be thinking even higher of you now, and he'd be happy to see you. You should take Lan Qiren’s invitation."

It was tempting, certainly. Nie Huaisang never had so much fun as when he could tease Lan Xichen, and he did like the Cloud Recesses immensely. It was one of his many regrets that he'd never had a chance to study there, like most young cultivators of good birth did. It would be so lovely to spend perhaps a week or two there, getting to chat with Lan Qiren, walking around with Lan Xichen, maybe even taking him for a day out in Gusu… 

He wanted it so much. 

"I just don't have the time for it," Nie Huaisang decided, opening his fan to distract himself. "There is so much to do around the Unclean Realm, I can't possibly go away like this. No, you should go, A-Jue. It'll be more fun for him like this. You're his actual friend instead of some creepy old man. And you need the fun as well!" 

"I could look after the sect while you're gone," Nie Mingjue suggested. "It'd just be a few weeks." 

His brother startled at the suggestion.

"Not until you come of age," Nie Huaisang reminded him, closing his fan with a snap. "I'm not letting you waste your youth. No, you're going to Gusu and you will have fun, that's final."

“Da-ge!”

“Go pack your things,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Ah, you’ll have a great time, I’m sure. Do make sure to bring me back some Emperor’s Smile, or else your Da-ge will be very cross!”

-

Nie Mingjue went to the Cloud Recesses, and spent a few weeks there. When he returned, he carried twin messages from Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, who both insisted that Nie Huaisang come visit them too.

“They’re just being polite of course,” Nie Huaisang said when they were alone in his room, opening the jar of wine that his brother had brought him, like the good boy he was. Of course it was only one, because Nie Mingjue disapproved of him drinking too much, but that he bought it at all was already something.

Nie Mingjue huffed, and snatched back the jar from him.

“No, Lan Xichen was really sad not to see you,” he grumbled. “And so was Lan Qiren. Da-Ge, you really should go. It would be good for you to take a break. You haven’t looked well since Nightless City.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Nie Huaisang objected, trying to get back his wine, only for Nie Mingjue to raise it high above his head, like the unbearable giant that he was. “Mingjue!”

“You work too much. Take a break. Go to the Cloud Recesses. I’ll look after the sect. I don’t mind.”

Nie Huaisang hopped, but Nie Mingjue only had to raise the jar higher still. He’d grown so big, just like their father. Bigger, even. Nie Huaisang had never felt dwarfed by their father the way he did next to Nie Mingjue, and his brother was not yet fully down growing… which was the issue, of course.

“Mingjue, already you’re going to become sect leader so young! And I’ve failed you during the war because I had no choice, because nobody would have taken me seriously as a war leader, but now we have peace and I refuse to burden you again before your time. It’s my duty to you, I have to protect you.”

“What if I don’t want to be protected from this?” Nie Mingjue retorted. “What if I’m tired of seeing you like this all the time?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Nie Mingjue sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t think you’ve been fine a single day since father died,” he muttered. “And it’s been worse lately. I worry for you.”

“Don’t,” Nie Huaisang snapped. “It’s not your job to worry about me. Your job is to be young and enjoy your life while you can.”

“Can’t enjoy much when my Da-Ge only stops looking sad if he has a bowl of wine in hand,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. He hesitated for a second, then turned upside down the jar he was holding, pouring all its contents on the floor while Nie Huaisang cried in horror. “If you want Emperor’s Smile, go get it yourself. I’m sure Xichen would be delighted to spend a day in Gusu with you.”

“Mingjue!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, and chucked the empty jar at his brother before leaving the room.

Nie Huaisang wanted to run after him to scold him, because he had been looking forward to drinking that with an excitement that few things provoked these days… but saying that would only have proven Nie Mingjue’s point, of course. So Nie Huaisang just sighed, and called for a servant to clean that mess.

His brother really was worrying for nothing.

He was doing just fine.

-

After a month of atrocious nagging from his brother, Nie Huaisang gave in and wrote to Lan Qiren to ask whether the invitation had been in earnest or just a matter of politeness. In case it was the second, he made sure to point out that he was writing at Nie Mingjue’s insistence, who seemed to want to get rid of him. To his surprise, he quickly received an answer that confirmed he was extremely welcome, the tone of which seemed to imply that Lan Qiren thought he had made that clear already.

Attacked on all parts, Nie Huaisang surrendered and headed South.

It was early spring when he arrived to the Cloud Recesses, which was not a bad season to be there. A little muddy, and a little cold still, but the first flowers were coming to life, and some birds were starting to return from their winter quarters. It really was such a pretty place. Every time he came there again, Nie Huaisang was struck by how much he enjoyed it, how peaceful it was compared to home, how elegant in a way none of the other sects could ever achieve.

It soothed his soul to be there, though he would never have admitted it out loud.

The company helped make his stay particularly pleasant, of course. Lan Qiren, when he could find a moment of freedom, was always a delight to chat with, cultured in a way that Nie Huaisang could only dream to be, with always a book or poem to recommend. And it was always nice to chat with a fellow sect leader who not only valued Nie Huaisang’s experience with the job, but understood his values and choices.

Mostly though, Nie Huaisang spent his time with Lan Xichen.

He had feared, when he arrived, that the younger man would want to talk about Lan Wangji. But the most Lan Xichen ever said on that subject was to give more details about his brother’s punishment, and to explain his recovery and subsequent seclusion were taking place in their mother’s old house. Nie Huaisang mentioned that he found it in poor taste, to which Lan Xichen, although clearly agreeing, said that it was his brother’s choice. Once they had said that, neither of them spoke of Lan Wangji again, still too shocked by the choices he had made.

Although deeply impacted by what had happened in Nightless City and a little more sombre than he used to be, Lan Xichen was still the same young man as before, and his company as much of a delight as ever. If Nie Huaisang had still had any doubt that his presence was wanted, it would not have lasted long under Lan Xichen’s attentive care. The young man had made many plans for the two of them, so Nie Huaisang could make the best of his time in the Cloud Recesses. When the weather allowed, they went on long walks to see rare flowers, wild birds, or beautiful landscapes hidden away in the mountains. If it was raining or too cold, Lan Xichen would give him an extended tour of the library, or sneak him into classes attended by guest disciples, so he could get a taste of what his father’s passing had deprived him of.

On a particularly sunny day, Lan Xichen offered that they go in Gusu to visit the market and to let Nie Huaisang eat something a little more to his tastes than the usual fares of Gusu Lan.

It was lovely to walk side by side in the busy street, stopping every time something caught their eyes, chatting carelessly about any inconsequential matter that crossed their mind. They tasted as many types of food as they could, with Nie Huaisang taking particular delight in buying meat and candies for Lan Xichen. The younger man protested at first, but as the day advanced he had relaxed enough to let Nie Huaisang spoil him, blushing beautifully whenever Nie Huaisang handfed him a piece of candied fruit or some roasted lotus seeds. Sometimes, on accident, Lan Xichen’s lips would brush against Nie Huaisang’s fingertips.

Neither of them would comment on that, but Nie Huaisang found himself very amused by this game between them, and by how daring Lan Xichen could be when he wanted.

It was an excellent day, through and through, which nothing could have ruined.

Nothing except a letter that had arrived from Lanling while they were out.

It was hardly proper for Nie Huaisang to have followed Lan Xichen to his room this close to curfew, but they were both still so giddy from their day out that they had decided they did not want it to finish so soon. So Lan Xichen had invited the older man to have tea in his room, arguing that the house in which he lived with his uncle had several unoccupied bedrooms, should they somehow miss curfew. Had it been anyone else but this very polite and dutiful young man making such a bold proposition, Nie Huaisang might have thought that he was the target of a seduction attempt. But of course, Lan Xichen already had his mysterious lover, whoever that was, and the Lans just did not do that sort of things.

Not that it mattered anyway, because the atmosphere changed when Lan Xichen, having finished that letter he received, silently passed it to Nie Huaisang. It was from Meng Yao, of course.

He was getting married.

Not only that, but the future bride, Qin Su, was the daughter of one of Jin Guangshan’s closest and most powerful allies. Nie Huaisang knew her. A pretty girl, sweet enough and a little romantic, and of course with a family that strong, she would make a great wife for a man whose father never treated with the respect he deserved.

A bastard could be easily dismissed and sent back into obscurity, but the son-in-law of a sect leader would be harder to get rid of.

"He's not coming back," Nie Huaisang realised, dropping the letter. The thought hit him so hard he had to quickly sit down on the sofa that decorated Lan Xichen’s room, lest his legs gave up under him. Alarmed by that strong reaction, Lan Xichen quickly joined him, sitting perhaps a little closer than necessary, not that Nie Huaisang was in any state to notice. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Meng Yao. Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang hissed. “I was still hoping he'd return to us in time, but he really made his choice, didn't he?" 

"It's what he always wanted," Lan Xichen gently pointed out. "Shouldn't you be happy for him that it's going so well?" 

Nie Huaisang grimaced. All his good humour of the day had evaporated. 

"I just thought he was smarter than that. I thought he understood, having seen my troubles. Maybe we're more different than I realised." 

Lan Xichen frowned slightly. "How so?" 

Nie Huaisang looked at him, at that sweet, wonderful young man who had never had to fight for anything in his life, and sighed.

"It's hard to explain. I tried with your brother, once. I think he understood a little, because of that situation with your mother, but… it’s too different, and you’d get it even less.”

Lan Xichen took his hand, startling Nie Huaisang.

"I want to try anyway. If it's something important to you, I want to understand." 

Normally, Nie Huaisang would have teased Lan Xichen for being too sweet and too kind, before promptly changing the subject. But it had been one hellish year, and the realisation that he had really lost Meng Yao was hitting him hard. Harder perhaps than losing Lan Wangji. They had been best friends for years, but there was so much that Lan Wangji had never managed to get, so much that Meng Yao had understood without the two of them ever needing to talk about it…

And Lan Xichen’s hand on his felt like such a comfort that he lowered his defences, knowing his young friend would never judge him.

"I am the son of a whore," Nie Huaisang sighed. Instantly Lan Xichen's fingers squeezed his hand, but the younger man remained silent, for which he felt oddly grateful. "Actually my mother was a renowned dancer, and she usually slept with her patrons only if she chose to, which is more than other women of her condition could say. It doesn't matter though. I'm still the son of a whore, and I'll always be. I don't mind, by the way,” Nie Huaisang added after a pause. “She was a good woman, a good mother, and I've decided long ago that I wouldn't ever disavow her. But it's not always… easy to be in that position."

He glanced at Lan Xichen who nodded, an impression of sincere pity on his face. He understood about bearing the weight of a mother's legacy, even if Lan Wangji had once told Nie Huaisang his brother did not know the whole truth of that matter. Because Lan Xichen had never asked, Lan Wangji had thought it kinder not to volunteer any details. And of course nobody outside their inner circle knew the truth about Madam Lan, so their situation didn’t compare with Nie Huaisang’s, but… but he didn’t doubt Lan Xichen could get this, even if he wouldn’t get the rest.

"You don't get to make mistakes with a mother like that,” Nie Huaisang explained. “Because people always say it comes from your blood if you do. Say, Zewu-Jun, would you believe me if I say that as a young child, I was even more serious and stern than your brother?" 

Lan Xichen's eyes opened wide in surprise as he shook his head, making Nie Huaisang grin. 

"My mother knew she was lucky to have been accepted as a concubine, and my father's first wife couldn't have children, so it seemed I would inherit the sect. I had to be perfect. With a mother like that, you have to be twice as good to be treated half as well. I didn't like it, didn't care for cultivation and politics, but I was so lucky to be the heir. I wanted to please the adults in my life, and I worked as hard as could to make them happy. Then my father's wife died. He quickly found another one, and she gave him a son within the year."

"Mingjue."

"The very same," Nie Huaisang confirmed with a fond smile, squeezing Lan Xichen’s hand. "It didn't change much at first. Babies die so easily, but I had passed the most dangerous part of childhood, so I was safe, I was still the heir. Until Nie Mingjue turned three, that is, and everyone figured he probably wouldn't die either.”

He shivered at the memory.

“You see, Mingjue's mother was from the He clan, which is pretty big even if it's not Great, while I… Well. Eldest or not, I was the son of a whore, of a concubine. And suddenly, with a better heir in view, it started annoying some people that I was so serious and perfect."

He still remembered the way things had changed so suddenly. He'd been ten at most when the elders started looking at him like he was a vermin to be squashed under their boot, when a week prior they'd been praising his hard work. It made him shiver again, prompting Lan Xichen to take his other hand as well as if to comfort him, sweet boy that he was.

"My mother was a clever woman,” Nie Huaisang chuckled darkly. “She encouraged me to become… less serious. I never had much natural skill for cultivation, so once I stopped putting in the work, I quickly fell behind. I avoided the training ground in favour of painting and running after pretty birds. It was a very weird few years. People scolded me and called me ungrateful and lazy, but I could tell they liked me better like that. The son of a whore has no business being skilled in anything serious. Before long, Nie Mingjue was declared the new heir, with a provision I'd still rule Qinghe Nie if our father died before Nie Mingjue was old enough."

Nie Huaisang laughed again, tasting bitterness in the back of his throat.

“It was only a precaution of course. Father was a strong and healthy man. Even with our family’s history of Qi deviations, it seemed very unlikely he would die until Mingjue was well into adulthood.”

“But he did,” Lan Xichen whispered. “And I know you’ve encountered some… opposition when that happened.”

Four murder attempts that Nie Huaisang knew of, the first of those two weeks after his father's death when he'd been just sixteen, at least one of which had been against both him and Nie Mingjue, while another had poisoned his mother instead. 

Opposition indeed.

“Nobody wants to be ruled by the son of a whore,” Nie Huaisang muttered. “I think that’s what Meng Yao is aiming for now that Jin Zixuan is dead, but it won’t work for him any better than it did for me. In fact, it’ll work worse for him than for me, because Jin Guangshan isn’t my father, and he knows Meng Yao isn’t me. My father trusted that if it came to that, I really would only rule in Mingjue’s name until he was of age. He was a good man, and he believed the people he loved were good too.”

A belief most elders of Qinghe Nie had not shared, no matter how much Nie Huaisang had dedicated himself to his brother to prove his good faith.

“You think Guangyao-ge wouldn’t act like you?” Lan Xichen cautiously asked, clearly upset that anyone would think ill of his friend. “That he would still Jin Ling's place for good?”

Nie Huaisang considered the question a moment before shrugging.

“I don’t know what he’d do,” he admitted. “But I know what Jin Guangshan believes, and that’s more important. He only accepted Meng Yao into Lanling Jin because it would have been difficult to turn away the man who killed Wen Ruohan. And then… you said it yourself back then, it would have been difficult to get rid of Meng Yao once he became the sworn brother of two youths as famed as you and Mingjue.”

Even at that time, Nie Huaisang had thought the brotherhood had been a bad idea. This only confirmed it. Without it, perhaps Meng Yao would have returned already. Without it, Nie Mingjue might have had more space to navigate his resentment, and found a way to forgive Meng Yao.

Not that Nie Huaisang would ever have said that to Lan Xichen, for fear of hurting him. Sometimes, the truth was not worth sharing.

“Men like me and Meng Yao just aren’t meant for this,” he sighed. “There is no place for us in the cultivation world.”

“There is!” Lan Xichen protested, squeezing his hands so hard it was nearing on painful. “Nie zongzhu, you are such a great sect leader! Uncle always says how well you’ve been doing even when everyone was against you, how Qinghe Nie is just as strong as it was in your father’s days. And you’ve taken such good care of Nie Mingjue! He’s a very upright person who always stands for what’s just, even when it’s not easy. And he’s very happy to have you as a brother. He really loves you a lot, and he knows you love him and that you’re… you’re always going to take his side.” He sighed, thinking of his own brother perhaps, then smiled brightly. “Nie zongzhu, you’re an amazing person.”

Under such heavy praise, Nie Huaisang’s cheeks started burning. Usually, when he chatted with Lan Xichen, he was the one to give compliments until the younger man was redder than cinnabar. To be given a taste of his own medicine was impossibly uncomfortable, especially when he knew Lan Xichen never said anything he did not mean.

“And you’re too sweet with this old man,” Nie Huaisang laughed, awkwardly pulling his hands away so Lan Xichen wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating. “Ah, I shouldn’t have bothered you with all this, you don’t care about my life. And as for Jin Guangyao…”

“Nie zongzhu, you didn’t bother me at all,” Lan Xichen protested, daringly putting one hand on Nie Huaisang’s knee. “I am truly happy that you trusted me enough to tell me these things. I’ve told you, if it’s important to you, I want to understand it, because… because you are very dear to me.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows rose in surprise at that declaration, at that bold gesture, his heart racing in his chest. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought…

But Nie Huaisang had not survived this long by entertaining silly fantasies, so he buried that idea as quickly as it had appeared, and focused on what was truly there: the friendship of a very accomplished young man, who he apparently trusted enough to share what he had never told anyone before, not even Lan Wangji or Meng Yao, and who had listened with more patience than his ramblings deserved.

“I’m glad you think of me so well,” he told Lan Xichen, patting the hand on his knee. “I don’t have a lot of friends, especially now that your brother is… absent. But what I lack in quantity, I seem to make up in quality. Any man would be lucky to have the affection of the great Zewu-Jun, and I am grateful to know you.”

Lan Xichen smiled at him so fondly that for a moment, Nie Huaisang forgot how to breathe.

He quickly recovered though, and in spite of their earlier discussion that he could stay the night in one of the spare rooms if need be, Nie Huaisang left soon after so he would not have to risk breaking the curfew. Lan Xichen looked disappointed, but it was the best course of action.

If they had stayed up, if they had kept exchanging confidence in the cover of darkness, Nie Huaisang feared he would have gotten more of those stupid, fanciful notions into his head. He simply could not risk that, not when, as he’d said, he had so few friends left already.

-

Very soon after learning of Jin Guangyao’s engagement, Nie Huaisang left the Cloud Recesses. Although he told himself and others that he had neglected his responsibilities too long, the truth was that he suddenly did not feel as comfortable as before around Lan Xichen. His traitorous mind kept wanting to read too much into the younger man’s smiles and warmth, which could not be tolerated. Lan Xichen deserved better than to have a creepy old man paying too much attention to him for all the wrong reasons. 

When one morning Nie Huaisang found himself internally debating whether a six year difference really made him too old to flirt with Lan Xichen, he knew he had to leave.

It was nice to be home again, anyway. Certainly the Cloud Recesses were great, but home was home, and Nie Huaisang had missed his brother dearly. He was pleased to find that in his absence, his brother had done a great job with everything, dealing with daily affairs quite easily, turning to some trusted elders when something unusual came up that required more seasoned opinions. Nie Mingjue really would be an amazing sect leader when his time came, and Nie Huaisang, for the very first time, found himself sincerely looking forward to that. Up until then he had always felt guilty about it, thinking that his brother deserved better than a youth wasted in councils and paperwork, but Nie Mingjue was so proud of what he had managed during that month and a half, so eager to do more…

It was obvious that Nie Mingjue enjoyed that position, enjoyed having the power to help others. He was made to be sect leader in a way that Nie Huaisang wasn’t.

Nie Huaisang had to quickly wipe a few tears of emotions when he realised that. His little brother really had grown into a good man, and Nie Huaisang was proud to have had a hand in that, however small.

Because Nie Mingjue had done so well during those few weeks, Nie Huaisang gave in when his brother requested that he continue helping with sect business. Nie Mingjue was allowed to sit at more and more councils, even accompanying his brother when he had to go meet other sect leaders to discuss this or that matter. Nie Huaisang had originally intended that this would give Nie Mingjue a chance to learn a little diplomacy, but he quickly realised that it would likely not happen. Whatever other qualities he had, Nie Mingjue did not believe in compromises, and he refused to treat with fake deference anyone who he thought had not earned it.

It made Nie Mingjue surprisingly popular with the leaders of a number of small sects. Used as they were to Jin Guangshan’s empty politeness, or to Nie Huaisang barely concealed indifference, they usually appreciated the way Nie Mingjue would actually listen to their complaints, as well as the way he often bullied his brother into action. In particular, Nie Mingjue paid great attention to their complaints against certain new Jin guest disciples who showed little respect for anyone during Night Hunts, and seemed to use unusual methods. 

There was little to be said against their use of special compasses to track evil creatures. In fact, many sects and rogue cultivators were showing great interest in that new invention, hoping that Lanling Jin would either reveal how they were made or, more likely, sell them. Even Nie Mingjue could not disapprove of that, and gladly accepted one which Jin Guangyao gifted to him. 

But there were other less savoury things happening in Lanling Jin, rumours of fierce corpses captured rather than put to rest, only to be then released against other creatures to see if the two evils could be pushed to mutual destruction. And that was without getting into the problem of Xue Chengmei, a vicious boy who got into fights left and right, with allies and enemies alike, but remained under Jin Guangshan’s protection no matter how much he misbehaved. Rumour had it that he was the only person Lanling Jin had found who could make sense of Wei Wuxian’s notes, that he was the one who had recreated his compasses of evil and now worked on deciphering his other inventions.

The more time passed, the more rumours against Xue Chengmei’s behaviour reached them, the angrier Nie Mingjue became. If he had been sect leader already, it was clear that he would have confronted Jin Guangshan about his protégé. It was taking Nie Huaisang a lot of diplomacy to keep the situation manageable, fearful that his brother would accidentally start a war for which they were not ready.

Things escalated further at Jin Guangyao’s wedding when Nie Mingjue escaped his brother’s watch and confronted Xue Chengmei about some stories he’d heard recently that concerned a group of cultivators who had vanished during a Night Hunt. Nie Huaisang, who had been happily chatting with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, had to rush to his brother’s side to stop a fight. Nie Mingjue refused to share what Xue Chengmei had said to upset him so much, and he refused to apologise as well, so Nie Huaisang had to do it for him. Jin Guangshan, already clearly unhappy at being forced to spend any money on the wedding of a bastard he despised so much, had spent the entire apology glaring at Nie Mingjue with such hatred that Nie Huaisang found himself truly fearful.

After that day, Nie Mingjue stopped coming with him on visits to Lanling. He could still accompany him anywhere else if it pleased him, but it seemed unwise to bring him to Carp Tower until things had settled down a little.

A month or two after his marriage, Jin Guangyao came to visit them in the Unclean Realm, bringing Lan Xichen with him, and he made it clear that he entirely agreed with Nie Huaisang’s decision.

It was pleasant to be all four of them like that, something which hadn't happened in a long while. They had settled for tea in Nie Mingjue’s quarters, the three young ones insisting loudly that Nie Huaisang absolutely belonged with them when he’d tried to leave them alone, forcing him to sit next to his brother, right across the table from Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang had grumbled about being too old for their company, as he always did, but it had not taken much effort to convince him to stay. It was a very pleasant moment spent with three of the people he loved best in the world, up until Nie Mingjue made a remark against Jin Guangyao, spoiling the mood entirely.

“Mingjue, you should not antagonise my father so much,” Jin Guangyao warned with what sounded like sincere worry. “You will soon be sect leader, in less than a year now, and it is not reasonable to let personal quarrels come in the way of politics.”

“My issue with your father is entirely political,” Nie Mingjue casually retorted. “On a personal level, I have too much disdain for him to ever bother arguing with him.”

Nie Huaisang gasped, and slapped his shoulder.

“A-Jue, please behave. You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not? You say it all the time. I’m sure Guangyao-ge knows exactly what you think of his father. Damn, I’m sure Guangyao-ge thinks the same, even if he’s too polite to ever say it.”

Nie Huaisang gasped again, while poor Jin Guangyao looked down at his tea with a pitiful expression, refusing to either confirm or deny his opinion of his own father.

“A-Jue, you’re awful,” Nie Huaisang complained, reaching over the table to grab a few candied fruit that Lan Xichen had brought with him. “A-Yao isn’t wrong, a little diplomacy wouldn’t hurt you. I was so looking forward to retiring from being sect leader, but if you’re going to pick fights with every single other sect, I’ll have to stay with you instead and help keep you safe. Ah, you’re really ruining all my plans, you ungrateful child!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, as if it did not concern him in the least that perhaps Nie Huaisang had hoped for a break from all that political mess.

Brat.

“And what are your plans then, Huaisang-ge?” Lan Xichen quickly asked to distract from politics.

Nie Huaisang smiled at him, unable to help himself.

“Well, if someone can stop making trouble for just a moment…” he poked his brother in the rib, to which Nie Mingjue only rolled his eyes. “Then I would really like to travel for a bit. The world is vast, and full of beauty that I wish to see, perhaps even to paint if I manage. I used to paint a lot as a youth, though I haven’t had the time in years.”

“I think I’ve seen some of your work,” Lan Xichen said with a nod. “You’d gifted them to my brother, and he hung them in his room. There’s a beautiful view of mountains…”

“Yes, I painted it the first time I came to the Cloud Recesses with my father. Ah, I miss painting so much… though I’m sure I’ve lost what little skill I had, after so long.”

Nie Mingjue frowned, as he did sometimes when Nie Huaisang forgot himself and became too nostalgic over his long gone youth.

“I’m sure you’d figure it out again,” he said. “And at worse, Er-ge could probably give you a lesson or two. I’m sure he’d like that.”

“I would,” Lan Xichen eagerly agreed. “And perhaps… you know, my brother’s seclusion will end not too long after A-Jue can take over Qinghe Nie. What if… Huaisang-ge, what if you came to stay in the Cloud Recesses until then, so I could give you lessons, and after maybe I could accompany you for a time in your travels?”

Nie Huaisang stopped breathing and stared at the young man. Lan Xichen’s face was quickly turning very pink, his expression fearful and hopeful all at once. The way he looked at Nie Huaisang bore such intensity that the older man had to drop his gaze, unable to withstand it.

Whenever he’d allowed himself to dream of travelling around the country, he had always pictured himself entirely alone. It was the only option, when his few friends all had so many responsibilities. And yet, it was impossibly easy to add Lan Xichen’s presence to that little fantasy of his. It would be quite nice to spend so much time together, walking or flying side by side, sharing meals, visiting beautiful landscapes, asking to meet wise men or renowned poets. Out of everyone he could have considered as a travel companion, only Lan Xichen was someone who Nie Huaisang could imagine spending months and months with and never get tired of.

It would have been so nice, and Nie Huaisang suddenly found himself desperately wanting it, now that it had been suggested to him.

“Ah, Zewu-Jun, I wouldn’t be opposed, but I doubt it’s very wise,” he replied with a weak laugh. “First of all, your uncle would never agree to let you leave.”

“I think he wouldn’t mind,” Lan Xichen protested softly. “Not if I’m going with you.”

“Oh. But then… what about that lover of yours?”

Stunned silence fell around the table, three pairs of eyes staring at Nie Huaisang as if he’d grown a second head.

“Aren’t you still waiting for him to be free from other obligations?” Nie Huaisang insisted. “I don’t know what sort of agreement you have with that man, but you have to consider that he might take it the wrong way if you travel around with someone else. I’m not saying it cannot be done as friends, of course it can, but some people might make wrongful assumptions about our situation, and your lover first of all.”

From the corner of his eyes, Nie Huaisang saw his brother and Jin Guangyao exchange a disbelieving glance, as if both were thinking they’d never heard anything so stupid in their lives. And certainly, nobody could seriously accuse a Lan of misbehaving, least of all Lan Xichen whose reputation was so excellent, but a lover’s jealousy was not something to be dismissed.

Before Nie Huaisang could say so, Lan Xichen reached over the table to take his hands in his.

“Huaisang-ge,” he said shyly, “if we travel together in the future, then I can only hope that the man I love will come to the right conclusions about it.”

Nie Huaisang opened his mouth, ready to say that of course, for Lan Xichen’s sake, he also hoped that man would not read too much into the situation.

That was when it finally hit him.

The warmth of Lan Xichen’s hands on his.

The way he blushed at Nie Huaisang’s compliments, how he wouldn’t stop smiling around him.

That story about a man who wasn’t free yet but was certain to be one day.

How everyone, for months, for years even, had been trying to make him notice this.

Lan Xichen wanting to travel with him, knowing how others would perceive it, wanting that perception to be the truth…

Seized by a sudden panic, Nie Huaisang jumped to his feet and left the room.

He did not go far, stopping right on the other side of his brother’s door. He wasn’t running from whatever had just happened, but he needed a moment to compose himself and accept that it had, in fact, happened. That Lan Xichen, for reasons known only to him, had decided that the man he loved was Nie Huaisang. That Lan Xichen, who could have had anyone, wanted a lazy and politically indifferent son of a whore, with a cultivation so low that his own juniors had to rescue him during Night Hunts sometimes.

It made no sense, though it did confirm that those Lans really had terrible tastes in partners.

Not that Nie Huaisang found anything to complain about. If this was true (and it had to be true, Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort to play cruel pranks) then it was everything Nie Huaisang had told himself he shouldn’t want for months now. If he really was this lucky…

Just as Nie Huaisang was starting to calm down enough to consider returning inside, the door to his brother’s room opened again. Lan Xichen came out, looking rather dejected, and gasped softly when he saw that Nie Huaisang was right there. The young man hesitated for an instant, then walked closer to Nie Huaisang, his head hung low.

"It's fine if you don't feel the same," Lan Xichen whispered. "I've been happy as your friend this long, I don't mind leaving it at that." 

It was too much. For once in his life, Nie Huaisang was left speechless. It had been incredible already to realise that Lan Xichen might truly want him. But to think that this brilliant young man could think himself unworthy of having his affection returned, that Lan Xichen might not have noticed how much Nie Huaisang had struggled not to abuse the friendship given to him...

If words failed him, actions would have to do. Since Lan Xichen was standing so close to him, all Nie Huaisang had to do was to extend his arm and he was able to take the young man's hand in his. It felt right, as so many things did where Lan Xichen was concerned. 

They remained like that a while, silent side by side. It would have been unreasonable to make promises anyway. Nie Huaisang couldn't afford to waste time on his own life until Nie Mingjue was where he belonged. 

Still, this felt like the promise of a promise, and it was already more than Nie Huaisang ever thought he would get. 

After a while they went back inside, still holding hands. Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at the sight, complaining that he’d suffered so much from the way they wouldn’t stop looking at each other, so they’d better become less annoying now that they knew where they stood. Even Jin Guangyao teased them a little about it.

“And you’ll have to get your brother under control now,” he joked. “You can’t run off to be a rogue cultivator with Xichen if Mingjue keeps getting into arguments, so please teach him to keep his temper in check.”

“It won’t be my problem,” Nie Huaisang retorted cheerfully. “It’s your sworn brother and your father. You can deal with them, A-Yao. I’ll be far away in the mountains with Xichen, painting and watching him fight whatever monsters we encounter.”

All four of them laughed at that declaration, thought perhaps Jin Guangyao’s amusement sounded a little less earnest than theirs. At some other time Nie Huaisang would have taken note of that, but he was simply too happy to do so.

For the first time in many years, the future felt like something worth waiting for, and nothing else mattered.

[arcticdementor]

I think I've had discussions w/enough Boomer-tier Trump supporters who believe the 2020 election was fraudulent to extract a general theory about their perspective. It is also the perspective of most of the people at the Capitol on 1/6, and probably even Trump himself. 

…

Here are the facts - actual, confirmed facts - that shape their perspective: 1) The FBI/etc spied on the 2016 Trump campaign using evidence manufactured by the Clinton campaign. We now know that all involved knew it was fake from Day 1 (see: Brennan's July 2016 memo, etc). 3/x

These are Tea Party people. The types who give their kids a pocket Constitution for their birthday and have Founding Fathers memes in their bios. The intel community spying on a presidential campaign using fake evidence (incl forged documents) is a big deal to them. 4/x

Everyone involved lied about their involvement as long as they could. We only learned the DNC paid for the manufactured evidence because of a court order. Comey denied on TV knowing the DNC paid for it, when we have emails from a year earlier proving that he knew. 5/x

This was true with everyone, from CIA Dir Brennan & Adam Schiff - who were on TV saying they'd seen clear evidence of collusion w/Russia, while admitting under oath behind closed doors that they hadn't - all the way down the line. In the end we learned that it was ALL fake. 6/x

At first, many Trump ppl were worried there must be some collusion, because every media & intel agency wouldn't make it up out of nothing. When it was clear that they had made it up, people expected a reckoning, and shed many illusions about their gov't when it didn't happen. 7/x

We know as fact: a) The Steele dossier was the sole evidence used to justify spying on the Trump campaign, b) The FBI knew the Steele dossier was a DNC op, c) Steele's source told the FBI the info was unserious, d) they did not inform the court of any of this and kept spying. 8/x

Trump supporters know the collusion case front and back. They went from worrying the collusion must be real, to suspecting it might be fake, to realizing it was a scam, then watched as every institution - agencies, the press, Congress, academia - gaslit them for another year. 9/x

Worse, collusion was used to scare people away from working in the administration. They knew their entire lives would be investigated. Many quit because they were being bankrupted by legal fees. The DoJ, press, & gov't destroyed lives and actively subverted an elected admin. 10/x

This is where people whose political identity was largely defined by a naive belief in what they learned in Civics class began to see the outline of a Regime that crossed all institutional boundaries. Because it had stepped out of the shadows to unite against an interloper. 11/x

GOP propaganda still has many of them thinking in terms of partisan binaries, but A LOT of Trump supporters see that the Regime is not partisan. They all know that the same institutions would have taken opposite sides if it was a Tulsi Gabbard vs Jeb Bush election. 12/x

It's hard to describe to people on the left (who are used to thinking of gov't as a conspiracy... Watergate, COINTELPRO, WMD, etc) how shocking & disillusioning this was for people who encourage their sons to enlist in the Army, and hate ppl who don't stand for the Anthem. 13/x

They could have managed the shock if it only involved the government. But the behavior of the corporate press is really what radicalized them. They hate journalists more than they hate any politician or gov't official, because they feel most betrayed by them. 14/x

The idea that the press is driven by ratings/sensationalism became untenable. If that were true, they'd be all over the Epstein story. The corporate press is the propaganda arm of the Regime they now see in outline. Nothing anyone says will ever make them unsee that, period. 15/x

This is profoundly disorienting. Many of them don't know for certain whether ballots were faked in November 2020, but they know for absolute certain that the press, the FBI, etc would lie to them if there was. They have every reason to believe that, and it's probably true. 16/x

They watched the press behave like animals for four years. Tens of millions of people will always see Kavanaugh as a gang rapist, based on nothing, because of CNN. And CNN seems proud of that. They led a lynch mob against a high school kid. They cheered on a summer of riots. 17/x

They always claimed the media had liberal bias, fine, whatever. They still thought the press would admit truth if they were cornered. Now they don't. It's a different thing to watch them invent stories whole cloth in order to destroy regular lives and spark mass violence. 18/x

Time Mag told us that during the 2020 riots, there were weekly conference calls involving, among others, leaders of the protests, the local officials who refused to stop them, and media people who framed them for political effect. In Ukraine we call that a color revolution.

…

Then you get the Hunter laptop scandal. Big Tech ran a full-on censorship campaign against a major newspaper to protect a political candidate. Period. Everyone knows it, all of the Tech companies now admit it was a "mistake" - but, ya know, the election's over, so who cares?

…

Think back: Stories about Trump being pissed on by Russian prostitutes and blackmailed by Putin were promoted as fact, and the only evidence was a document paid for by his opposition and disavowed by its source. The NY Post was banned for reporting on true information. 24/x

The reaction of Trump ppl to all this was not, "no fair!" That's how they felt about Romney's "binders of women" in 2012. This is different. Now they see, correctly, that every institution is captured by ppl who will use any means to exclude them from the political process. 25/x

And yet they showed up in record numbers to vote. He got 13m more votes than in 2016, 10m more than Clinton got! As election night dragged on, they allowed themselves some hope. But when the four critical swing states (and only those states) went dark at midnight, they knew.

…

Media & Tech did everything to make things worse. Everything about the election was strange - the changes to procedure, unprecedented mail-in voting, the delays, etc - but rather than admit that and make everything transparent, they banned discussion of it (even in DMs!). 28/x

Everyone knows that, just as Don Jr's laptop would've been the story of the century, if everything about the election dispute was the same, except the parties were reversed, suspicions about the outcome would've been Taken Very Seriously. See 2016 for proof. 29/x

Even the courts' refusal of the case gets nowhere w/them, because of how the opposition embraced mass political violence. They'll say, w/good reason: What judge will stick his neck out for Trump knowing he'll be destroyed in the media as a violent mob burns down his house? 30/x

It's a fact, according to Time Magazine, that mass riots were planned in cities across the country if Trump won. Sure, they were "protests", but they were planned by the same people as during the summer, and everyone knows what it would have meant. Judges have families, too. 31/x

Forget the ballot conspiracies. It's a fact that governors used COVID to unconstitutionally alter election procedures (the Constitution states that only legislatures can do so) to help Biden to make up for a massive enthusiasm gap by gaming the mail-in ballot system. 32/x

They knew it was unconstitutional, it's right there in plain English. But they knew the cases wouldn't see court until after the election. And what judge will toss millions of ballots because a governor broke the rules? The threat of mass riots wasn't implied, it was direct. 33/x

a) The entrenched bureaucracy & security state subverted Trump from Day 1, b) The press is part of the operation, c) Election rules were changed, d) Big Tech censors opposition, e) Political violence is legitimized & encouraged, f) Trump is banned from social media. 34/x

They were led down some rabbit holes, but they are absolutely right that their gov't is monopolized by a Regime that believes they are beneath representation, and will observe no limits to keep them getting it. Trump fans should be happy he lost; it might've kept him alive. /end