#sorry everybody. i just think he might have gone mad with grief for a moment there

[pomodoriyum]

man i hope crozier made out with fitzjames’s corpse after he euthanized him

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Heyyyy uh I love your stuff and I had an idea that wont let me sleep 😂 What if like the reader was mia or something and everyone was really upset and nervous and cobb kept saying how you were dead until doc roe just has enough of his bullshit and just punches him. (Feel free to change the character i just thought doc losing his composure was an interesting concept) bonus points for romantic connection? Im sorry if this is horrible im vry vry tired

Taglist: @radiantcade, @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi, @noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @hufflepuffpancakes

yo i can totally get why this idea wouldn’t let u sleep. its because its damn good-  

lovely anon, this one is for you ;))))

also italic means past events-

words: 2.8k words (aww srry if its shorter than my other fics)

warnings: some violence, cursing, ANGST and sadly no resolved or happy ending :’((((

btw thank u @radiantcade for tellin me to make a taglist, major kudos to u ma’am. btw if you want to be added just hmu, no worries ;)))

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Eugene Roe x Reader)

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“Aw, Genie! Don’t look at me that way!”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re mad! C’mon Genie, it was only a joke! Y’know I didn’t mean to make you upset by taking your morphine-”

Gene shot you a look which seemed to look like a mix of exasperation and annoyance. He stiffly grabbed the small packets of morphine that were being held in your grip. Eugene then quickly stuffed them in his pocket before walking away from your position with his signature blank look.

“I’m not mad.”

“Hey! You are! I can tell by your face.”

You followed after him, desperate for him to accept your apology, or at least for him to give you a smile. You desperately tried to keep up with him, his brisk pace making it a challenge for you to walk by his side.

“Well, this is the face I got.”

He walked faster, seemingly trying to avoid or lose you. He walked through buildings, dove straight forward into crowds of people, or even going as far as to tell someone to block you. You still made haste though, and in no time were already hot on his heel. 

You grew tired of it and reached out to grab his hand. After you had his hand in yours, he stopped immediately and turned slowly to face you.

“For someone who’s mad, you’re acting awfully childish.”

“(Y/N), for the last time, I’m not mad. I can never get mad at you”

“Then what are you?”

You stood in front of him with one eyebrow quirked up and your hands on your hips. You tapped your foot on the ground as you waited for an answer.

You were left shocked as he pushed by you. He was only a couple steps away from you until he turned with a small smile and gave you a shrug before heading back to the Med Bay.

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It was that day, the day that Eugene Roe realized how much he cared for you.

It’s been four days since you disappeared from Easy Company. Four. Fucking. Days. Everybody was extremely worried and your absence has made everyone tense. 

If someone as lovable and skilled as you was missing, then they certainly wouldn’t stand a chance.

The men weren’t the same and it took a significant toll on every single one of them. But it especially took a large toll on the Cajun medic. Eugene couldn’t believe it. He refused to. He refused to believe that you weren’t there with them for four days.

Where the fuck were you? That was the thought on everyone’s minds. 

Eugene couldn’t comprehend it. It felt like only yesterday that you were there right beside him, making him turn as red as his nose and making his heart pound like a drum. 

Memories of you were still fresh on his mind, and they always seemed to taunt him.

He’d think of scenarios of you not being missing and how’d it was all just a big stupid joke or dream. Your face was all he could think about and his heart clenched every time.

It was soul-crushing, and he despised it. Eugene couldn’t focus since the day you were reported gone. Of course, he was fine after a few days, but the feeling of unease and tension grew with each passing moment. It gnawed on him continuously, but he couldn’t stop it.

(E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair was what he only wanted to see. But then he would see those beautiful eyes of yours dull and void of life, your once soft hair then greasy and matted with dried blood. Eugene would wake up in a cold sweat, the beating of his heart deafening him.

Everyone noticed his changed demeanor. Eugene got more cold, a little more distant and stand-offish. His personality mirrored everybody else’s after they got the news. But he was the one that was most affected. That was a fact.

Eugene was spacing off more than what was necessary. He was constantly in a daze and of course slower in his work. It was only when someone was injured that he was moving fast. But even then, he still wasn’t focused.

The spark of life in him was extinguished and that affected his work. He’d sometimes forget what he was doing, causing one of his patients to scream at his ear. 

It wasn’t the first time it happened. As the days went by, the more Eugene got caught up with his thoughts on your being. 

It caused him to get a nice chat with Winters on why he was acting like this.

“Roe… I know that it just might be nothing, but I noticed that you aren’t the same. Like something’s been bothering you. May I ask why you’re acting like this.”

“Sir, I think you already know of (Y/N) being MIA.”

Winters immediately looked down, as even someone with such authority like him was distraught about you. Winters quickly looked up and cleared his throat, eyes full or sorrow like Gene’s. 

Eugene straightened his back and he gripped onto the fabric of his pants.

“Of course… It’s been affecting everyone. I just wish that she was back with us. Do you still believe that she’s alive, Roe?”

“Of course, sir. I’m sure that she’ll turn up. Someday.”

“Maybe, Roe…” Winters nodded towards Eugene with a tight smile. “Dismissed.”

Eugene was being hit with numerous waves of anger, sadness, and worry. All five stages of grief were being experienced at the same time. He walked away, and even if he was supposed to be used to it by now, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so.

Images you being held prisoner and being tortured by the German Army scared him. Then images of you lying on the ground, fresh bullet wound on your head, the crimson liquid running down your face and onto the ground to create a morbid halo flashed afterwards. 

Eugene did nothing but drown in his thoughts underneath a tree nearby after that.

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“Gene?”

“Yes, mon ange?”

“Why do you always call me that?”

“For starters… You are one.”

“One of what?”

“An angel. ‘Mon ange’ means ‘my angel’. I also call you that because… Like I said, I am sure that you are one yourself. I wouldn’t believe you if you said you weren’t.”

The sun beamed down upon the two of you as you sat upon the grassy field. Your eyes were on the lush green trees in the distance, Eugene’s eyes, however, were fixed upon your face. You seemed oblivious to it, fortunately for him. 

You smiled and you turned your eyes to meet his, and you reached your (S/C) hands to intertwine with his bigger ones. You turned back to set your gaze on the forest, but the dark-haired man’s look never averted.

“Gene…”

“Hm?”

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do. God forbid the day I stop calling you mon ange.”

You rested your head on his shoulders, as the sun set over the horizon. Eugene tensed up momentarily before he relaxed, taking in your warm presence and happy demeanor. You tightened your hold on his hand and a smile crept on your lips.

“Je t’aime, mon ange…”

“I love you too, Genie.”

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It had been more that a week since any sign of you. Some of the paratroopers had already seemed to have given up hoping for you to magically come back. No one dared to mention you, it was already too much to handle. Some of the privates that you knew couldn’t say your name without tearing up.

 Eugene felt like that too, but he was too cold to let anybody see him that way.

Most of Easy Company still held on to their feeble thoughts and dreams however. Eugene was one of them.

 He waited for a sign. Any sign. No matter how insignificant or small, he wanted one. He just wanted a sign that reassured him that you were indeed fine and well.

Eugene of course waited patiently for it. His nights were spent praying for you to return to them. Most importantly, to return to him.

 By then he would make sure that you would always be by his side. By then he’d also make sure that he won’t take those fleeting moments he spends with you for granted.

Eugene already did that too much and those were one of the many things he regrets. If he ever sees your face again, he’ll make sure to make you his the moment he lays his eyes on you. That was exactly what he was going to do.

For the time being, Eugene and a few of the boys from Easy Company were lazing around in their bunks, and some already sleeping. They were practically waiting for anything. Orders. An attack. Maybe even you returning...

Moments like these passed uneventfully. That was what Eugene always thought. The soft rumbling and muffled sounds of German artillery hitting something didn’t surprise them anymore. 

“Why are you all so quiet?”

A familiar annoying voice rang out through the room and most heads turned towards the culprit. Eugene mildly disliked Cobb, he was annoying sure, but he didn’t really do anything to make Eugene’s blood boil. Others ignored him, seemingly thinking that dealing with Cobb just isn’t worth it.

Cobb had a different plan. As soon as he saw that nobody paid attention and answered his question, he opened his mouth and crossed the line that no man in Easy Company has ever dared to step over.

“Are you guys still thinking about (Y/N)?

The air immediately grew stagnant and sour, and the men of Easy turned to face Cobb, who had a very shit-eating grin on his face. Eugene was one of the men who turned to him, and he glared hard at Cobb. 

“Oh come on, she’s clearly dead.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Cobb.” George snapped at Cobb, who didn’t seem to listen.

 The air was full of tension and every man in the room wanted to throw Cobb into a fucking fire. Eugene then turned away, anger gnawing at his mind. Some of the men were clearly in discomfort, one of them even excusing themselves from the room.

“Just think about it, a girl, like her? She’s clearly gone, I mean she’s been missing for what? A week? Take a look at people who’ve been missin’ for a day. Look where they ended up. They ended up dead.”

“Do you not know when to shut your fucking mouth?”

“Well all of you are really stupid for believing she’s going to come back! She’s fucking dead, get over it. What’s so special about her anyway, huh?”

Liebgott sprung from his seat and walked to stand face to face with Cobb. Eugene begged for Cobb to shut up for once. The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes at Cobb, his lips pursing as he sat tense in his seat.

You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to disappear and to be talked in this way by a man who had the same brain capacity as fucking rock. 

Eugene clenched his fists as he looked down on his lap. It took all of his will to not strangle Cobb right then and there.

Cobb’s pestering voice kept ranging out throughout the room, the men were trying their best to make him stop his bullshit. It was like a buzzing mosquito next to Eugene’s ear, and he wanted it gone.

“(Y/N)’s dead, you fucking idiots. All of Easy Company would be way better without her anywa-”

“Shut up. Shut up!”

Eugene lunged from his chair, the creaking of the wooden air on the cold ground rang throughout the air. But it wasn’t the harsh creaking that made everyone silent. It was the fact that Eugene Roe, the cold medic who kept to himself, snapped. Immediately everyone’s eyes widened as they eyed Eugene.

The Cajun man felt nothing but pure, unfiltered rage as he looked straight into Cobb’s eyes. He couldn’t tell, but Eugene was shaking. His clenched fist raised up in the air to direct itself into Cobb’s jaw.

 A sickening crack was heard as Cobb fell into the floor and Eugene only looked in indifference.

Cobb fell down on the floor as he cried out, the eyes of the men in the room only widened further as they looked to each other for any sort of answer as to what came over Eugene. 

Everyone knew that you and Eugene were close, rumours were even spreading around that you two were dating, which turned out to be true.

They weren’t anticipating Eugene almost knocking out Cobb though. It was bound to happen, anyway. Eugene couldn’t let you get insulted by Cobb, he didn’t stand up for it. The angry red feeling was intense as it coursed through his entire body as he opened his lips to speak again.

“Do you even hear yourself, you selfish bastard? You only care about yourself and you never take into consideration what's going on, do you? If (Y/N) is dead, so what? She’s still a better soldier and person than you are.”

Cobb sat still as Eugene went on his rant, his hand clenching his aching jaw and head. Eugene was seething beyond recognition and everyone just looked in shock.

“-I don’t get it! How come she gets to die while you stay here with us? How come it isn’t you in her place? How come you’re the one here instead of her?”

Harsh words flew from Eugene’s mouth, each syllable was laced in venom and his accent making each word hurt more. Eugene pointed at Cobb repeatedly as he raised his hands. During his anger-filled speech, the photograph he kept with him fell to the ground.

Eugene fell silent as he went up to pick up the picture. It was a photograph of you. You were smiling with not a care in the world. You were wearing your uniform proudly as you showed off your jump wings to the camera. You were beautiful...

But most importantly, you were still there with him. As reality dropped down upon him like a pile of bricks and he hurriedly shoved the faded photograph into his pocket.

 His eyes fell upon a shaken Cobb and his anger was only fueled more. He stood up straighter and his eyebrows furrowed more.

“She deserved it way more than you! (Y/N) didn’t need people talking about her behind her back! (Y/N) didn’t need to be separated from us! So tell me, why on Earth are you not gone, but she is? Give me a good reason!”

Cobb stayed silent as he mumbled angrily under his breath while clutching his jaw, his eyes were narrowed at Eugene who stared back. 

“Get the fuck out.”

Immediately Cobb git back on his feet, his hands grabbing the wall for support before stumbling for the door to outside. Cobb threw one last glare at Eugene before opening the door and heading out of the building.

The slam of the door echoed in the building, and heads turned towards the medic. Eugene stood in his spot, eyes glued to the closed door where Cobb had just left. 

His chest was still rising up and down heavily, and exasperated breaths were pulled from his mouth. George slowly brought up a hand to go onto Eugene’s shoulder, but Eugene pulled away before he could.

“Eugene?”

“I’m going outside…”

His deep voice was menacing, but they held deep amounts of pure and utter despair. The boys decided to let him go as they saw his state. Heavy footsteps were heard as Eugene walked to the door. 

He hesitated for a moment before heading out in the cold, biting air. Eugene gingerly took the photo from his pocket and he held it by his fingertips as he lovingly gazed at your smiling face.

He sat on the debris near the stone building, but it was hidden from sight, giving him time to himself. The medic looked at the photograph with a melancholy expression, another tight smile was brought on his face.

The world was cruel, Eugene knew that, but he never experienced it this hard. The pain from losing a patient or friend in his hands was incomparable to the pain he felt at this moment. The snow fell on the ground, a calm and serene sight. Which was a complete opposite of Eugene.

Soft yet clear sniffles were heard as fresh tears dropped on the snow below. He tried to choke back tears, but they ran down his cold cheeks.

 Eugene brought his hands to wipe them away, but they were quickly replaced. His lip quivered and Eugene attempted to stay as quiet as he could. He stifled more cries and whimpers and he leaned his head back.

That photo taunted him.

Your smiling face in the photograph only brought him temporary relief and happiness, but he needed the real you. Eugene loved you so much. Maybe a litte too much. 

But you would never know the extent of his love… Your fate was unknown, but his hopes were crushed as soon as those dreaded words left Cobb’s lips.

Eugene Roe, the now dazed and distant medic of Easy Company, has finally broken.

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im not crying i swear-

btw sorry this is shorter than my other fics but i hope you liked what i did! im sorry if it didnt come up the way you would have wanted but hopefully you still enjoy it!

but this request got me fucked up and i sort of wanted to torture myself by writing angst-

anyways thank you sweet anon!😭💕💕

[krystalficloverdh]

My hero - Kacchan vs Deku part 2

Chapter 6 

Hello again! Here it is if you want to read more 

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“Do you really think that he’ll come at her first?” Ojiro asked Ochako as he looked up at Izuku. She was standing on a branch in the highest part of a tree, she was looking for the flag and when she found it she jumped.

“Dude, she just declared war moments ago.” Ochako said raising an eyebrow as Izuku lands softly at her side laughing nervously at Ojiro.

“Yeah sorry about that.”

“No worries.” Ojiro waved his hand as they gathered around the blue flag, they placed it in the middle of the river over a little island and they decided that Tokoyami will watch the flag, Mineta will be in charge of traps around the area and the rest will look for the flag.

Izuku gave a sideway glance at the boys that will guard the flag.“Beware of the invisible chick guys.” Izuku said and eyed Mineta. “If you see movement, use those balls and throw them at all directions.” She began to walk but stopped at his confused face. “That way at least one them will stick to her body so you can see her move, you said those things are sticky right?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good grief we have these magical devices so we can communicate with each other.” Ochako said as she touches the earphone in her right ear.

“Yes, this way will be much easier if someone needs help.” Ojiro commented as the others nodded.

“I’m a little worried about Iida-kun, Bakugou seems not very easy to work with.” Ochako sighed out and the rest looked at Izuku.

“Aw come on! Kacchan is...nice?” Izuku said with a nervous laugh.

“He’s only nice to you.” Tokoyami pointed out.

“Yeah! Only you can tame that beast!” Mineta said dumbfounded.

“Beast…?” Izuku muttered to herself in shock. “That’s only a normal Katsuki.” She said to the incredulous gazes. “You haven’t seen him mad..at all.” She smirked at the last part.

The sound of a horn is heard to indicate that they can start, Izuku smiled and nodded at her team.“Let’s go, the flag it’s straight ahead.” She said as she points in the flag’s direction.

The three teens walked in the silent forest for a few minutes but no sign of the other team, Izuku was walking in the middle, Ochako on her right and Ojiro on her left.

“It’s too quiet.” Ochako whispered to her comrades as they walked in the forest

“Yeah very.” Ojiro whispered back.

“Deku.” A glance of Katsuki appeared in the corner of Izuku’s eyes, he stretched his neck and lunged forward.

“Shit! LOOK OUT!” She dove back as she used a wave of energy to push away her comrades as well from the explosion he sent at the three or more like at Izuku.

“That came out of nowhere so quietly...!” Ochako got on her feet with Ojiro, they glanced at the dissipating smoke and found out a shaking Katsuki with his fists on a crater he created with his magic looking directly at Izuku, who was already on her feet.

“THE SHIT?! Don’t dodge my attacks!” Katsuki growled at Izuku.

“You really…” Izuku raised an eyebrow and whispered behind her. “When there is an opening, run for the flag.”

Katsuki immediately launched himself at her, he winded his right arm for an explosive punch, Izuku dodges the blow by bending down and with her open palms she pushed against his chest and a wave of energy sends him backwards slamming into the ground, a gust of wind came out of his lungs because of the impact.

“You always lead with a right hook, I’m quite a good observant you know?” She said as she winked at him while Katsuki was getting up from the ground with a murderous look on his eyes. “Now I really have your attention…” She muttered at herself. “NOW! GO!”

Ojiro and Ochako ran towards the flag as Izuku watched them from the corner of her eyes for a second, the moment she looked at them Katsuki lunged at Izuku with a strong explosion. Katsuki managed to pin her down on the ground, the impact made her cough because of the dirt.

“OI OI OI YOU HAVE SOME FUCKING NERVE TO LOOK AWAY! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO LOOK ONLY AT ME! ” Katsuki bared his canines to snarl at her as he straddled her hips with his own and she hitched a breath as she looked at his crimson eyes.

“KYA!” A loud cry was heard from above in the tower and everybody looked at the source of the sound to find a shocked All Might gripping his face, the hero quickly cleared his voice and pretended nothing happened.

Izuku snapped from her trance as she hit with her forehead at Katsuki and with some little magic to get him off her. She got on her feet and they lunged at each other, the impact of their magic created a big explosion causing the trees around them to fall down, the other students at the tower looked down in shock at the scene, Izuku had an exposed shoulder and Katsuki removed what was left of his cloak.

“Bakugou and Izuku-chan are beasts!” Mina exclaimed in awed at the same time All Might was nervously looking at the damage.

“Why won’t you use your sword?...Deku.” Katsuki’s voice was low and Izuku tensed up as he looked at her in the eyes. “ARE YOU LOOKING DOWN ON ME?! DIDN’T YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE IT YOUR OWN?!”

Izuku widened her eyes in shock as she saw the hidden pained look in his eyes. “That’s not…!” She shouted at him as she clenched her fists.

“THEN USE IT DAMMIT!”

Izuku’s face turned serious as she unleashed One For All from her back, she glowed bright green and red lightning braced her skin. She touched her device with a shaking hand as she looked at Katsuki. “Ochako prepare yourselves, here comes a big one.”

“You got it!” Her friend speaked through the earphone.

The pair crunched on their knees and lunged at each other, they created a second and more powerful wave causing the rest of the trees and the other teammates to fly away from the impact. As the wave continued, the red flag from Katsuki’s team could be seen, there were no trees to hide it anymore and the rest of Katsuki’s team were blown away with the rest of the trees. Izuku gritted her teeth in pain while she used her telekinesis to keep her teammates on the ground and guide them towards the flag, her head was getting dizzy.

Ochako held hands with Ojiro and grabbed the flag. “I HAVE IT!”

“BLUE TEAM WIIINS!” All Might’s voice rang loudly.

“Haaah that was too much…” Izuku signed as she lets go of One For All and looked at her injured arm, that looked pretty nasty. She felt the strength of her legs to loosen up as she swayed backwards. She gave a pained smile at Katsuki whose face was shocked as she started to fall backwards, Katsuki captured her before she could hit the floor and looked down at her.

“You...read me like a book...seriously…you need to stop breaking your fucking arm.” His voice was strangled as he saw her arm.

“But I won didn’t I?” She gave him a cheeky grin and Katsuki gave her an intense glare as he touched his forehead with his, her grin completely gone.

“Listen here Deku, today you beat me but remember I’m going to be number one.” His voice was an octave lower. “You fucking hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” Izuku smirked at the challenge but hissed at the end because of her arm.

“Man that was some heated battle!” Denki ran up to them and grinned down at them.

“Izuku-chan your wounds.” Ochako stepped up to them. “We already told Recovery Girl, she’s there.” She pointed at a little tent over the tower as Katsuki lifted Izuku in his arms and walked towards the improvised infirmary.

“Young heroes it’s time for your critique.” All Might came from behind them with a strained smile and tried to carry Izuku himself but Katsuki hissed at him and walked faster, the legendary hero shaked his head at the gesture and walked towards the tower.

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The class cheered as they heard about UA’s festival coming up in two weeks, Aizawa was explaining the details, they were going to spar between classes, have a ball and a lot of people from all over the world will be visiting to the festival. Izuku was beaming excitedly at the opportunity, what a way to challenge to get stronger.

“Man I can’t wait to get new potions!” Ochako called out as the class ended, when the festival starts people gather in the streets to sell the most strange potions in the decorated streets. “I want one for my dizziness, whenever I use a lot of magic, I get dizzy easily.”

“I have to buy some armor, I have to practice with its weight.” Izuku said.

“I need some upgrades for my armor as well.” Iida commented as the group walked on the streets.

“Then let’s go to Mei Hatsume’s store then! I heard that she’s great and works for UA.” Ochako suggested at them and they titled their heads. “Whatever you need she’s your woman.”

The group reached an armoury and potions store, they stepped in and encountered a girl with big yellow eyes and pink hair.

“HELLO AND WELCOME TO MY DOMAIN!” The girl beamed. “My name is Mei Hatsumei what can I do for you?” She said as she crossed her arms over the counter.

Izuku looked around and noted that she was left alone, Iida and Ochako were already looking for their stuff. “I’m a swordswoman, I need something to protect my arms.”

Mei smirked and guided her into the store. “You need some bracers and for your shoulders as well.” She took out blackened steel bracers along with shoulder armor and placed them over Izuku. “HOW ABOUT THESE BABIES!”

Izuku moved her arms and grinned. “Looking good, I tend to levitate a lot and land quite hard and these boots are worned out.” She moved her boots to prove her point.

“OOOH I HAVE A FEELING THAT YOU AND I ARE GONNA GET ALONG SO WELL!” Mei jumped in excitement and took out some red boots with a hardened black soles. “Try them, these are my new special design of mine.”

“They’re perfect, Can’t wait to try these! You’re awesome Hatsume!”

“HELL YEAH I AM! AND CALL ME MEI!” She clapped Izuku’s back.

Izuku smiled and looked around to find Ochako staring at some potions with a very serious face. “Seeing something you like?” She asked and her friend turned to face her.

“You look so awesome Izuku-chan!” Ochako beamed happily.

“What are you looking at?”

“I’m thinking about the anti-dizziness potion and the healing potion.” Ochako pointed the potions and Hatsume popped behind them.

“YES! YOU HAVE A GOOD EYE!” Hatsume shouted and extended one arm towards wall full of potions. “I have to breath under the water, to make you invisible but time is limited and these are my newest babies.” She showed the bottle to the girls.

“Birth control.” Izuku read out loud the label attached to it and when she processed what she just told she turned bright red. “WHAT?!”

“Wow! You actually have one of these.” Ochako whispered as she grabbed the bottle.

“Just helping some sisters out.” Hatsume lopped an arm around Izuku’s shoulders and gave a sly smile. “You know hormones.”

“So...you drink it and that’s it?” Izuku snapped her fingers. “Hocus Pocus no baby on the way?”

“Pretty handy, huh?” Hatsume wiggled her eyebrows. “These get selled pretty well, always use protection!” She gave her thumbs up at the two.

Izuku scratched the back of the neck looking at the bottle. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that anytime soon.”

“You sure?” Ochako teased her and Izuku choked as her explosive friend came to her mind. “Ooooh you were soooo thinking about him didn’t you?”

“OH JUICY STUFF!” Hatsume smirked at Izuku. “I have these anytime you need them, I’m your woman.” She whispered as she pointed with her thumb at herself.

“Have you decided what to buy?” Iida’s voice rang behind the girls.

“Thank you Iida!” Izuku thanked internally her friend.

Iida looked at her armor and nodded in agreement. “A true swordswoman.” Iida gave her the thumbs up and she smiled in return.

The group paid their upgrades and Hatsume waved at them as they got out of her store to blend on the streets.

“COME AGAIN IF YOU NEED MORE OF MY BABIES ANYTIME !” Hatsume yelled and winked at Izuku at the last part.

“She was so full of energy.” Iida called out completely clueless.

“She was a bit intense I admit but I like it, she seems nice.” Izuku replied.

“Yeah...She has some good stuff .” Ochako said and Izuku tensed up at the last words.

After watching some stores they decided to go back to the guild, the group walked in the hallways watching all kinds of people practicing their magic.

“MIDORIYAAAA IS...HERE!” All Might slid in front of them out of nowhere and the teens jumped back in surprise,

“ALL MIGHT!” Izuku gasped and the hero gave a wide grin and showed a box.

“Would you care to share lunch with me?”

“Like a maiden!” Ochako whispered to Iida.

Izuku waved at her friends as she followed All Might to a private room for teachers and he pair took seats around a small table and began to eat. The hero signed as he turned in his skeletal form as he poured some tea and Izuku arranged their lunch.

“Fifteen minutes?! For real?!” Izuku asked in shock and stood quickly.

“That’s all I can manage at the moment...Thirty if I stretch it.” All Might said as he clenched his right fist.

“I...I’m so sorry!.” She bowed to him and All Might ruffled her hair at her sad tone.

“Worry not young Midoriya, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” He chuckled. “You are the last one to apologize! You’re doing a great job!” He grinned warmly at her.

Izuku returned the smile and told the skeletal man all her progress, how she was able to use it more without breaking any bones, her newest armor and boots, the hero was nodding proudly all the time.

As time went by, All Might’s expression turned gloomy and sad. “To be honest...I don’t much time left until I use the last bit of One For All’s magic.”

“You…?” The smile on Izuku’s face disappeared instantly.

“There are villains biding time out there.” He looked at the window. “People are starting to notice and you saw it at the USJ incident.”

“They know.” She said in a low voice and he nodded.

“That’s why I gave you this power, because I expect you to inherit my self. The upcoming festival is a wonderful way to show the world that...The All Might of the new generation and as my sucesor.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “You, Midoriya my girl! Have arrived! I want you to be known to the world!”

When the meeting ended Izuku wandered over the guild’s grounds, she was excited and scared at the same time. At the end of the day she returned to the dorms common room and spotted Katsuki resting in the couches talking with Kirishima.

“Hi guys.” She smiled at the two.

“Izuku-chan SO MANLY!” Kirishima crossed his arms and winked at her.

“Thanks.” Izuku laughed as Katsuki kicked annoyed at Kirishima’s ass.

“Ow ow!” The red head rubbed his butt and gave a glance at his friend.”I get it...You want some Izuku time.” He whispered to Katsuki and looked at Izuku. “Man look at the hour! Mina is waiting for me! Bye bye.” He ran towards the girls dorms.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to go there...and he’s gone.” Izuku noted and seated next to Katsuki.

He looked at her head to toe and smirked when something red catches his eye.“Only you would buy those ugly ass shoes.” Katsuki teased her.

“What? Excuse you! They’re the coolest!”

Previous chapter    Next chapter 

[hopeisour4letteredword]

innocent bones ch1

Summary: Apollo gets a wake-up call in a few ways. It’s okay, though--he’s got best-friend backup.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

Apollo’s first thought when his phone rings at some ungodly time in the middle of the night is fuck off. His second thought is oh my God oh no Clay, because he’s had a shit year and maybe it’s made him a bit paranoid and he’s Clay’s emergency medical contact. His third thought, as he toes the line of lucidity, is wait, that’s the ringtone I set for Klavier.

Fuck. If Klavier is calling him at this hour, it’s probably important.

He slaps haphazardly at his nightstand until he finds his phone and yanks it off the charger. He gives himself one last moment to squeeze his eyes shut against the ache of fatigue, then rallies enough to answer the call.

“Justice speaking.“

“...Hurts.”

Suddenly much more awake, Apollo sits bolt upright in bed. “What?”

“Herr Forehead,” Klavier says, in the most childish and petulant voice Apollo has ever heard out of him. To be fair, Apollo hasn’t heard him overtly childish all that many times, so that’s a low hurdle. It’s not much comfort. “Feel—feel sorry for me. I’m in pain.”

“You—what? Are you alright?”

“No.”

Apollo stares unseeingly into the darkness for a second until adrenaline overrides panic and he launches himself out of bed. He almost trips trying to keep his phone to his ear and disentangle the sheets around his legs at the same time. Light, where’s the light switch on his lamp? “Where are you? How bad is it?”

“It sucks,” Klavier whines. “An’ I’m all alone.”

“I’m coming to help. You’re gonna be fine. Are you—you sound really out of it. Did you hit your head? Are you drunk?”

Blood loss? he doesn’t ask. Don’t think about the worst-case scenario. Keep moving. He finds his keys and his wallet, tosses them over by his shoes near the door. No telling if he’ll need his bike or his bus card until he has more information.

“Drugs,” Klavier says, glumly. Apollo grits his teeth. Klavier is one of the most law-abiding people Apollo has ever met; there’s no way he took hardcore drugs of his own volition. Please don’t let it be roofies. Please don’t let him be stranded, injured and alone, in a place where somebody roofied him.

Clothes, clothes, Apollo needs to not get arrested for indecency the second he steps out the door. He yanks on the first pair of shorts he encounters. Shirt? He shoves a hand into his dresser blindly. It comes out clutching one of Clay’s old Sailor Moon shirts, faded and worn. Apollo wears it as a pajama shirt sometimes, but in public—fuck it. Klavier’s safety is worth the weird looks for being a grown man wearing a magical girl anime shirt in public. He’s not gonna dig around for an acceptable shirt at a time like this.

“Keep talking to me. What hurts?”

“My mouth.”

“Your mouth? What happened, do you remember?”

“They stole my teeth,” Klavier says, woefully, and that finally makes Apollo pause, balanced on one foot to pull a sock on the other.

“Your—your teeth?”

“Took ‘em—took ‘em right out. With knives. Now my mouth’s full of holes. It hurts, Herr Forehead.”

An image is cementing itself, slowly but surely, out of the fog of panic and lethargy in Apollo’s mind. He lowers his foot. “Who took your teeth?”

“Teeth doctor.”

“Did...did you get teeth taken out? By a dentist or—?”

“Yeah! Wis’om teeth. They stole them.”

Apollo slumps back against his door like a puppet with his strings cut, and sinks to the ground. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Oh my God, Klavier. Start with that next time.”

“Next time?” Klavier sounds genuinely befuddled. “But they’re already gone.”

“I thought you had been roofied or mugged or something,” Apollo says. He settles on laughter, and it comes out hysterical. “God. Don’t do that to me. I’m too young to have a heart attack.”

“Don’t do what? What’d I do?”

“You scared the shit out of me.” Apollo draws his knees up to his chest and leans on them, trying to take deep breaths. Klavier is okay. He’s not bleeding in an alleyway behind some bar. He’s not about to be assaulted. He’s only stoned on painkillers. “You owe me for this one. I was halfway out the door.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” There’s a rustling noise on the other end of the line. Klavier’s voice is soft and contrite. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s fine,” Apollo says. “We’re fine. I’m not mad. Well, maybe a little bit. Just—goddamn. Okay. Talking. I can talk. Wait. You’re home, aren’t you? You’re not wandering the city like this?”

He’s hyperaware of his own heartbeat, still too loud and too fast. That was a hell of a wake-up call. Apollo has more than enough trouble getting to sleep on a normal night. There’s no way he’s knocking out any time soon after this—might as well keep Klavier entertained if he’s going to be awake the rest of the night anyway.

“Yeah!” Klavier says, perking up again. “I’m home. Oh, but—Vongole is gone.”

“Gone?” Apollo frowns. “Where’d she go?”

“Sebastian took her.”

“What for?”

“He said I prob’ly shouldn’t walk her tonight,” Klavier says, despondently. “I miss her. She’s a good dog.”

“She is a good dog,” Apollo agrees. He scratches a hand through his bedhead and tries not to yawn. “But you’ll get to see her again soon. I’m sure Prosecutor Debeste will give her back tomorrow.”

“But I want her now.”

Apollo doesn’t have a rebuttal to that. God only knows how many times he sprawled next to Vongole on the floor while Mr. Gavin was out of the office, complaining about the trials of law school. She’s a good listener. Always knows when someone needs a hug. She’d make a good therapy dog if she didn’t have so much energy. It’s no wonder Klavier wants her back when he’s this miserable.

“Sorry, man.”

Klavier sighs melodramatically. “Can’t believe he left me and took my dog. I think he likes her better than me.”

“Can you blame him?” Apollo says, wryly. He realizes his mistake right as Klavier makes a quiet, wounded noise.

“...No.”

“Joke,” Apollo blurts out. Fuck. Of course Klavier is too out of it for their normal banter. “I’m joking. That was a joke. I didn’t mean—“

“It’s okay, Herr F—“

“Of course he doesn’t like your dog better than you. Don’t be stupid. That was a really shitty joke for me to make, and I didn’t mean it at all.”

Klavier laughs, weakly. “Right, sure.”

“You’re—ridiculously likeable.” It spills out of Apollo’s mouth before he can stop himself. But why should he stop himself? It’s the middle of the night and Klavier’s fucked up on painkillers and Apollo was an asshole. He can part with some kind words to make up for it. It’s the right thing to do, probably. God, he’s tired. “And a good person. Everybody likes you just fine.”

After a few beats of silence save for the shudder of Klavier’s breath across the line, Klavier asks, half-joking, “Even you?”

Apollo rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking to you at three AM while you’re high as a kite on anesthetics because I hate you.” Another beat. “That was another joke. Just to be extremely clear.”

“You like me?” Klavier asks, so damn hopefully that Apollo doesn’t have it in him to pretend otherwise.

“Yeah.”

“I like you, too,” Klavier says, happily. Apollo’s heart thumps traitorously hard against his ribcage. He’s too exhausted to deal with his own pining right now. It’s not fair that Klavier can do this to him out of nowhere. He’s not even trying to flirt right now. He’s just a naturally affectionate person and it’s destroying Apollo. “I wish you were here. I wish Vongole or Sebastian was here. I’m bored and lonely and my mouth hurts.”

“I know, bud.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Sleep?” Apollo suggests. Klavier makes a dismissive sound. “Uh. Watch something on Netflix? Or whatever rock stars watch their movies and shit on these days.”

“I start falling asleep when I try to watch anything and then I have nightmares ‘cause my mouth hurts.”

That sounds like it will be a problem no matter what Klavier does to occupy himself. “Do you have more painkillers?”

“I... forgot where I put them. And how many to take.”

“Find them and read the bottle, then.”

“Print’s too small.”

“...Are you so drugged up you can’t focus on text?”

“No, but they made me take my contacts out before they stole my teeth, and—“

Klavier wears contacts? Apollo opens his mouth to ask about it, but there’s an abrupt series of loud noises on the other end of the call. Loud, brief knocking, the thud of a door closing, the jingle of metal on metal.

“Sebastian!” Klavier cheers. Apollo hears a distant curse and thumping. “You came back!”

A voice, muffled and indistinct. The intonation lilts into a question.

“Herr Forehead,” Klavier answers, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, good grief. Give that here.”

“No, don’t—!“

“Hello?” Prosecutor Debeste says, his voice clear and focused now. It has the polite edge of professionality. “Mr. Justice, I presume?”

“That’s right,” Apollo says. He feels kind of weird about talking to somebody from the Prosecutor’s Office who isn’t Klavier while he’s on the floor, hair a bird’s nest, wearing a Sailor Moon shirt and one sock. Yeah, Prosecutor Debeste can’t see that or anything, but it’s the principle of the matter. “Hi. Um.”

“Sorry about the trouble. I hope he hasn’t kept you up too long.”

“Uh, no.”

“Sebastian,” Klavier wails, in the background. “Give it baaack!”

“Are you staying with him right now?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just. To be honest, he made it sound like you stole his dog and ditched him.”

“Of course he did,” Prosecutor Debeste says, exasperatedly. Klavier whines, barely audible to the receiver. Vongole barks happily in response. “I’ve been here all night. I only took Vongole out for a bit to do her business and run around—she hasn’t been able to sleep either, not with Klavier this wound up. Don’t worry, he has someone keeping an eye on him.”

“That’s, um. Good to hear.”

“I can take care of things from here, so I’ll let you get some rest. Klavier can get in touch with you again in the morning if you need anything from him.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Justice. Thanks for keeping him company for a while. Klavier, say good night—“

“But we were talking—!“

The line goes dead.

Apollo takes his phone away from his ear and just looks at it. He thinks maybe he should process the last thirty minutes. His mind chases itself in loops instead. After a minute, he presses the heel of his free hand against his eyes, trying to massage out the exhaustion headache that’s starting to set in. Fuck. He still doesn’t know if he can sleep. What’s Clay always trying to tell him, about resting and keeping your eyes closed for a while being better than not sleeping at all? Can’t be any worse, at least. He might as well give it a shot. He settles back into the sheets, long cold by now, and tries to relax.

A street—not dark, but dim, maybe, with the hazy glow of a setting sun in the evening. The shadows are long and the light is golden. It catches on the leaves of trees in the park, turns them ethereal with shining halos.

I’ve been here before, Apollo thinks, then, that’s absurd, it’s the park, of course I’ve been here before.

Another golden halo, beside him on the park bench. Klavier’s hair catching the sunlight it so often seems to be spun from. Klavier’s blinding smile as he laughs at something Apollo just said, something already forgotten. Déjà vu strikes Apollo again. He does remember being here, remembers the way Klavier turns to him with a conversational parry, smirking, words balancing perfectly on the bizarre line they walk between sharp and friendly.

That’s what he remembers. That’s not what happens this time. What happens this time is:

Klavier’s smile goes soft and warm, an affectionate curl of his lips, and he says, “I like you, too.”

[maculategiraffe]

OK, darlings, bear with me.  I'm almost ready to post the new chapter of Refreshment, but first I gotta get this Hill House thing off my chest.

This post will not contain specific plot spoilers, but it will discuss-- arcs, and themes.  So if you haven't watched it yet and are already planning to and don't want any more information before watching it than "so far it's my favorite thing in awhile" and "it's so goddamn good, I cast myself down and wept," then maybe avoid this one until after you've watched it.  (Or skip it altogether!  I'm gonna get long-winded here, I can feel it.)

If, on the other hand, you aren't sure yet whether you want to watch it, and you want to know more about what the viewing experience might be like and why I found it to be so good, then this would be a good thing for you to read before watching it, maybe, to help you make up your mind whether it's for you.

Or if you've already watched it, then just, here's why I loved it.

One:  It's not an adaptation; it's a lovingly transformative fan work.

You know how gleeful we all got about the fact that The Shape of Water was literally Guillermo del Toro's Cold War AU Creature/Kay fix-it fic of The Creature from the Black Lagoon?   Because fuck yeah, beautifully shot high-budget fanwork that develops and builds upon themes and possibilities latent in the original work and wins Oscars in its own right?

I really love the book The Haunting of Hill House, and I'm predisposed to hate adaptations of things I really love, because they always fucking get things wrong.  I've become a bit more open-minded about this as I've aged-- I will now grudgingly watch a Jane Eyre adaptation with a blue-eyed Rochester (although I still get so Goddamn Pissy about how Goddamn Pretty everybody always is in a Jane Eyre movie adaptation when both the romantic leads are canonically Changeling-Looking Motherfuckers, and that's, like, IMPORTANT, okay)-- but mostly adaptations seem to me to have missed an important point about the original.  At LEAST one!  Do you know what I mean?  Like in the movie of The End of the Affair where they made it so the guy she was secretly meeting with was a priest, and like... the whole POINT was--!  Or like remember how mad certain people got about Tom Bombadil being left out of LotR, and how much they (we) wanted to explain to you (anyone who was like "meh, fair enough, he didn't have much to do with anything anyway") that the whole POINT of Tom Bombadil was--!

 Anyway sorry the point is, that this isn't an adaptation.  It isn't The Movie Of The Book, or The Show Of The Book, which always gets things wrong.  (Except the movie of The Princess Bride, which in my view was essentially the second, improved draft of the novel.) 

It's a fanwork, about the book, and, like all great fanworks, it gets the book-- in some ways, yeah, I'll say it-- righter than the book itself did.  Because it loves the book, and it takes things that are peeping out at the corners and between the lines of the book, or merely glanced at by the text and hurried past, maybe for pacing purposes, or that you thought about when you were reading the book for the seventh time, and it develops those, and interacts with them, and brings them out into new contexts, and-- just, altogether, instead of being like watching an adaptation of a thing you loved, it's like reading a fantastic fanfic series of a thing that you loved.  Instead of watching it butchered, you get to watch it, skillfully and thoughtfully and thoroughly, loved, and in a way that you wouldn't have known how to by yourself.

Two:  It's scary like wasabi is hot.

I love wasabi, because, like many very strange humans whose behavior is a puzzlement and a dismay to rational plants everywhere, I like eating something that makes me feel like my head is going to explode, but unlike some of those strange humans, I don't like the pain to linger.   I avoid super-hot chilis, because I don't like a burnt-mouth feeling.  I like wasabi because while I'm eating it it makes tears stream down my face, but then once it's gone, it's gone.  Well, I like my stories like I like my wasabi-- super intense while they last, but with a discrete ending to the pain.  I love wallowing in exquisitely painful hurt/comfort depictions of a character's anguish and terror and desolation, because I know the comfort part is coming.  If it doesn’t, I feel kind of hurt and burnt.

 Well, I like my horror the same way.  I like things that scare the living starlight out of me while they're happening, but that wrap up in a way that leaves me not-scared for later.  My previous best example of this was probably The Others (remember The Others?  Nicole Kidman?  2001?  I never hear about that movie any more, I feel like it's really underrated.  I saw it in the theater and there was one moment when everyone in the theater collectively stopped breathing and then everyone let out this crazy collective shaky what-was-that laugh), but I also feel that way about The Babadook, and Alien, and-- I could probably list other examples, but you get the point.   I like Cabin in the Woods, but it (and others like it) work by defusing the horror while stuff is happening, which is different from movies that commit wholeheartedly to scaring you while they're happening but after you're done watching them don't leave you scared to go to sleep in case the Thing is under the bed or peering out of the mirror.  You know?  

Hill House ends that way, but-- disclaimer-- it's a 10-episode series, and if you stop watching at any point before the last episode, like I did, you might be creeped out and have to sleep with the light on, like I did.  (After, specifically, episode 5.  I already loved it but it had spooked me out badly.)  It is genuinely terrifying while it's happening, but it gets-- steadily, artfully, beautifully-- less scary as it goes along.  But not by becoming less intense.  The ratio of emotional intensity to spooky business steadily increases, until at the very end, you are far too busy sobbing your soul out onto your sweater to be scared.

which brings me to my next item:

Three: It's a deep, and deeply cathartic, exploration of how grief and trauma work.

Do you know the quote-- I think I've reblogged it here a couple of times, lemme just, here:

My therapist says I can’t

make the monsters disappear

no matter how much I pay her.

All she can do is bring them

into the room, so I can get

to know them, so I can learn

their names, so I can see clearly

their toothless mouths,

their empty hands,

their pleading eyes.

 So that's what it's about.  

It's not about how there was never anything to be afraid of at all.  It's not about how the monsters can't hurt you unless you believe in them.  That's part of what the show looks at, is denial, how corrosive it can be, and in what ways, to deny the reality of what happened to you and how much it hurt you and how it changed you, and how important the things were that you lost, and how different you are because of what's happened to you, and what's still happening.  And yet how understandable it is, to try to close your eyes to it, try to white-knuckle it away, fix it yourself, close the door on it, build a wall to block it out, make yourself blind to everything so you don't have to see the one unbearable thing.  

It's not about how the monsters can't really, or won't really, or didn't really, hurt you. 

It's about learning to understand how they can, and how they did, and how they do, and what they are, and that's the beginning of learning how you're going to live now.  And that you are.  And that-- and how-- it's going to be beautiful.

Four:  It's about love.

The ways love is messy.  The ways love makes mistakes.  The ways love fails.  The ways love oversteps.  The ways love overwhelms.  The ways love, when accompanied by fear or bad judgement or incomplete information or the other ways we all stumble so helplessly through life, can even lead us to hurt and harm people.  Beloved people.  Or be horribly hurt by them.  The ways love is not, in and of itself, a safeguard against doing the absolutely, catastrophically, unbearably, unfixably wrong thing.

And the ways love lights our path.  The ways love brings us back.  The ways love makes life, no matter how much it hurts, worth living.  The ways we can't do without it, nothing means anything without it, no matter how much it hurts-- and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts-- but that's what it is to be alive at all.  To be able to feel, and feel deeply.  To rejoice, and despair, and panic, and regret, and hope, and grieve, and breathe, and love.  And love.

That’s what it’s about.

[sheppardsmckay]

The Sun Will Shine Again

Warnings: Strong Violence, Torture, Mentions of Torture, Major Characters Death

Summary: Loki faces his biggest challenge yet as he is forced to decide between death and his brother in a story with two endings

Word Count: 9.4k+

A/N: This is my first posted fanfic so I’m pretty nervous. I started writing on this since I saw Infinity War (April 27) so this has been a definite work in progress but it is my baby. This is also a story with two endings, one good one not-so-much. Apologies for the length. Critiques are welcome.

….on his burning funeral ship while the Gods weep on the strand - The Death of Baldur,  Norse Mythology

And perhaps (because gods are not as others, and death is not always permanent for them) for a god’s eventual return. -  Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology

“If you were here, I might even hug you,” Thor said, tossing the mirror at his brother.

Loki snatched it out of the air with a smile. “I’m here.”

A look of surprise mingling with joy came over Thor’s face. He walked over to his brother and, for the first time in what seemed eons, he wrapped his arms around him.

Not to stop him from doing something wrong or to try and reason with his madness, but just to hold onto him. A hug among brothers born and fashioned from anger, pain, and revenge. They had suffered much, done much to each other, but there was still love there and a redemption to be found in it.

Loki hugged him back, which shocked Thor. It was even more a surprise when Loki buried his face in his older brother’s shoulder. They remained there for a time. Worlds upon worlds of sorrow and grief passed from one brother to the next before whispering away into the darkness.

Thor tightened his hold on his brother he believed twice lost. And it was then that the god promised to protect Loki and keep him safe. Even if, and most likely when, he made a mistake, Loki would not be cast out or abandoned again.

For deep down he knew all he wanted, all they both ever wanted, was to belong.

Thor pulled away, grasping his brother’s arms.

“You know,” Loki said, “for trying to sell you out in Sakaar—”

“Bygones, brother.” He patted his arm and released him. “All is forgiven. You saved our people.”

“Your people,” Loki was always quick to remind.

“Even though you were not born of Asgard, still you are Asgardian. And my brother.” He beamed.

Loki bowed his head in a nod, a smile crinkling his face. Thor patted his shoulder again before walking out of the room. The god of mischief stared at the mirror for a moment, his face caught in its reflection. He looked so much older, and yet better somehow. Not worn and scarred, but happy in a way...content. He bounced the disc in his hands a time or two and followed his brother.

He watched Thor walk through the crowd, bowing to him as he passed. A chair was presented to him, a poor throne, but it looked far more royal with his brother sitting in it. Thor was born to be king, they both were, but Loki knew he would never rule. There seemed, for the first time, no resentment of that fact. Maybe they weren’t just two sons of the crown set adrift, maybe they were something more. At the very least, Thor could be.

Loki walked up the stairs to stand beside him. He nearly cringed outwardly as he moved past the looming figure of the Hulk, but since he wasn't immediately thrown into the nearest floor, maybe they had resolved things? Or reached some sort of impasse for the Revengers sake?

Nevertheless, he didn’t look his way, keeping his eyes fixed upon his brother.

“So,” Heimdall spoke, standing on the opposite side of Loki, “king of Asgard.”

Thor turned in his seat. He smiled and waved at his people, before turning back to the darkness of space looming out the window.

“Where to?” Heimdall asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thor said. “Any suggestions?” he asked to either side of him, although he seemed to pause for a moment longer to look at Loki.

Loki looked back in surprise. Did he truly want his opinion? Did someone really care what he thought for once?

“Meek,” Thor asked of the tiny creature beneath Korg’s arm. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, Meek’s dead,” Korg replied, pointing at the thing.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, no I accidentally stomped on him on the bridge. I’ve just felt-felt so guilty I’ve been carrying him around all day.” As if in cue, the creature sprang back to life (or far more reasonably, just woke up) with a growl. “Oh, Meek you’re alive!” Korg exclaimed, “He’s alive guys! What was your question again, bro?”

Thor sighed. He looked back at the window. “Earth it is.”

Loki wondered how the mortals would react to his presence. Then again, they had all but ignored him the last time he was there. Thor looked out proudly at the darkness of space as if he could conquer it all to save his people. He truly was a far better kingly figure than Odin could ever be.

Loki was proud, not of himself or his deeds but of his brother. And, for the first time, he was only that. No envy blossomed in his chest, nor bitterness or anger swelled in his heart. Only pride and love remained in the once most hollow and empty parts of him.

Soon after, the people dispersed to different parts of the ship and Thor stood alone watching space. Loki stared at him for a moment before walking closer. He would face the abyss with him whatever devils it held and fight them together.

“I’m surprised you returned,” Thor said, without looking at him. “Thought you were staying on Sakaar and it was best we never speak again.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure the Grandmaster would welcome me back after all.” He glanced at Thor, then back at the window. “Besides, I think I do want to have that talk you wanted. I’m curious what you had to say.”

Thor smiled at him for a moment. “I am sorry about all this.”

Loki furrowed his brow.

“I mean you wanted to be king but you’re not and now Asgard is gone...and who knows about Jotunheim.”

Asgard was gone. It was a terrible thought, one Loki never believed could happen. And yet it had, it had ended with fire and destruction. There was no whimpering when their world ended.

But their people still lived and that really was all that mattered.

“It’s alright.” Loki replied. “When I said, all those years ago, that I was looking forward to this moment, I wasn’t lying.”

“Even though you stopped it from happening with the Jotunheim assault?” Thor half-teased.

“I was envious. But I told you to never doubt my love. So I did what I did but it didn’t mean I didn’t want you to never rule. Just until you learned not to be an idiot.” He said making Thor chuckle. “Besides, I did offer you the throne. Not my fault you turned it down.”

“So that was you and not father?”

Loki shrugged.

Thor sighed. “I appreciate your words, brother. Thank you. I wish we weren’t always on opposite sides.”

“We aren’t now,” Loki enunciated each word.

“No we aren’t.” He grinned,  clasping his brother’s shoulder. “I am glad you’re here. Somehow, space doesn’t seem as lonely now.”

“No,” Loki said as Thor dropped his hand.

“Do you still wish for it?” Thor asked.

“What?”

“To be king.”

“I always wanted...to be your equal. I meant it. I never did want the throne, not truly. But I’m not sure being equals is possible. Seems like a waste of time to hope for it.” he glanced at his brother. “I’ve accepted that. If I could be your brother, though, and by your side, I’d be happy enough with that.”

Thor smiled once more. “Of course.” He bowed his head ever slightly. “I accept. Besides, you were always my equal, even though you never saw it.”

Loki pursed his lips, swallowing back the odd lump in his throat. He cleared it. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?”

“Of course,” Thor grinned. “Everybody loves me. I’m very popular.”

“Let me rephrase that. Do you think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor paused. “Probably not to be honest.”

Loki breathed a laugh as Thor smiled. Of course, Thor was right. He would never be wanted anywhere. Did he expect that to change? Was he even wanted here really? Or would his next mistake send him into the void again? Did Thor really want him there?

As if on cue from a stage, Thor grinned alleviating his every fear. “I wouldn’t worry, brother. I have a feeling that everything’s going to work out.”

Loki sighed. An air of contentment, as much as he could find at that moment, filled him, a quiet peace at long last.

Until the unthinkable happened.

A ship appeared out of nowhere, hovering in front of theirs. Loki recognized it, the familiarity of it plunging an ice-cold knife into his heart.

Thanos.

After all this time Thanos had found him. Fear locked chains around Loki’s body. His eyes filled with memories of his words and his warning.

Make you wish for something as sweet as pain. Loki took a step back. “We need to leave now. Right now!”

Thor turned to his brother, opening his mouth to ask what happened.

“Sir.” A soldier ran up to them.

“What?”

“Our ship. It’s being pulled in towards that one.” He pointed out the window towards Thanos’ ship.

“Then get the escape pods and tell everyone to evacuate!” Loki demanded.

“But there’s not enough for everyone!”

“So?”

“How many can fit?” Thor interjected.

The man blinked at Loki and the  incredulity of his words. “A little over half, sir.”

Without warning, the ship rocked with a blast.

“Then get the women and children on board first and then as many men as see fit to go.”

The man nodded, before rushing off.

Loki began to silently sneak away.

“Loki!” Thor called, pausing Loki in his steps.“Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay here,” He said simply.

“Why not?”

“It’s Thanos. That ship,” he pointed, “belongs to him.”

Recognition dawned on Thor’s face. “Why would he come here?”

Loki froze. The Tesseract. He had stolen it from the vaults before bringing Surtur back to life. He had it on him, hidden. Thanos must have sensed it, somehow, must have known….

But how could Loki tell Thor that? How could he betray him once more?

What if he left and hid the thing far from the Asgardians or Thor? He would be safe. He could save everyone. And yet the warnings still rang in his ears like so many hideous bells.

“He’s after me,” Loki decided to say, still being honest in his way. “He-he warned me.”

“Warned you? Warned you when?”

“He said he would find me and he has.” Loki turned to go. “No realm, no barren

moon, no crevice,” he whispered, the words spilling out of him like so many rivers.

Thor grabbed his arm. “Explain to me what this is. Now, brother.”

“When I fell from Asgard, I died,” Loki explained as quickly as he could. “Thanos brought me back.”

“So you were dead?” Sadness creased Thor’s face.

“Yes. And I didn’t want to come back. But Thanos thought me useful. So he forced me back, burdened me with knowledge and purpose and put the scepter in my hands. But all that knowledge,” Loki cringed under the weight of the memories. How he had once thought it glorious…. “It was hard to bear. It was like I was being remade, over and over until I could bear it.” his voice sounded shaky and tears clung traitorously to the corners of his eyes. “Do you know what that’s like? To be reborn?”

“Calm, Loki.” Thor grasped the side of his neck with his hands. “You are safe.”

“No.” He shook his head. “He said if I did not bring him the Tesseract, there was nowhere I could hide.” he was barely speaking now, his throat clogging with fear. “I am not safe. And neither is anyone else.”

Thor pointed at a man rushing by. “Send out a distress signal. Tell them we have families and few soldiers and that we need the nearest ship. Go!”

The man rushed back in the other direction.

Loki pulled out of Thor’s grasp. “I’m leaving.”

Sadness passed over Thor’s face. He nodded. “Very well.”

“What about you?”

“I’m staying to fight.”

“You-you can’t. You can’t fight! You’ll die!”

“Then I die with my people. I won’t leave them, Loki.”

“Thor….” he began to try to reason with him.

Thor smiled at Loki. “Farvell, brother. I wish you would stay but I don't blame you that you are leaving.”

“Brother, please—”

“It is better for you to leave than for me to see you dead. So go. I hope to see you again. If not here then in Valhalla.”

But only the brave went there. Had Thor called him brave? When he was running away? Who was his brother to forgive so much and remember so little? Thor smiled and walked away, leaving Loki alone once more.

He stood there, watching his brother. He wanted to help, but how could he? He was so afraid. So very afraid. Yet he had made Thor a promise and had said only moments ago that he would fight beside him.

“Are you coming?” Korg asked.

Loki glanced up at the pile of rocks, Meek still tucked under his arm. Loki paused. He needed to hide the Tesseract anyway.

So that’s your excuse.

A dull thud sounded ahead. The ship screeched and groaned. The front window crashed in and the Black Order stepped through the window, not so much human as something born of the inky abyss of space.

Loki froze, his feet on the steps of freedom, as he watched his brother attack. His people could not fight. He knew that. They weren’t soldiers. Hela had killed most of them. These people were just....people. Families, parents, husbands, wives. Children not of war but of peace.

Thor and what few fighters there actually was, with the aid of the Hulk,  attacked the Order. And the Order razed them down.

And then Thor, too, went down. Loki’s hand shot out as if he could reach him all this way.

“Are you coming?” someone shouted.

Loki’s foot stepped off the platform. He couldn’t leave, not now. Loki would stay true to his word. As he had sworn so would he keep. He moved back. “Go,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Go! Get out of here!” And with that Loki ran towards his brother.

Monsters surrounded him, things purely out of darkness. But he was a monster himself and knew how to handle them. With a wave of his hands, his daggers appeared and he cut down all that stood between him and his brother. He found him lying still on the ground.

“On your feet, brother,” he said, using all his strength to try to lift him.

“Loki?” Thor gasped for air, turning on his back. “This is Valhalla?”

“No. We can go there later.” He smiled, helping Thor to his feet.

“Thank you,” Thor said.

“Side by side?” Loki cocked his head, giving that smile born from a thousand emotions and few of them good.

Thor nodded. Together, they turned to the horde. And together they fought and yet still, as Loki knew would happen, they lost. But at least they were together, at least they were not alone as their people were hewn down, like so many trees, until only bodies of friends and foes lay at their feet. Until only the Order  and the two sons of Asgard remained.

Lightning crackled between Thor’s fingers. He hadn’t used his power yet, probably because he would tear the ship in half if he did, but most everyone was dead now. The ship rocked with another resounding boom.  Thor gripped his hands tight, power ready to be set loose upon whoever came near. Were the escape pods gone? Loki couldn't be sure. If not, they needed to hold the Order off as long as possible and if Thor used his power, would there even be enough of a ship to let the pods leave?

So, with great hesitation, Loki placed a hand on Thor’s arm. Thor looked at him, his eye full of light and rage. Loki shook his head and Thor seemed to understand him. The power died from his eye and fingers. And so Thor and Loki stood, ready to face death together.

Loki wasn’t surprised when he felt only great joy at the thought of dying and dying not alone, but the word “Wait!” was yelled out and all the fighting stopped. Multiple weapons were pointed at them.

Silence echoed through the ship. The ship drenched in darkness save for a few flickering lights shooting out embers of electricity, and fires kindling in small places, mixing smoke and death into a hideous perfume. The ship was as torn apart as the Asgardians were, and as broken as Loki felt. Somewhere below, Loki could feel more than hear the desperate plea for help, being repeated over and over, sent out to the dark of space where no one could hear their screams of desperation.

“Our crew is made of Asgardian families, we have very few soldiers here. This is not a war craft, repeat this is not….”

Loki stopped listening when a member of the Black Order grabbed Thor and threw him across the room. He collided head first into a wall. As Thor tried to get to his feet to fight back, they picked him up and threw him once more. Loki stepped towards him and the spears fenced around him. Thor lay in a crumpled heap near his feet, but too far away for him to help. He was powerless and he hated that.

Suppose I always break my promises, Loki thought.

“Hear me,” a man said behind him. “And rejoice. You have had the privilege of being saved by the great Titan. You may think this is suffering. No.” Loki heard groans of people he knew. Pleas for mercy which the Black Order did not fulfill. “It is salvation. Universal scales tipped forward balance because of your sacrifice.”

Sacrifice. All this sacrifice. Loki saw out of the corner of his eyes people he had known and grown up with, people he had loved but had not loved him. What sacrifice was this? What balance could be found in death?

And Loki realized then he wasn’t like he was when he came to Earth, willing to kill whatever to do what it took to rule. Whatever it took to be free from the grip of Thanos. No. This wasn’t balance or sacrifice, it was just death and blood, fire and rage. and Loki hated it as much as himself.

“Smile,” The man walked around him, grey and aged, not deeming to look Loki’s way as he passed him. He would regret that. “For even in death you have become children of Thanos.”

Loki clenched his jaw and looked ahead. He saw the figure of Thanos, silent as a stone angel from below, backlit against less than holy lights. He was just standing there, observing his people killing Loki’s.

Thanos turned towards him. Fear clung to Loki’s soul, grasping words not forgotten and pain not easily put away. Scars were not to be found on his skin, but inside...inside he was laced with them.

“I know what it’s like to lose,” Thanos boomed. “To feel so desperately that you’re right, yet to fail nonetheless.” He grasped Thor’s armour near his neck and, with a groan from his brother, lifted him, as he helplessly struggled closer to Loki.

So near now. So very near.

In the shadows, something large stirred.

“As lightning turns the legs to jelly,” Thanos went on,“I ask you, to what end? Dread it, run from it...destiny arrives all the same.” He set Thor on the ground and held him by his head now. “And now it’s here. Or should I say...I am.”

Thanos lifted his fist. On it, rested a golden gauntlet that resembled all too much the work of the Nidavellir Dwarves. And there was a stone on it...an Infinity Stone. More fear crippled Loki’s heart as the Power stone lit his face.

“You talk too much,” Thor groaned.

Loki looked at Thor, eyes pleading for silence as the gripped Thor’s head tighter.

“The Tesseract.” Thanos stared at Loki. “Or your brother’s head.”

Loki stared at Thor. He couldn’t give the stone to Thanos. More would die. Besides, Thor wouldn’t want him to sacrifice everything to save him. And yet he knew what keeping it meant. Could he watch his brother die? For Thanos did not toy with idle threats.

Was this worse than pain? Sweeter than the feeling of not breathing, not living?

“I assume you have a preference?” Thanos sneered.

“Oh, I do,” Loki said. And with hate in his heart at the very words he spoke, he held back all fear and pain as he said, “Kill away.”

Even Thanos was surprised at this. Thor’s eye flashed open in confusion before Thanos squeezed. As he squeezed, he pressed his gauntlet at his face. Loki remembered all too well that feeling, of a stone similar, the pain and agony of it. The horror. A scream echoed out of Thor resounding and piercing so many daggers in Loki’s heart. It truly would be better to die.

Loki froze his smile in place. He remembered when they were young, willing to fight monsters and opting instead to fight snakes created by their mother. And he looked at his brother. His kind brother who had done no wrong. Who had smiled in the face of pain and death. Who was so good unlike himself.

He remembered Thor grabbing hold of his scepter, trying to keep hold of him before he fell. Or pleading with him to come home.

And his smile started to fall.

He thought of when Thor said he thought the world of him or told him he loved him.

And his smile fell more.

You’re the god of mischief, Thor had told him the zapper barely affecting him, but you could be so much more.

We could be, he had seen in Thor’s eyes before he had left.

And his smile was nearly gone as Thor screamed even louder. If only Loki could take his eyes off him, look away from the agony, he might be able to survive. But he couldn’t stop staring. Tears replaced the fake joy in his eyes, fear loosening his armour he had built so well.

And as Loki remembered sitting by his brother’s side watching the sunset a thousand years ago and Thor opened his mouth to speak, Loki yelled, half-pleading, half-screaming “Alright, stop!”

He would have run to his brother if he could. Held onto him and not let go, but he didn’t. He just watched as Thanos loosened his grip and his brother stopped screaming.

And something grew closer in the shadows.

Loki closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to contain his emotions. Thanos had seen his weakness and now Loki would have to do all he could to stop him from destroying it.

“We don’t have the Tesseract,” Thor gasped. “It was destroyed on Asgard.”

Loki looked at his brother, pain tearing his heart in two.

Oh, I’m sorry, he thought. I’ve betrayed us all.

He glanced up at Thanos. Exchanged glances with his brother and the Titan. Hoping, somehow, Thor would forgive him once more, he held his hand out. The Tesseract appeared in his fingers as if conjured from air.

Thanos smiled as Thor gasped.

“You really are the worst, brother,” Thor whispered, sending a far more fatal blow to his soul than death ever could.

Loki stepped forward, hand outstretched. He stared at Thor, still in Thanos’ grasp. There was so much he wanted to say, so many words, but he would keep them for later. Keep them when all was safe again, even if it was only in death. So, instead, he said, “I assure you, brother,” and with this his eyes met his, “the sun will shine on us again.” It was his promise, his oath and he would die for it now as he would die for him.

Thanos chuckled. “Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian.”

The shadow flashed green eyes at Loki. A slight smile curved Loki’s face.

“Well, for one thing,” he said with an almost sneer, some of his cockiness returning, not so much proud of his status, but glad that he was something else, something Thanos could not understand. “I’m not Asgardian. And for another…,” he remembered the words of that human so long ago who also grinned in the face of danger but was more than human alone. He smiled. “We have the Hulk.”

A roar sounded behind Thanos. As Thanos looked behind him at the looming threat, Loki jumped towards Thor. The Tesseract bounced out of his hands as he wrapped his arms around his brother, shielding his body from the pounding steps of the Hulk.

Loki glanced over his brother. Nothing permanent.

He held him against the storm of sounds. With his life, he would protect his family, protect all he had left. With his arms, he would never let his brother go.

Ending 1: No More Resurections

Loki held onto Thor, unwilling to let go. He felt deep inside, that this was the end. The end of everything. And as soon as he let go, that end would begin quickly, far too quickly.

Thor tried to pull away, struggling. But Loki held fast. Just stay down, he pleaded. Please don't. Not now. Not yet.

But he was Thor after all. If he didn’t fight, who was he? A coward like himself? Even if it was a lost cause, he would feel wrong if he didn’t try. So Loki loosened his grip. Thor looked at his brother for one moment before charging forward.

Loki watched helplessly as Thor lifted his sword and threw it at Thanos. It bounced off his armor and clanged to the ground. Still, Thor persisted, going in for a blow to the side. Thanos merely kicked him, sending Thor flying across the room. He landed on the ground with a yell.

Loki stood in the shadows as a member of the Order, the one who proudly spoke of sacrifice threw an armored prison of sorts at Thor. It locked around his body, holding him down.

On the ground, amidst several bodies, Heimdall called for the Allfathers. “Let the dark magic flow through me one last time.”

The Bifrost opened. The Hulk was lifted into it and blasted away, out of the ship and into space. Loki wished Heimdall had sent Thor away, but would he even survive it? He was weak now, it could kill him. Of course, him being here might also kill him. Unless….

“That was a mistake,” Thanos said, looming over the guardian of the Bifrost, before plunging a spear into him.

Loki gasped as Thor yelled. A god, so much power, destroyed so easily. So simply.

“You’re going to die for that,” Thor cried.

The order member waved his hand and a piece of steel wrapped around Thor’s mouth. “Shh,” he said, putting a finger on his lips. He picked up the Tesseract. “My humble personage,” he kneeled, “bows before your grandeur. No other being has ever had the might, nay, the nobility to wield not one but two infinity stones.”

Thanos picked up the Tesseract, holding it in his hands.

“The universe lies within your grasp.” As he said this, Thanos gripped the stone tight, breaking it to pieces. What a hideously beautiful thought of what to do to the mighty, empty, perfect universe. Thanos placed the stone in his glove and the world was filled with blue light before settling down.

All the while, Loki watched, looking at Thanos and Thor, trying to think of a way to get him out. To free him and let him live. He had half a kingdom to rule still. And then the word “half” stuck in his head, encircling all his thoughts. And he knew finally what needed to be done.

For Thanos was all about equality, only taking half of everything.

A terrible and dark idea bloomed inside Loki. No tricks this time, no mischief. He had one path before him now and he must take it. Some solutions are not simple and at least this one might save his brother.

For he had sworn an oath to fight beside his brother and to die beside him too. Besides, all this was his fault anyway and he had much to atone for.

Will I go to Valhalla?, he wondered, I must die courageously in battle and with my weapon .

And if he went to Hel, he knew plenty of people that wanted to hurt him; at least he wouldn't be bored there.

“There are two more stones on earth,” Thanos said. “Find them, my children, and bring them to me.”

“Father we will not fail you,” a woman said.

Finding all the courage, all the resolve and armour he had built over himself for centuries, Loki swallowed back the terror and found his Trickster self again.

He stepped from the shadows. “If I might interject. If you’re going to Earth,” he outstretched his arms and laughed. “You might want a guide.” He shrugged, moving forward, ignoring the members on either side of him. “I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”

“Well, if you consider failure experience,” Thanos replied.

“I consider experience, experience. “ Loki faced Thanos, no Hulk, no soldiers standing between him. If he could just trick him long enough.

“Hmph,” Thanos muttered.

Loki stepped forward. “Almighty, Thanos...I, Loki, Prince of Asgard.” He walked closer. And paused. Breathed a smile. “Odinson….” he thought of his father, of his last words, saying he loved him, loved his sons. And Loki loved him too, through it all, despite it all.

Loki looked at Thor. I’m sorry,  he wanted to say. Never doubt my love.  But these were things he could no longer say. He wondered if Thor could read them in his eyes. He hoped he heard the word “brother” when he claimed heritage to Odin. Loki hoped his brother knew all that hid behind his words.

Loki turned back to Thanos, tearing his eyes away from his brother, sure he had looked upon him for the last time. “The rightful king of Jotunheim. God of Mischief.” He produced a dagger at his side. “Do hereby pledge to you...my undying fidelity.” He bowed his head.

Did Thor know he spoke to him? How even in death in as many lives to come he was now and forever Thor’s? Did his brother understand this was not an act of betrayal but of love? He supposed he would never know, but he hoped.

Tears touched his eyes. He breathed, once, twice, fear lacing his bones and trying to stay his hand but he was Odin’s son and Thor’s brother and he had the courage to defeat his terror.

So he flung his hand out. His dagger came inches from Thano’s throat. But it was too late. He was frozen in place, blue light surrounding his arm. He knew somehow, of course, he did. This was a fool’s errand or perhaps just a sacrificial one.

Ahh, yes, sacrifice. Dying for someone else. So that’s what that word meant.

“Undying,” Thanos sneered.

Loki steeled himself, trying to show only rage and not fear. Only defiance and not pain.

Thanos grasped Loki’s hand, holding tight and squeezing. Pain coursed up his arm, forcing him to drop his knife, his sure ticket to the gates of Valhalla. His heart dropped. How would he enter now? Could he die bravely? This was no battle, but still, maybe he could.

“You should choose your words more carefully,” Thanos said, before wrapping his gauntleted hand around his throat.

Air few out of his lungs. He struggled for breath as Thanos lifted him in the air. Loki vainly tried to pull away, but he knew the power of Thanos.

This was his end. The end, finally. He wished it didn’t have it be this, but it was his fate after all. If only fame had let him and Thor be brothers for a moment more.

Loki choked and struggled, helplessly. The worst part was knowing Thor watched. Knowing that he’d regret his last words. They were true, but Thor would still hate himself for it. Thanos smiled.  

“You…” Loki forced out, determined to be resolute in his last, determined to leave this world better than when he came in. “will never be...a god.” His eyes were filling with tears now. His face felt thick and disconnected, his eyes strained.

Oh, my brother, forgive me. Farvell.

Thanos cocked his head. Squeezed tighter. Loki thought he heard a crack from somewhere far away. He was sinking now, sinking lower and lower into the dark. He thought he heard Thanos say, “No more resurrections.”

Well good. He hadn’t wanted the first one. He fell deeper and deeper until he found himself in that last memory from a thousand years ago.

Two brothers, as children, watching an Asgardian sunset.

Thor opened his mouth to speak. And this time, unlike before when he had been interrupted by Loki’s screams, he did speak. “I’m glad you’re with me, brother.”

“I’m glad too,” Loki remembered saying and said at the same time. “Where do I go now?” A new part of the memory was added, making a new part of the story. This was no longer a memory, more a dream now.

“To Valhalla, of course.” Thor beamed.

“But I lost my weapon. And I didn’t die in battle, or bravely.”

“You did. This was the greatest battle, the battle of saving yourself or someone else. The battle of sacrifice. And as for your weapon...you died for me, using my courage. I was your weapon, then and always. As I am your brother.”

Loki smiled as the dream faded. He closed his eyes and drifted away, never to feel pain nor fear, guilt nor sorrow ever again.

I will see you again, brother, he thought, when the sun shines once more.

Thor watched helplessly as his brother made that attempt. He watched as Thanos choked the life out of him. And he heard Loki’s last words.

“No!” Thor cried, his voice muffled by the metal on his mouth.

Not Loki. Not his brother. He was all he had left in the world, all he had to hold onto. And now he was….

Thanos looked at him. Carried his body over to him. And tossed him down on the ground inches away.

Loki was a prince, a god, a king, he did not deserve to be treated this way.

Anger mixed with rage kindling with grief to make a blazing fire in his soul. Oh, Thanos would pay for that as well. He would suffer surely.

“No resurrections this time,” Thanos swore.

Thor stared down at the lifeless body of his brother. They had just found each other again, made oaths once more, fought together. And Thor had said he was the worst. That was the last thing he had said.

What monster was he to put that on his brother?

Thanos and the others formed a loose circle. Thanos raised his hand in the air. A vibration hummed through the world and bright flames encircled them.

And they were gone.

The chains collapsed off of Thor. Before any of them were fully off, Thor was on the ground, aching towards Loki. He crawled to him, pain filling each movement. Not that anything as simple as pain mattered now.

He reached out and grabbed Loki’s body, clenching it tightly. “No...Loki,” he cried. His brother, his poor brother who deserved all the world, who deserved to be loved, but saw and felt none of it.

He just wanted to be brothers again, but Fate was so cruel. Did it want to destroy him? Well, it had. Something had beat him finally. Beat him so that he would never try to win again.

Thor knew Loki was not betraying him, he knew what Loki said and who he had pledged himself to. He saw the words in his green eyes that would never flash with anger or joy again. He hoped Loki knew he understood.

He buried his face in his brother’s chest and sobbed. He took his hand in his, his cold hand devoid of any warmth or life. He squeezed as tightly as he could as if by his doing so he could force life back into him, force only a little fire back into his veins once more.

All his pain and sorrow and grief, he let out into half-screams and choking sobs. Who did he have to hold it back for anymore?

The ship rumbled beneath him. He knew it would explode any moment. Let the dead be set to space; they could not burn, could not have a warrior’s burial and so neither would the Odinsons.

Thor would stay holding onto his brother until death took him too. He could meet him again in death. There would be no need for a resurrection if he was dead too.

The ship began to break. As it broke, Thor prayed to the Allfathers to send Loki to Valhalla.

Loki, I bid you to take your place in the halls of Valhalla

The crackling of fire sounded nearby.

Where thine enemies have been vanquished

Metal groaned and fell.

Where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice for those that have died the glorious death.

The world around him broke apart. He clung tighter to his brother.

Lo, There do I see my Father, and  Lo, there do I see my Mother, and  Lo, There do I see my Brother.

This was the end. His end. The finality of everything, weighed little on him. And he was okay with it. For there was more that could be found in death now than could be sought after in life.

He calls me, he thought as something hit him. Darkness took over and still, he clung. The world turned dark and he fell deep.

Thor smiled. He would see his family again. See his brother once more.

So bring me to him.

Ending 2: Undying            

Loki held onto Thor, unwilling to let go. He felt deep inside, that this...was the end. The end of everything. And as soon as he let go, that end would begin quickly, far too quickly.

But...it couldn’t be. Loki had to be stronger than that. For Thor. For Asgard. For himself. He was a god after all.

Thor tried to pull away from Loki. Loki watched the Hulk attack Thanos and lose just as quickly. A moment more, he thought, keeping his grip on his brother, just a little longer. He needed as much time as he could get.

Thor looked at his brother for one moment as Loki released him. Quickly, Loki jumped into the shadows. He conjured a fake Tesseract, switching it with the real one, currently unnoticed. He only needed the power for a brief moment.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deep and slow. His eyes opened and the power of the Space stone surged through him. Enough power to protect himself from whatever Thanos did. He needed more than just his usual tricks. His last death was believable enough to Thor but he needed to fool Thanos this time.

He felt magic pour through him, pure and unequal to anything. Magic that he had not felt since he had been under Thanos’ rule. Loki’s eyes flashed open and he was sure the light of the stone flamed in them before resuming their green glow.

His skin had become that of the Jotunheim frost giants, blue and cold and dead, before morphing slowly back to the skin of his people.

The member of the Order who spoke of sacrifice stepped to the stone. In a flash, Loki switched them, too fast for even the strongest eyes to catch. The fake stone vanished in Loki’s hands.

He was interrupted by seeing the Bifrost opening and the Hulk blasted away into space. Loki looked over at Thor, locked in some sort of metal prison.

“That was a mistake,” Thanos said, looming over Heimdall, before plunging a spear through him.

Loki gasped as Thor yelled. A god, so much power, destroyed so easily. So simply.

“You’re going to die for that,” Thor cried.

The Order Member waved his hand and a piece of steel wrapped around his brother’s mouth. “Shh,” he said, putting a finger to his mouth.

Loki breathed deeply as the member picked up the stone and offered it to Thanos. Loki went back to concentrating. A plan had formed in his mind, a simple one, one Thanos would think foolish and ignorant.

“The universe lies within your grasp,” he heard before also hearing the Tesseract being crushed. What a hideously beautiful thought of what to do to the mighty, empty, perfect universe.

The world turned bright blue for a moment. Loki kneeled in the shadows, hoping his plan would direct attention off of Thor and free him. This plan must free him or what was the point? His brother still had half a kingdom to rule. Loki just hoped he’d be there to see it one day.

Besides, Thanos was all about equality and taking only half of things. So, if his plan worked, Thor would be safe.

“There are two more stones on Earth,” Thanos said. “Find them, my children, and bring them to me.”

Now was his time to work.

“Father, we will not fail you,” a woman said.

Finding all the courage, all the resolve and armour he had built for himself for centuries, Loki swallowed the terror and found his Trickster self again.

He stepped from the shadows. “If I might interject. If you’re going to Earth,” He stretched his arms and laughed. “You might want a guide.” He shrugged, moving forward. “I do have a bit of experience in that arenas.”

“Well if you consider failure experience,” Thanos replied.

“I consider experience.” Loki faced Thanos, no Hulk, no soldiers standing between him.

“Hmph,” Thanos muttered.

Loki stepped forward. “Almight Thanos….I, Loki, Prince of Asgard.” He walked closer. And paused. Breathed a smile. “Odinson.” He thought of his father, his last words saying he loved him, love his sons. And Loki loved him too, through it all, despite it all. He looked at his brother.

I’m sorry, he wanted to say, never doubt my love. None of this is real. Save only my pledge to you.

But these were things he could not say, not now at least. Maybe not forever. This deed would break Thor. Might be best to let him think him gone, instead of showing how he had betrayed him once more.

Yet, he hoped the word “brother”, when he claimed heritage to Odin, could be seen in those words.

Loki turned back to Thanos, tearing his eyes away from his brother, for perhaps the final time. “The rightful king of Jotunheim. God of Mischief.” He produced a dagger at his side. “Do hereby pledge to you...my undying fidelity.” He bowed his head.

Did Thor know he spoke to him? How, whether he lived or died, he was now and forever Thor’s? Did his brother understand this was not a betrayal but was an act of love? He supposed not, believed he’d never know that, but still, he dared to hope.

Tears touched his eyes. He steeled himself, fear lacing every nerve and nearly destroying his plan. But he must continue. He was a son of Odin, and a brother of Thor, and he had the courage to defeat his terror. He breathed, once, twice, before flinging his dagger out. It came inches from Thanos’ throat.

But it was too late. He was frozen into place, blue light surrounding his arm.

So far, so good.

 “Undying,” Thanos sneered. He grasped Loki’s arm, holding tight and squeezing. Pain coursed up his arm, forcing him to drop the knife. Why did he still feel pain? Doubt lingered in him. Had he done enough? Would he still be able to protect himself?

“You should choose your words more carefully,” Thanos said, before wrapping his gauntleted hand around his throat. Air flew out of his lungs, replaced just as quickly by more air.

It was almost torture, this back and forth, this pain and freedom, just like last time. He had felt death and life at the same time, but now it was amplified to a thousand degrees. Loki vainly tried to pull away, even though he knew that that wish being granted would ruin his plans.

Yet he trusted in the power and unchanging mind of Thanos. And Loki choked and struggled, knowing the worst part was that Thor watched. That he would regret perhaps his final words to him. He was right, but still, Thor would hate himself for it.

“You….” Loki forced out, “will never be...a god.” His eyes were filling with tears now. His face felt thick and disconnected, his eyes strained.

Oh, my brother, forgive me.

Thanos cocked his head. Squeezed tighter. Loki thought he heard a crack somewhere but perhaps it was just his armour.

He heard Thor’s yells and instantly wanted to assure him all was well. He felt himself being moved and wanted to jump down and free his brother. He felt himself tossed on the ground and wished to sit up with a smile. Loki heard Thanos say, “No more resurrections,” and wanted more than anything to jump up and say with a laugh, “Are you quite sure?”

But he could do none of that. He just had to lay there, unmoving, unseeing.

The world began to vibrate and pulse with life. Loki heard chains clank on the ground and then, a moment later, he felt Thor grab his chest.

“No...Loki,” he heard him cry.

Loki felt all the world pushed and prodded him forward to hold his brother and tell him all would be alright. But he couldn't. If Thanos found out, who was to say Thor would survive? Who was to say Thanos wouldn’t decide to punish Loki with life after his brother’s death? And who could be certain any of his people would last another encounter.

The ship rocked and he heard fire explode nearby.

Get out, Thor, go. Leave me while there’s still time.

But Thor didn’t hear nor would he listen if he did. Instead, Loki felt him bury his face in his chest and sob. This was not the first time Loki had heard his brother cry, but it was the worst by far. The last time he had at least fallen asleep before he could hear them. But now...now he was crying for the world, crying for the cruelty of fate and the hideous things that his smile could prevent no longer.

And then he felt Thor grip his hand, squeezing tight. He knew his body would feel cold, half because of his magic, half because of his true self, but this hurt more than anything ever could.

So this was what wishing for something as sweet as pain was like? Unable to move and comfort, while feeling unending agony like the dripping of venom course through him with each cry of his brother.

How he wished to be dead at this moment. It would be easier. Finally, he could stand it no longer, Loki doubled himself, an invisible self now and walked towards Thor.

The ship was breaking. Thor had to escape. Loki knelt beside him, his hand hovering over his head. Would Thor see his tricks and know? Best not to risk it, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Leave, brother,” he whispered. “Now is not the time to die.”

And then the ship exploded and Thor flew back, passing through Loki and into space.

His eyes, his real eyes, flashed open. Thor had been knocked unconscious and would not wake for a while. So Loki wrapped his arms around his brother and shielded him from the debris and fire and death flying around them.

He watched his people float in space, never to be given the burials they deserved. Thanos didn’t just kill, he destroyed and tore apart all that was sacred and good.  He watched Thanos’ ship vanish and all was silent in the abyss of space.

“You’re safe, brother,” Loki said. “You’re safe now.”

A ship appeared out of nowhere, old but in good condition. Had they responded to their distress signal? Loki was rather shocked that anyone had listened. Maybe there was some good left after all.

Loki grinned. “Get help.” And with that, he tossed his brother against the window of the ship. Thor landed against it, unmoving. The ship drew him in and Loki followed, morphing into an invisible form.

He watched strange-looking people lie him on a table. Loki wasn’t paying much attention to them, hearing only a few comments about how strong his arms were or that he was born from a pirate and an angel (they weren’t entirely wrong). Loki was focusing on Thor. He didn’t seem too injured, given the circumstances. Too weak to go through the Bifrost, although Loki still hoped Heimdall had sent him there anyway.

Loki rested a palm on his brother's head.

His hand shot back as a woman with antennae placed her hands on either side of Thor’s temples. “He is anxious,” she said softly. “Angry. He feels tremendous loss and guilt.”

A shot of pain echoed through his heart. No guilt compared to his own.  He could remedy all those feelings, but he couldn’t. He had to wait and protect his brother. Sometimes the hardest things were the better. Loki was starting to realize this now after so long.

“I am sorry, so very sorry,” he said, trying to hold in his emotions like so much broken glass.

The woman woke him up. He sprang up, flinging himself near a wall. Loki dashed to him. He saw the pain and memory filling Thor’s eye, sending more venom into Loki’s already broken heart. Thor turned around and met the odd group.

After a while, Thor, a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders, that Loki wanted to tighten, ate slowly, and barely. Loki sat beside him, listening to a woman talk about Thanos. When she revealed that she was the daughter of Thanos, shock creased Loki’s face. Then again, he knew little about Thanos himself save for his desires and power.

“Your father killed my brother.” Thor jumped up from the table. Loki sat there, unmoving. He knew this path of revenge Thor would surely take was his fault. If only he could just be king. But surrender was not in his nature as much as satisfaction was not in his own. And then Thor consoled the woman, saying family can be tough and explaining what happened with Hela.

How could his brother still be so kind after all that happened? He was too good for this tired, broken world and deserved far better.

Loki’s attention focused on the group when he heard Thor saying he needed to go to Knowhere to get the Reality stone from the Collector. Ahh, yes, he remembered doing that. It had seemed wise at the time, certainly, it seemed far wiser when he explained it to Tivan’s brother, the Grandmaster. Now, that Thanos had seemed to have figured out a way to find them, he couldn't be sure of the wisdom in the plan. Would the Grandmaster have hidden it well? He wouldn’t sell it, although it might have been better if he had.

“Only an idiot would give that man a stone,” someone said.

“Or a genius,” Thor defended Loki even after everything, even after knowing all he knew. Loki smiled for the first time in a long time.

Loki would sneak off the ship that went to Knowhere and find a ship of his own. Perfect timing, for Loki, was growing weary of staying in this invisible form, helpless and alone.

He watched Thor get on a ship with the tree and raccoon.

“Farewell, morons,” Thor smiled.

Loki smiled back, half-believing he was included him in that group. His smile fell as the ship pulled away. Loki stared into the eye of his brother, not sure if Fate would ever let them meet again.

Farvell, brother. I will see you again when the sun shines once more.

And so the God of Mischief hid in the shadows until the ship reached Knowhere and then found a small ship heading far away, with a crew small enough and bored enough to bribe. He wasn’t sure where he would go. Maybe Sakaar? If he would be accepted back. Maybe if the Grandmaster found out what happened to the Hulk and how his brother was in trouble.

A bit of forgotten pride swelled up inside Loki as he flew away from the world and all its troubles. It was soon, however, followed by a dagger of pain to his heart as he knew he flew from his people and his brother. He hated himself for it, but what could he do? He couldn’t be there, he couldn’t help. No one would want him around anyway. If he stayed out of the way or tried to enlist the help of the Grandmaster, maybe he would be doing something good.

He had Thor’s courage and he had to save him now, just not beside him.

Days passed, one fading into the next in the icy blackness of space. Nothing happened at all out here in the dark and the cold and Loki found his thoughts dwelling only on Thor and where he was and what had happened.

And then the crew turned to ash in front of him. And the ship began to fall into the dark.

Shock turned to determination. He had to do everything himself. It wasn’t hard to take back control of the ship; Loki realized he had paid too much for the incompetence he had found. As he floated in space, alone and confused, he wondered if this was Thanos’ doing. Had he found all the stones and accomplished his plan? And had half of all life been destroyed?

Were his people in that mix? Was Thor? Was Loki the only Asgardian left in all the world?

Loki knew he had to find out. No time to try to scheme or devise plans to enlist help. He needed to find Thor now and...then he could get help.

For he had to keep his pledge. He had given his life to Thor, given his heart and soul, and all of him undying as it was. He would need to hold fast to that oath now and defend it all costs. All the world might be gone, but not Loki and not his brother. He knew, deep inside somewhere, that Thor still lived and he would find him again, no matter how long it took.

The sun would shine again, and maybe it would shine sooner than Loki expected. For what could Thanos’ truly do if the sons of Odin fought together?

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

After Wanda Maximoff expanded the Hex in an attempt to save the Vision, Captain Monica Rambeau and Agent Jimmy Woo escaped and headed into New York to give the Avengers and other heroes a debriefing session. While they were unable to come up with any solutions, the conflict escalated when Wanda herself showed up and took some of the heroes back to Westview with her.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

MONICA: Everything felt wrong. Everything was wrong, but Monica wasn’t the type to linger on where they were failing. She had to focus on what they had going for them... which was admittedly very little at the moment. Stepping through shadows and arranging secret meetings in dilapidated warehouses all felt very illicit. It was the exact opposite of everything Maria Rambeau had instilled in the bones of S.W.O.R.D. when she created it. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures. That’s what she had told Jimmy grimly when she accepted her coffee that morning, black and burning her tongue. They both looked exhausted. At some point she had discarded the blue S.W.O.R.D. windbreaker she had been wearing for days and found herself stripped down in just a sweater and jeans. Not exactly wow ‘em with a first impression style but Monica had a one track mind that was circling Westview. “Bigger turnout than I expected.” Her voice was clear despite the lack of sleep. Maria had taught her a few things, and one of them was to hold herself together under pressure. “I know it’s not on the news or being talked about, but Agent Woo and myself were there. We talked to Maximoff. And I,” she swallowed thickly around the hot ball of humiliation she had been shoving to the side. “Was inside the Hex. If you’ve got questions we’ll do our best to answer, but we need is a game plan here.” Or a why. Or a how. How had anyone let this happen. “You know Wanda. Anyone get any kind of vibe from her that she was about to hold a town hostage and steal a body?”

CAROL: Carol scratched at the back of her head, the half-assed bun she'd thrown her hair into protesting until she ultimately removed the band entirely and fiddled with it instead. A twirl around her wrist followed by a pop as she snapped it against her skin. And then she repeated the process, listening as Monica spoke, following the way the agent moved as she explained the precarious situation. Bad guys usually came in the form of sinister aliens or disgruntled mutants. Not too common did they come from their very own backyard. "Hold a town hostage?" They'd been briefed before settling into this dilapidated building and Carol tried to hold the bite back in her tone. "She's torturing them." She couldn't help but cast a glance to Pietro, asking a question that didn't really require an answer. Still, "Are we even sure this is Wanda?"

STRANGE: Stephen was dressed a bit more casually than usual, meaning less magical. He had his gray suit with his red shirt and black tie underneath, but of course a man of his caliber always needs a little extra flair, that's what the black cape that went halfway down his back was for; aka the transmogrified Cape of Levitation. He sat patiently one leg resting over the other for the meeting to start. This wasn't his meeting for once so he chose to be polite and not chime in right away. Although when Monica began taking questions he didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes and no." He said as he folded his hands in his lap. "She was doing well for once. Made a lot of progress but was always seeking to push the limits. Hoping to bring back The Vision and Pietro but I would always try and talk her down from it. While I can't claim I didn't see this as a possibility I certainly believed it wouldn't come down to this." He aimed to keep his town emotionless and professional despite his pedagogical love for her.

MONICA: Dark eyes skipping over the crowd, Monica refused to let them rest on a single person. “It’s Wanda.” Her voice was firm. “That grief, the emptiness. It’s not manufactured. It’s raw and it’s all consuming.” If they could have gone into the situation and danced around her tenure as Geraldine: sassy Black friend Monica would have done so in a heartbeat. Her experience was part of the puzzle though and she knew it. “It’s the feeling of someone who has nothing left. But that’s not true. I mean, some of you are examples to the contrary. So why would she feel like that? And how did none of you notice she was drowning?” Maybe it was harsh, but Monica wanted answers. Everyone stuck in Wanda’s sick game deserved them.

BILLY: Billy was leaning over his edge of the table, picking at the corners of his nails, his eyes downcast and away from the rest of his family that was perched near him. Man, he hated this. "She seemed fine when we talked. I mean, I know it hasn't been easy for her, but she never seemed so..." unhinged was left unsaid as he trailed off, finally picking his gaze up from the table top and looking at Monica. "She created a whole family." he stated, the rumble in his tone an indication of how troubled that made him. "But she had one already, didn't she?"

PETER: Peter had shown up a few minutes earlier than the rest of the crowd, and lingered by the door as the group filed in. While his civilian attire felt wrong, it appeared to match the unspoken dress code of the rest and that alone quelled most of his nerves. Dwarfed by an oversized sweatshirt and a ratty old baseball cap emblazoned with the Star Wars logo, Peter tentatively raised a hand, “Wait, I’m sorry — steal a body?” The information was likely common knowledge, but Peter hadn’t been paying the closest attention during the initial debriefing and that was coming back to bite him in the ass right about now, “H- Hi— I’m sorry, can we go back to that part...”

LORNA: So her sister had gone mad. Lorna had seen that coming from a mile away ( decimation, anyone? ) but it was still sad to hear. She knew loss but not on that level, and in all honesty, Lorna couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t do the same if it was in her power. Someone had pulled some chairs around a sketchy looking table and the mutant was perched with one leg tucked underneath her. “I mean, we’re not super close with her. Things are fine but we don’t have sibling hangouts. She barely comes to Krakoa for obvious reasons. Idk how it was with you, dad,” she glanced at Erik. “But I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s not like she accidentally Decimated our people or anything. Of course this is the kind of shit she’s capable of consciously.”

SCOTT: “Yeah, I’m with the kid — what’s our level of concern in regards to all of this? Are we - delegating...things to worry about?” Scott gestured to Peter briefly before returning his hands to the pockets of his jacket, “Or is this one of those, ’everybody worry about everything’ situations. Because nothing against any of you,” he held up a hand to Monica apologetically, “but that doesn’t seem...the most...productive....” Noticing the conversation was continuing on around him, Scott trailed off, “...nope, yeah. Nevermind.”

PIETRO: Pietro stood to the side of his father for once, Tommy lingering to his own right, and together it was an interesting collection of white haired mutants that were related to the one in question — to say the least. With his arms crossed, he shrugged his shoulders in a fidget as Monica spoke. He glanced at Carol as her gaze slid his way and listened to the others as they shared their opinions. Which was really all they were. Opinions.  “Lorna, shut up.” He cleared his throat and turned back to Monica and Woo, though he spoke to the room. “Despite the way it might seem, my sister’s intent isn’t a hostage take over. She’s in pain, she’s alone — and she’s experiencing more power than anyone in this room has touched. Wanda’s still discovering what she’s capable of, in some ways she’s in control and in others I think it’s her subconscious.” Pietro inhaled and stepped out of line beside Erik and his nephew. “I think I’ve been speaking with her in our sleep — since the mind stone altered her, we have always shared a mental sort of link — she doesn’t want this reality any more, she doesn’t think there’s anything here for her. She doesn’t even think I’m real.  If we’re to do anything, it’s to show her that she’s wrong.” His gaze danced to his father, Tommy, and then Billy. Wanda had a whole family out here, she just didn’t know it.

CAROL: "How much of that is our job?" Carol asked, not intending to sound so crass but unable to help it. "Stepping into this role comes with more responsibility than anyone is ever prepared for and Wanda had a way out if she wanted it -- she's a mutant, she has a whole Island now. Instead, she became a terrorist to live out a sitcom fantasy and people are suffering. If she needed help, she should have talked to someone -- she shouldn't have stolen the Vision's scraps and pieced him back together." She let out a staggered breath, the tension in her shoulders the only indication, other than her tone, that she was eager to move and respond. React. "We can't be expected to keep tabs on everyone's mental state at all times."

LORNA: Eyes rolling at her no longer dead brother’s command, Lorna’s tongue stuck out slightly before she leaned back in her chair. Not because she was listening to him. She just didn’t have anything to contribute at that moment.

TRAUMA: He had been sitting quietly, picking at the black nail polish of his finger nails anxiously as he practiced the same meditative breathing as he did with his patients. Sure, he specialized with those with super powers and paranormal trauma were his specialty but this was on a whole new level and he was so ill acquainted with everyone in this room but he had to chime in. "Assigning blame won't accomplish anything in remedying this situation." Trauma chimed in, his cold eyes looking over everyone. "Terrence Ward, code name Trauma, leading paranormal trauma counselor. We aren't here to point fingers, are we? The fact of the matter is Wanda's mental health is her own responsibility and no one elses. While we hope those close with her would help her it's not their responsibility to keep her stable. We need to all get in this mindset before we can actually prepare to help the people she's taken under her control as well as her... So yeah..."

ABIGAIL: As a rule of thumb, Abigail wasn’t exactly known for having a good attitude. She could be considered surly on a good day but she was damn good at her job and that’s what counted. They had set up a tiny projector with a sheet on the wall and she tapped play as footage began to silently play. “Your girl is a metaphorical grave robber.” Bluntness weighed her words down. “I’d also like to talk about my agency. My agency that the asshole Hayward commandeered. S.W.O.R.D. has other branches. He’s acting outside of his jurisdiction. I managed to get this footage off the server before he booted me and my team. Which, as the actual Director of S.W.O.R.D. is incredibly frustrating.” Running a hand through green waves, she turned to the kid who had snuck in. “That explain it?”

ILLYANA: “Boo hoo.” Dark lips were tugged downwards in a mocking expression. “She lost people. People died. Everyone dies around here. I left my lovely living Island because you had questions about magic, and this is just a psychology discussion over someone who seems quite content with her delusion. What do you want from us? Do you want me to teleport inside? I have a sword. I’m great at ending things.”

STRANGE: "I do not suggest that, Miss Rasputin." Stephen chimed in. "As I'm sure you know, death isn't a sure fire way to end magical effects, especially as powerful as the hex. And even if it did, who knows what sort of violent psychological damage it could inflict on the citizen's of Westview." He also didn't want to lose Wanda. He claimed some sense of responsibility over her.

ERIK: “I think it’s easy to make judgements and accusations when you’re not the one that’s lost every person you’ve ever cared for. Everyone in this room has made fair points, Wanda has caused a great deal if distress for those inside Westview and those of us outside of it that are left to pick up the crumbling pieces. That in mind, I’d also like to remind everyone here that their own abilities are vastly inferior to my daughters. Not one of you could for a second fathom the responsibility she carries. I’ve seen Storm start fires in the atmosphere if she simply gets too angry, so she spent her entire life learning to control her emotions. You’re asking an orphaned girl who accidentally became an Avenger to do the same when she was dead for five of the years she carried the Avenger title. Perhaps we should be less quick to dismiss her as our responsibility. I don’t see that mind set when someone bombs the U.N. Now your teammate is falling apart and you’re upset she’s inconvenienced your day?  And you call yourself heroes.”

SCOTT: “Yeah - that’s an option,” Scott nodded to Illyana, stepping closer to the remainder of the group, “— or, you know, I could make myself reeeeally small, and just - “ a vague gesture and shrug later, “ - kinda, squeeze my way in. Thoughts?”

SAM WILSON: “Hey now,” Sam extended a hand towards the mutant mouthing off. “Doc is right. Even if she’s messing up, Wanda was our friend. Is our friend. She deserves a fair trial here. But this isn’t just about an inconvenience, Magneto. This is an active security threat and we aren’t the only ones with our eyes on the target. Maybe Captain Rambeau or Commander Brand know more than me, but I don’t think Hayward is trigger shy.”

PIETRO: Pietro zipped to stand inches from Illyana’s face, eyes narrowed. “Go ahead, do it. I’ll have you trapped in a vortex so fast your lungs will explode before your brain waves can even get the thought to your brain to teleport.”

CRYSTALIA: A moral support more than anything else, Crystalia was left standing next to the gust of air where Pietro had once been. “Pietro.” Her voice was quiet, body swaying slightly to keep the baby strapped to her asleep. “She’s trying to get a response. Even if she did teleport in, the Hex would rewrite her. Maybe Westview needs a Russian house cleaner.”

SUSAN: They had decided to only send one representative to the meeting. It made sense with the Fantastic Four trying to stay out of things and their never ending multiversal issues. “...That won’t work.” She shook her head at Scott Lang. “She’s rewriting reality. Do we have anyone else who can compete with that? Franklin, my son, used to but he’s been depleted.”

ADAM: Getting quite tired of all the back and forth bickering Adam chimed in. Arms crossed over his chest, face looking just as stern as ever. "Now now let's all return to our respective seats and leave threats of violence to the voices inside our heads, shall we?" He chimed in before giving Captain Rambeau a nod and turning his attention to Susan. "Thank you for bringing that up, Doctor Storm. One thing I was hoping to do was get a closer look at the Hex itself or at the energy readings that have been gathered by S.W.O.R.D. if anyone is in possession of such a thing. Then I can begin my work on creating an energy frequency directly opposing that of the Hex with the intent of using it to neutralize the reality altering energies being employed by miss Maximoff."

PIETRO: Pietro eased as Crystalia’s voice resonated and he stood again, stepping back to stand besides her and Luna. “That’s not the point.” he said to her. With ideas of violence thrown around, others were bound to feel the same and that kind of mentality was like a virus—it spread. Pietro turned to Sam then. “Hayward is not trigger shy — he already shot a missile at her and two ten year old boys. Not that it did him any favors.” he shrugged.

CAROL: Carol let out another breath, finally abandoning her fiddling antics and instead sat further back in her chair, the base squeaking with the applied pressure. "I don't want to hear about uncontrollable power when this one," she shot a hand towards Billy, "tried to bring back his boyfriend's dead mother by plucking through realities and we almost had to step in when everyone lost their damn minds." Carol then refocused her gaze on Erik, clear exhaustion burning into her features. "Wanda is not the first, nor the last person who will accidentally go haywire and lose control. That isn't the point here, Lehnsherr. The point is that Wanda is making a deliberate decision to do this. She's not out of control --- the problem is, she is in control, and she isn't stopping. This was the point of the Accords, wasn't it? To prevent things like this from happening?"

MONICA: At Adam’s interference, Monica gave him a wary and relieved close lipped smile. “We had readings on the Hex, but Hayward has them. Our other best bet was Dr. Lewis, but Darcy got sucked inside.” Monica still felt guilty about that. They had left her, hadn’t they? She had insisted -- but still. Out of the three of them Darcy was the one with zero combat skills and the most important knowledge. We either get Darcy back or the files, and that’s a toss-up. I’m not sure what the Hex consumed last night.” Knowing that didn’t help Adam much, Monica turned to Pietro. “She’s your sister. I get it. At this moment, I’m the closest anyone has been to Wanda since she built the Hex. I didn’t know that missile was armed. I never would have sent it in. But we do need a solution here. If we can non-lethally take her out maybe we can contain her before she wakes up. We just don’t know who we’re going to lose if we try, and I don’t want everyone to have to get tossed through a few fences if she decides she’s mad at you.”

SAM: Tension cording the muscles of his shoulders, Sam stood to pace along the back wall. “We really citing the Accords out here right now? Some of us,” he gestured towards Nat, Steve, Scott and Clint, “either got hauled into the Raft or ended up on the run. Both for some of us. Maybe structure isn’t bad but that deal was. If you were here, you would have known.” He left it open for any of the impacted parties to step in.

ERIK: Erik was glad to see Sam had a level head — he was a good fit for the shield and it was always better to have reason in the room. “I never disagreed that she wasn’t a threat.” he said. “I do think we should note the threat only advanced when — as Pietro said — Hayward made the first act of violence. All things considered Westview was for all intents and purposes contained until the director jumped the gun. Now it’s expanded and she feels threatened — If we send a group of mutants or agents or anyone up there that isn’t a face she cares for, I don’t think it will end well.” as Carol spoke next, Erik listened. “Is she?” he asked. “And how in control can one be when they’re restitching the fabric of reality, Miss. Danvers?”

BILLY: "Well, she expanded the area." Billy chimed in, fingers drumming against the table. "That kind of reality warping isn't easy to do if you can't control it. And she did it to save Vision, which does lend itself to being pretty deliberate." This whole conversation was making him uncomfortable, but considering he had enough experience with reality warping, he felt stupid keeping his mouth shut. "You can sometimes screw up," he cast an apologetic glance towards Carol before continuing, "And do it wrong, but it was still done."

MONICA: “The threat was already in advance.” Exhaustion and irritation lined Monica’s voice as she leaned forward to plant her hands on the table. “The second Wanda took over Westview the threat began to advance. I know she’s your daughter, but her eyes were clear when she kicked me out of town. Wanda knew exactly what she was doing. Every glitch, every change. She even controls the airwaves and blocks off what she does’t want us to see. Maximoff marched out of the Hex and threatened everyone to stay away. No ranting, no raving. She meant it. This is calculated, as much as I hate to say it. Which brings me to my next point: I’m going back in. I’m not asking you for permission. I’m just telling you. Woo will handle this side of things.”

CAROL: "Go back in so your memories can be wiped -- what purpose will that serve?"

STEVE: Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of the Accords. “The accords was just handing the reigns to someone else, all it did was shift the blame and put more paperwork in the way of the job.” he looked at Carol. “It was never about keeping anyone safe. You can put as many contingency plans in place as you want, but I’ve seen enough in this life to know better than to expect anything less than the unexpected.” a beat passed and Steve sighed. “ The last thing we need to focus on is why wanda is doing anything. She’s a good kid, she’s got a huge heart — i know that for a fact. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with her that’s got her head so twisted right now that she’d do this, but it doesn’t matter. What matter’s is how we fix it. When Thanos had us on our knees, Wanda came out of that portal and she was a huge part of what swung that whole fight for us. I’m done listening to anyone else shrugging off responsibility like she’s a Starbucks cup on Broadway — if you don’t want to be part of the solution — the door’s that way.” he jutted his chin in the direction for emphasis. “Now, Pietro said he was having dreams where he could communicate with Wanda — I’d say we start there since S.W.O.R.D. couldn’t even do it with the best tech on the planet. Monica, you said you were inside the Hex, right?”

BILLY: "Should her family go in?" Billy asked. "I might even be able to combat some of whatever she's doing and we could at least try to get people out."

NATASHA: For the duration of the conversation, Natasha had been sitting with her chin perched on steepled fingers. She was by Steve’s side as a silent observer, glancing up when Carol invoked the Accords and Sam called her by name. “Steve’s right.” She shrugged simply. “If this is all deliberate, it took a lot of planning. When and where did that happen? Sometimes when you want to find answers you look at the beginning. Is it possible she started small or did it instantly escalate? And the fact that S.W.O.R.D. had his body -- did anyone know that? I thought he got buried.” He deserved to be. He was their friend who had died unfairly.

MONICA: Her jaw had clenched so tightly that her head had started to ache. The lack of sleep and surplus of coffee probably had something to do with it as well. For the first time all night, Monica locked eyes with Carol but her gaze did little to soften. “Wanda changed me. My body, my genetics. Woo saw the charts. Maybe what she did will keep me safe. If not, I’m looking good in low rise jeans. I’m the only person whose gotten out. That has to mean something.” She shook her head. “So, yes. I’ve been inside. For multiple days, actually. And I think it’s a bad idea to send in anyone Wanda has a close connection to. We don’t know what she’d do to you. She literally manifested a few new versions and recast Pietro. If she won’t let her own twin in and refuses to acknowledge him, why would anyone else be different?”

STEVE: Steve appreciated Natasha every morning he woke up next to her, but there were moments like now, where he appreciated her even more. And it looked like he wasn’t the only one — from the looks of it, Pietro visibly seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders as he came to stand behind the couple. “That’s what I wanted to know, I thought from S.W.O.R.D.S intel, Wanda didn’t even seem to know Wanda was in control until a few days ago. As far as I was tracking, Maximoff only just recently became conscious of her doing.” Which if anything, gave them some semblance of hope now. As Monica spoke, Steve was carefully attentive, but at the recasting comment, he looked to the mutant in question behind him—who rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Monica has a point.” He agreed. Pietro didn’t seem to like that and all steve could do was offer him an apologetic press of his lips. “Are you saying you’re willing to go back in?” he looked back to the agent.

PETER: “Everything Agent Rambeau said makes sense to me,” Peter piped up during the briefest lull of silence, intimidated by the multiple pairs of eyes now on him, “If she let you go, she obviously had no intention of hurting you. Maybe we can use that to our advantage, maybe things’ll be different this time.”

JIMMY: “Monica is right.” Jimmy chimed in, only to take a beat with his mouth partially open as the former Captain made eye contact with him. Consider him not so jaded by the number of heroes in the room but somehow maintaining a level of professionalism even he was proud of. “Monica’s scans are more than just different, they’re concerning,” he continued “When she went in she was wearing a kevlar vest and Wanda rewrote it into a bullet proof 80’s pant suit. There’s no telling what she’ll do to anyone who goes inside.”

CAROL: "So you want to go in alone." Carol remarked. "Contingency plan?"

SCOTT: Scott eyed Agent Woo with curiosity and mild surprise, “Concerning? That’s one way to put it. This is a suicide mission.”

PIETRO: “Aceasta este o pierdere de timp.” (this is a waste of time) Pietro sighed the words heavily to himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No offense to either of you but you’ve been working on this for what? Several weeks now and still know around the same level of information as before — and the idea, the best one we have — is to send the woman my sister hurled out of her Westview and expect her to succeed in reentering the hex based on, what? Wanda’s good natured decision not to kill her?” By the time he reached the end of his sentence he was chuckling bitterly. “cel mai mare erou al lumii și nici măcar un creier printre niciunul dintre voi.” (the greatest heroes in the world and not a single brain among any of you.)

MONICA: Grabbing the bottle of water that she had discarded, Monica took a long swig as people affirmed her choice and one questioned it. “This is a few months ongoing,” she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “With recent escalation. Before it was tiny things we could brush off but Wanda’s all but declared war now. Trust me, I’m counting my lucky stars that Wanda decided to kick me out instead of erasing me from reality, cells metastasizing aside. Parker may be right. I’ve been in and I’ve come back out. That’s more than anyone else here can say. Besides,” her voice softened. “Darcy doesn’t deserve to be left there. Not after everything she’s done.” Although she almost didn’t answer, Monica crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Carol. Maria would have advised her to watch her tone, watch her mouth. It was out of respect to her dead mother that she keep the thin line of professionalism present. “Contingency plan? You guys. Find a reality warper or a magic spell. We came to you for a reason.” As Pietro began to speak his hybrid phrases, Monica rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, she let me in. That’s more than you say currently.”

LORNA: “A suicide mission?” Lorna looked between her brother and father. “The world has too many humans. Send in the bug ones and Illyana and let’s see what happens.” She snickered slightly. “I don’t speak Romanian, but he’s shit talking the hell out of you.”

PIETRO: “She thinks I’m a dead figment of her imagination. You’re an intruder that she has kept alive because she’s not a murderer. Don’t be so quick to saddle your high horse just yet.”

SUSAN: “That’s not entirely true.” Susan tapped her finger on her leg. “Wanda’s killed before, even if accidentally. The trajectory of this makes it highly probable she may again.”

CAROL: "Mouth on you," Carol remarked, rubbing her eyes. "If Wanda isn't a murderer, then Monica reentering the Hex shouldn't be a problem. The problem, actually, is phase 2. So Monica goes in, and then what? We just wait? If there was a way to reach us from inside Darcy would've figured it out. You going back in does nothing to solve our direct problem other than Wanda does finally lose it and kills you."

TOMMY: “We have a reality warper.” Tommy piped up finally, grabbing Billy by the back of his shirt and shoving him forward as he marched to the forefront. He patted Pietro on the arm as he passed him.

ABIGAIL: A brow rose. “I think she was asking for a different one, so this one has already been noted and passed over. You’re an Avenger Jr, aren’t you?”

BILLY: Billy shrugged off Tommy's grip, smoothing out the panes of his oversized shirt out of habit. "You really want me to go up against that? The best I can do is get a read on it and tell you what's going on, but in no way can I combat it."

SCOTT: Scott glared at Lorna after her thinly veiled threat, but gave Peter a knowing nod. Insults aside, if there were lives at risk, many many lives, he’d go. It’s what Cassie would want him to do.

TOMMY: “No one is asking you to fight it, just — you know—“ Tommy waved his hands around excessively “Do the wiggly woo. At least getting a read on it is more than what they’ve got.” He jabbed a finger at Monica and Woo.

MONICA: Her patience was fraying. Like she had initially said, Monica wasn’t asking for permission. “What, Carol? You want to go in and play the hero? Jimmy and I have been studying this anomaly for months -- watching the tapes, analyzing the context. I appreciate the concern but you’re a lot of things, Carol Danvers, and my mom isn’t one of them. I’m not asking for permission here and I’m willing to take that risk. Dr. Lewis is a genius, but if she’s under the spell she’s just as trapped as anyone else. My mother created S.W.O.R.D. with a purpose and Tyler Hayward is dragging its name through the mud and letting this get out of hands. I’m doing it.”

BILLY: "She'd know, Tommy. The minute I started messing with it she'd know. And I just-" he wrenched his hands together, wondering if he was making the right decision here. "-What if she keeps hurting people because we keep trying to interfere? We'd have a better chance trying to reach our recently reality created 10 year old selves."

PETER: “You can do that?” Peter raised an eyebrow, staring Billy down with renewed intensity before turning his attention to Carol and the others, “I mean, couldn’t that be your contingency plan?”

SUSAN: “You need to be careful,” Susan mused, agreeing with Billy. “Getting close to the Hex, trying to interact with it. You ‘getting a read on it’ may feel like an invasion or attack to Wanda and she’s clearly against those. I have no idea how they got a tracker on Vision. Speaking of which,” she shook her head. “We have to talk about what happened to him. He fell apart when he tried to leave. Does Wanda have his body, or is he... We have to broach the idea that the Vision is still dead and what you’ve witnessed is just a construct of him. If that’s true, Wanda’s going to have to lose him again and I’m unsure as to how she’d respond to that.”

STEVE: Steve watched Monica speak and felt the stress bound tight in her voice from across the table. He’d been thinking about it a lot since the meeting started, weighing all their options. Pietro would have been his first bet but if wanda wasn’t willing to accept him, then they had to try to find another way. Steve looked between her and Woo, nodding slowly “It’s your mission, you know it better than anyone. What do you need on our end?”

CAROL: The corner of Carol's jaw ticked, the grip of her arms crossed over her chest tightening. "Play the hero?" This was usually where Sam stepped in, indicating the rise of Carol's tone, the heat that reached her words. But her mention of the Accords had separated them and her casual retention of where Sam was in the space of the room had dissipated. "This isn't about being your mom, Monica. This is about being your teammate. You called us here, you asked us for help, and if I have questions, I'm going to damn well ask them. If you want to lead an effort against Wanda Maximoff, then act like a leader with a team behind you, not this I am an island bullshit."

TOMMY: “And what is she gonna do, Billy? Attack you? She knows we’re real. It’s just Pietro she hates for once right now.”

PIETRO: “Hey-“ Pietro swatted for him but Tommy was already on the move in anticipation.

TOMMY: Tommy zipped to the other side of Billy, knowing full well he’d only evaded Pietro’s pursuit out of sheer laziness on his part. “Don’t be a baby.” He said to his brother.

PETER: “Hey!” Peter stood up, rolling up a sleeve and quickly sending a small mass of webbing in the direction of Tommy’s torso - not to detain him or hurt him in any way, more of a message. One that said - “Don’t be a dick, dude.”

MONICA: A low hum reverberated in her throat as Monica scoffed. “Yes, playing the hero. Showing up, smashing through spaceships, saving the day. Let’s get one thing straight here, Captain Danvers. We’re not teammates. I’m not an Avenger who goes on the run or retreats into space. Jimmy and I are agents who work with boots on the ground for the dirty day to day operations you guys miss when you swing in for the big battle. And that’s not an attack on what you do. We need every piece of the puzzle. But we’re situational allies here and that means we have diametrical differences that aren’t going away.” Monica needed their help. Desperately, really. She just couldn’t handle the holier than thou mentality that came from having an Infinity Stone fuel her. “Ask your questions, Captain. If it wasn’t for us Wanda would be out there hurting more people and you would be just as clueless as when she started. I want this fixed.” Exhaling, Monica smoothed her hands over her rumpled jeans and looked to Steve. “S.W.O.R.D. has resources outside. A few less since the Hex expanded, but we’re flying blind here.”

BILLY: "I don't know." Billy admitted quietly in response to Peter. "I've been doing this for a while but it's not easy. Reality warping is...confusing and complicated and if you pull the wrong thread you could ruin everything. Break everything. The idea that there's a pair of us existing in that town with the same exact abilities is weird as hell, but we have to be connected to them, don't we?" He shifted to look at Tommy. "I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about the town, Tommy."

TOMMY: Tommy heard the shout, turned his head and — well, look, if you’re gonna throw something at a speedster, don’t give him a heads up? He took several seconds to watch the webbing slowly unfurl itself and outstretch like some weird webby hand and before it could get more than two feet from him, he was side swiping Billy in front of him, bracing for impact. Snickering before it had even hit him, by the time he realized what happened Billy would likely already have a face full of webbing. “Ah—no habla ingles!” Tommy shouted to the spider.

PETER: Peter cringed in sympathy as the webbing missed its target, nodding apologetically at Billy, “oh god —Sorry, man.”

LORNA: “I’m no expert here,” Lorna swung both of her boots towards the ground. “But it seems like she doesn’t want any connection or tie to any of us. If she’s making a perfect world with cute weird looking sons, why would she tie them to the real flawed ones she already had? It’s not like she wanted you two around.” She shoved a chair towards Tommy’s thighs with a flick of her fingers. “Sit down and shut up.”

CAROL: The classic temper that always flared during meetings like this was a blaze of heat in the back of Carol's throat. With a burst of energy she stood abruptly, knocking her chair out from behind her. "You've got a lot to say for knowing nothing at all, Monica." When had their relationship become so strained, she didn't know. But Carol was seething under her skin and it took everything not to let that out. "We're grateful to have been informed of Wanda's whereabouts and we're here to help, but we need a concrete plan before you disappear in there. I'm tired of losing people, Monica. That's all."

TOMMY: Tommy narrowed his eyes at his aunt, striking a scary resemblance to Pietro in that exact moment as they both stood with their arms crossed and a look of annoyance etched into their features. As the chair skirted across the floor toward him, he side stepped it and simple said, “Well if it isn’t the insecure one with something to say. Is this an ill directed lashing out because you’re not daddy’s favorite anymore?” Tommy snickered.

PIETRO: Pietro scoffed a laugh, stifling the smile that tugged at his features despite any actual concern for the emotional response they might elicit.

MONICA: Unable to bite her tongue, Monica took a step forward so that edge of the table dug into her thighs. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Carol.” She had been referring to her by her title, but if she wouldn’t do the same Monica was happy to drop the Captain from Danver’s name. “And some massive balls. I may not agree with you, but I wouldn’t come in front of your peers and say you know nothing at all. Because I, at the very least, maintain a sliver of respect for you.” Shaking her head, Monica took a step back. “Must be exhausting to lose people when you’ve pushed most of them away. You want a written report? Fine. I’ll type up an official dossier and email it.”

LORNA: “--I’m still the favorite.” Lorna bristled. “I’m not the one being labeled as a domestic terrorist by the government. Nor did I decimate our people. Instant points.”

STEVE: “Okay,” Steve started, gently waving his palms. “ Monica—whatever resources you need just let us know and we’ve got you covered.” Steve was doing his best to change the course of direction for the conversation before it steered to far south.

SAM: Even though he didn’t want to say anything, Sam left the spot he had found by Steve and Nat to stand opposite both Monica and Carol. “Stop. Both of you. Take a step back.” He nodded in Steve’s direction. “I’m with Rogers, Captain Rambeau. You want help, we got your back.”

TOMMY: “Ooh you’re less powerful therefore you didn’t make a huge mistake. Sick burn. I’m sure you’ve never done that before.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

BILLY: "Tommy," Billy said calmly, which was more telling than his normal, quiet voice. "All this talk about reality warping and you're getting real bold." He muttered something under his breath and the webbing dissipated. "You're just adding to the list of 'ways to make Tommy's newfound love life even more awkward than it already is." he shifted his gaze away from his brother and resettled in his seat, annoyed but throwing it off quickly. "We were never biologically hers, it makes sense why she'd want that for herself. But they're still us...aren't they?"

CRYSTALIA: The baby had needed to be fed and Crystalia had excused herself to the back of the room. She wasn’t self-conscious, but the situation was strange enough without an Inhuman royal exposing herself in the middle of a now heated conversation. “You’re acting like children.” She shook her head, Luna now out of the sling and in her arms. “Wanda is family. Vision too, I suppose. If they’re hurting it’s your responsibility to ease it.” The Inhumans had strong and pointed views about family, to say the least.

CAROL: "Yeah, this just screams respect. Drop the act-" she was ignoring both Sam and Steve at this point, her tunnel vision only focused on one thing. "-And get professional about this. Do you think I care if you respect me? Do you think I care if you think all I do is throw my abilities around to what, show off? Only show up for the big showdown? Fine. Paint whatever picture of me you want to in your mind to get you through your day, but drop it for now. This isn't about what I do or don't do with the powers, this is about resolving a hostage situation and this is the last place to bring in personal matters. Drop it, for fucks sake."

TOMMY: Tommy rolled his eyes “Please, i don’t have shame.” He waved it off and quickly resumed his serious demeanor at the comment of not actually being Wanda’s children. “Yes we were. Not in body, but soul. Otherwise, explain.” He wagged his finger between both their faces. “I bet if you tested our genetics we’d even read as twins on that. She may not have given birth to us but I shouldn’t have to explain reality warping to a reality warper. Our biological parents brought us into this world but we wouldn’t be us if it wasn’t for her. All I’m saying is she isn’t going to destroy you for the version she made in there — on some level she knows it isn’t real. she’s not going to hurt you.”

SCOTT: Scott could tell Crystalia was feeling a bit restrained by the presence of her infant daughter. Being a parent himself, the instinct to help was all too powerful, and he stepped toward the Inhuman royal and gently tapped the redhead on the shoulder, “Mind if I—?” Gesturing to Luna, he gave her the option to free herself up for a brief bit.

PIETRO: Pietro’s eyes instantly narrowed at Scott as he so much as breathed near Crystalia, much less the baby. In a small gust of wind, he appeared behind the ant man, hands clasped comfortably behind his back. Pietro cleared his throat.

CRYSTALIA: She was a bit taken aback when her shoulder was tapped, but Crystal only blinked once before handing the baby over without much of a second thought. She had been raised by wet nurses. While she wanted to more present she still found the constant extra assistance had made her a little lackadaisical in who had the baby. Noticing that Pietro had moved behind Scott, Crystal shrugged. “He offered. She wouldn’t stop screaming before we got here.”

PIETRO: Pietro watched in horrific slow motion as Crystalia....simply....handed...Luna over. He gaped at her from behind Scott, quickly masking the gut struck shock as he quickly became irritated. “Ah—who the hell is this?” Pietro asked, tilting his head at the strange man holding his daughter.

CRYSTALIA: “--he’s....” Crystal looked to the man holding her week old daughter in hope’s that he would finish the sentence. “One of the good guys if he’s here. And he knows how to hold a baby.”

PIETRO: “Two theories in which you decided to test at once with our newborn child?” His brows slipped up into his hairline.

SCOTT: Scott gently accepted the baby and cradled her against his shoulder, memories of holding Cassie as an infant came flooding back instantly. He glanced at Pietro for a moment, then back at Crystalia, “I’ve got a daughter of my own - “ he replied, careful not to speak over the greater conversation, “ - it’s instinct at this point.” A warm grin was sent in the mother’s direction as Scott’s gentle swaying lulled the baby into a much calmer state, “See? Nothing to worry about.”

MONICA: There were so many instances in her life where Monica had learned to choke back her rage and dampen the sparks in her blood that were waiting to turn into an inferno. Maria had taught her daughter a lot about what it looked like to be a Black woman in modern America and the privileges they were denied -- especially when it came to perception and actions. Carol had none of those restraints and she blew up - literally and physically - whenever she felt like it. Not Monica. She didn’t have that daily luxury. “Once, Carol,” her voice was tired. “I did. It would have meant the world to me. You were one of my favorite people in the galaxy and I cared so goddamn much. It sucks to grow up. It’s because of my mother -- because of Maria that I put your name on the invite list. Because she means everything to me, no matter how I feel about you. I’m being polite because that is what my mother instilled in me. Common courtesy, respect. There’s a lot I want to say but I ain’t got nothing to drop here. Captain Wilson. Rogers.” She clasped her hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms. “Thank you. Do you have any kind of monitoring tech available?”

TOMMY: “Billy. c’mere.” Tommy placed a hand on either shoulder and brought his brother a verging on uncomfortable proximity. He stared straight into his eyes. “Why would Wanda destroy the town she wants to live a fake life in to save it? How does that make sense?”

PETER: Peter tentatively approached Scott, Crystalia, and Pietro, “That’s Scott Lang. Ant-Man. He’s a good dude. Trust me,” he noted, reassuringly as they watched Scott continue tending to the child. “He’s a bit weird,” Peter shrugged, watching with confusion as Scott began singing some gibberish of a lullaby, “—but you have nothing to worry about. Promise.”

CAROL: For a brief, inkling of a moment, Carol felt herself deflate, the tender memories of her brief stint on Earth back in the 90's reforming in her mind. She'd never truly forgotten them, but Carol wasn't a selfish hero that swooped in for glory and fame. She cared about the souls she saved, and that had built so many relationships in her mind that she'd momentarily lapsed on why Monica, of all people, would be so callous and cold. Instead of inflating again, like she happened to do naturally, Carol simply closed her mouth and sat back down, grinding her molars as the anger rolled through her.

STEVE: Steve nodded “We do.We can get you and Woo set up in one of our intel rooms upstairs, should have anything you’d need.” he said to Monica.

BILLY: Staring into a face that was damn near identical to his own save for a few minor cosmetic differences was something Billy would never get used to, not even after spending almost 5 years with Tommy as a twin. They had a natural connection, one they'd always had since being born, but it'd never made sense until they were face to face. He sighed again, rubbing thin fingers into his eyes and down his cheeks. "Wanda wants Vision. Wanda wants her kids. Wanda doesn't care about the fact that we're right here -- we've always been right here, Tommy. I know it's not the same for her, I can't argue that, but if we try to take that away from her, or if she thinks we are, she might just say fuck it and poof," he made a motion with his hands. "If she can't have it no one can, you know?"

SAM: The deescalation was already underway. Sam still crouched by Carol’s chair, dark head bowing towards hers. “Cool off. Whatever family drama you got, let it go.” He knew about Maria Rambeau. Monica too, by extension. He just didn’t know where it went south. “You really think the Sokovian Accords are relevant here, huh?”

PIETRO: “Ant-man.” he repeated, musing over the name. Pietro looked at the kid with the webs and surveyed him up and down. “I don’t know you either.” Tolerating the scene before him for only several more seconds, Pietro had lost the thin thread of patience he’d been holding on to, to being with. “I’d like it if you handed me my daughter back, now.” Pietro said. It wasn’t exactly a secret he was obnoxiously protective, and if anyone had thought that was annoying with Wanda, they were in for it with Luna. Actual light of his life.

SCOTT: Scott paused in his subtle rocking of the child against his shoulder, nodding at Pietro’s repeating of his hero moniker, “Mhm. That’s the name, don’t wear it out,” he joked, but his light expression fell when the speedster all but demanded his child back, “Oh, uh - sure, yeah. Of course.” He was only trying to help, but not one to want to get on someone’s bad side, he quickly acquiesced, gently passing Luna to her father.

CAROL: Carol's gaze flicked to Sam, the anger from her confrontation with Monica still present beneath her skin. She tried to reign it in, but it felt impossible in the moment. "The Accords were put on the table for a reason, Sam. We watched Wanda's powers get out of control the first time and she killed innocent people. Now she's taken a town hostage. I understand what you and Rogers fought for, but it's not ridiculous to think that maybe regulating abilities is more important than free rein. She's hurting people, Sam. She's destroying families, all for a fake life. If we had regulations in place before this, this wouldn't have happened."

CRYSTALIA: “Pietro.” Crystalia sighed, watching the baby get passed from one set of hands to the other. “Thank you, Mr. Lang. I appreciate it. It’s exhausting to be a mother at these functions.” That being said, it was really her first time with the baby in public and she felt oddly self-conscious about being seen in the light of motherhood.

PETER: The friendly smile on Peter’s face quickly dropped as Pietro briefly addressed him. As heroes go, he was pretty well known, in more ways than one unfortunately, and Peter could say the same for Quicksilver. The rebuke stung briefly, but Peter shook it off, turning his attention back to the growing conflict at hand, concealed web shooters at the ready if need be.

SCOTT: Scott nodded to Crystalia politely, opting to ignore Pietro, “I understand completely. If you need anything else - just ask.”

PIETRO: His demeanor relaxed the moment Luna was pulled into his arms. In truth, it had nothing to do with Scott — he didn’t like anyone holding his daughter, much less strangers. He’d barely let Erik look at her. “Why do they call you Ant-man?” Pietro asked scott, a deep crease forming between his brows. “Do you...turn into an ant?” he asked puzzled. Then he looked at Peter “And you—what is that you shot at my nephew earlier?”

SAM: “You know who I am.” Sam’s voice was gentle but firm. “You know what I believe in and what I don’t. Even with regulations, Wanda could have gone rogue. We needed better support systems, ways to handle trauma. I was a PTSD group leader and I didn’t even check in on my friends the way I should.” Why was it, still, that Sam felt everyones wellbeing was his duty? “Wanda’s powerful enough to get around Accords or laws. We knew that. We knew her, and now we’ve got to help. Coming to blows with Rambeau won’t do anything on that front.”

SCOTT: “Oh,” Scott spun around to face Pietro, mildly shocked the speedster was addressing him again, “Ha, I wish—“ he joked, but the tone quickly fell flat, “—uh, no actually. I can shrink. Really really small. Subatomic even. Although, that? Not as fun. So not as fun.”

CAROL: Carol kept her gaze affixed to his, finally relinquishing the tension in her shoulders and letting out a breath through her nose. "We've seen what this world looks like with no laws in place and now we see what Krakoa looks like with laws in place. It's hard not to compare the two." In this instance, she was speaking generally, not about Wanda in particular. "We had no clue what happened. We had an agency reach out to us to tell us that one of our own had become a terrorist. There's too many of us for one man, even two-" she was referring to Sam and Steve in that moment, "-to keep track of. Too many for any of us to keep track of. We need better support systems and we need better regulations on abilities. Sam, we can't have people like Wanda or Jean Grey running around freely. Do you not remember what happened with the Phoenix?"

PETER: Peter was reluctant to reveal his web shooters, instinctively tugging his sweatshirt sleeves down past his wrists, his hands practically swimming in the fabric, “Just web fluid,” he addressed Pietro as well, ever so slightly timid in his response, “My own invention.”

PIETRO: Pietro’s look of confusion remained as he mused over lang’s response. “What does that do? —getting small.” He was genuinely curious. “Might someone....step on you?” He asked.

SAM: He leaned back slightly, thighs aching dully. It had been leg day, unfortunately. Almost every day was now. “No offense, Carol, but you really don’t. You weren’t here. Ultron, Sokovia, the Accords. You weren’t here and we were, tryin’ to make it by.” He pursed his lips together. “I believe in justice. Balance, order. But we can’t have them running around freely? Really, Carol? What do you propose? They get locked up for the rest of their lives? For the most part they didn’t ask for it and they’re good intentioned. I know Wanda. Well, actually. No matter how big this mess, she’s still a person.”

PIETRO: When the boy answered him, he watched him tug at his sleeves while Luna played with Pietro’s pale hair.  “You made that? By yourself?”

CAROL: She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "No, of course not. We knew Wanda had reality warping abilities. We did nothing about it. We just let her...be. Now let me ask you something -- that kid over there," she gestured towards Billy again. "He loses that boyfriend he cares so much about. Who's to say he wouldn't do the same exact thing for the same reason? Maybe he loses Tommy too and we end up in Westview 2.0. But we knew all along he could warp reality and we just....trust he'll never do anything nefarious with it? There has to be a middle ground here, Sam. We can't just pretend like good people won't go bad. Especially when those people have powers that could destroy everything."

SCOTT: “Suuure?” Scott replied, wary of the implication, “But I don’t know if I’d recommend it. I’m pretty damn strong at that size. You know how ants are... it’s the schtick.”

TOMMY: At the second jab at Billy, Tommy got mad. “Hey!—“Tommy slapped two hands on the table and stared Carol down directly. “What is your problem? My brother hasn’t done shit. You’re the one with an atomic bomb rolling around inside you and you’re sitting here prattling on about people being too dangerous to go on freely. You’ve been on this planet for what, like two seconds and already you’re trying to get people kicked off it?”

PETER: Peter knew the silver haired man had seen them - he wasn’t doing too good of a job at being stealthy. But the risk of this backfiring on him didn’t feel super high. His spidey senses weren’t on high alert anymore, so what was the harm? Showing the tech to Pietro, he smiled softly, boundlessly proud of the creation that had become so ingrained in his being, “Yeah, I did. Took a while to figure the web formula out,” he gently prodded at the trigger, but not hard enough to release any webbing, “-and the rest is history.”

ERIK: “With all due respect, Miss Grey is a matter of Mutant relations and will be kept out of this conversation. Especially from the mouths of those that don’t actually understand her situation or the trials she has faced involving the Phoenix Force.” Erik had been quiet for some time, choosing the diplomatic approach of listening so that he could later inform the Council and Charles of the matters involving Wanda.

PIETRO: “No, not really. I’m not overly familiar with ants.” Pietro admitted, and he was still struggling to figure out how being tiny was useful. “So shrink, but get stronger?” he cocked his head.

CAROL: That was it, the last shred of patience Carol had. She stood so quickly her chair kicked back far enough away that there was little hope of her reseating again before this meeting commenced. "We're talking about the fact that your mother is destroying people's lives and we could do nothing to stop it because we had no means to. You think that couldn't easily happen again?" She shifted her gaze to Billy, who was straightening his shoulders, unperturbed by her eyes on him. "We always put our faith in the good guys and then the good guys lose a couple of people and we get our asses kicked. People die. We bury them. We memorialize them. We mourn them. And then we rinse and repeat the process and at some point it needs to fucking stop." God she was so angry again. "

TOMMY: “It won’t, and I hate to break it to you but if you can’t stomach it, get out then. Go live on some other planet somewhere like you did before. We’re perfectly capable of handling it on our own. You keep throwing Wanda around like she woke up one day and decided to take over a bunch of peoples lives and didn’t just wake up in that fucking bubble and have to figure it out at she went along. We’ve all got shit — we all lose people. I blew up a fucking school on accident the first time I got my powers and they stuck me in a prison and poked and prodded me with needles and metal. Is that what you fucking want!? You want all of us to get locked up becuase we make you scared!? You sound like the mutant haters and we have plenty of them! We don’t need more.” He was yelling now, his temper well past a peak. His hands were beginning to shake and as much as he’d love to blast the fucking table into a billion splinters it’d just prove her right. he waved his hands around as they spasmed “Oh no, I better not fuck anything up or Carol’s gonna come put me in fucking jail—what, you’ve never fucked up Danvers??? You never made a mistake? Must be fucking nice!” By now Steve had stood and started to pull Tommy away, and Tommy did little to fight him, though it was bold of the former Captain to touch him right now considering it could destabilize him in a blink.

STEVE: “Alright, take a couple breaths.” Steve told him.

CRYSTALIA: As Carol once again blew up Crystal edged closer to Pietro, reaching out to take her daughter. “Give me my baby.” She commanded gently, knowing Pietro was more likely to get involved in the situation.

PIETRO: Pietro handed Luna over to Crystalia and stayed firmly planted in front of them — his nephew certainly had his temper and a few abilities he hadn’t even discovered yet. “He’s fine.” Pietro assured her.

WANDA: They were gathering. Of course they were gathering. It had only been a matter of time. Still, shivers ran down in her spine as she was doused with the cold dread that hid under the silver screen smile she had glued on. Monica’s time in Westview had left an imprint of sorts, an afterimage Wanda could still trace. They had stood outside the Hex and threatened her. Now they were calling to arms less than a hundred miles away and she was laying in her bed staring at the ceiling, half tempted to speed up time so it was morning and the opening credits could roll. Vision was still beside her. Synthezoid's didn’t sleep, per se, but they did turn off at night to process the days information. With a heavy sigh she rolled out of bed and wrapped her body in her robe, the ever throbbing vein of anger that had pulsed through her for the last two months rapidly gaining speed. Red ate its way across the town as everyone stilled in their beds. Would they dream? Maybe. Maybe she would let them as she made her way past Ellis Ave. The border glowed red with static as she approached, one palm resting against it. The Hex was alive. It hummed and spoke to her, reality warping under her fingertips before it bent and allowed her to cross through. Her robe and pajamas were gone, replaced with her corset and long coat. The flight to their location took little time but felt like an eternity. For every second she was away from her home there was a paralyzing fear that someone would sneak in and erase all her hard work. Boots touched down on the gum crusted sidewalk only a second before she snapped her wrists and red broke the door open. “It’s not nice,” she strode in as the wind from the now broken door blew in. “To speak about someone when they’re not present. Not like this.” Some faces there were familiar but her blinders were on. “I told you to leave me alone. That was your warning. I took care of S.W.O.R.D. Don’t make me turn you into clowns as well.”

PIETRO: Maybe he felt her coming before she did — or maybe he was still on edge from the outburst between Carol and Tommy, but every hair on his body stood up on end just seconds before she came through the door. A heavy blanket of ice chilled the room to a stand still and he half expected to see his breath fog up the air as he exhaled. His hand stilled on Crystalia as he stared at her, Wanda — and then. and then, and then, and then — before he could even think about thinking about it, he was standing in front of her. a little gust of wind kicked a few tendrils of her strawberry red hair and he just stared at her. For several seconds it was like water stilling in a lake, his chest rose and fell to the rhythm of hers and for the first time in six years they breathed the same airspace. “Wanda....” he was afraid to speak, like his voice would blow the mirage away and he’d have hallucinated the whole thing.

CAROL: Every bone in her body was demanding, insisting, Carol send a flare of energy over her limbs, but as she turned to face Wanda, she commanded her abilities to stay down, deep down. The last thing they needed was a confrontation, not when Wanda could erase the very fabric of their existence. She followed Pietro with her eyes but made no move at all, which was an unnatural but strategic response.

STEVE: When the door blasted open, Steve half thought Tommy blew a fuse—or Carol, but to be fair he was the one shaking violently. When he turned and saw Wanda walk in, his jaw nearly dropped. Then, instantly, his head snapped to Pietro — only to find his spot empty. Instead, the twins stood toe to toe in the center of the room and everyone held their breath praying it’d be enough.

BILLY: Billy rose slowly from his seat, gently tugging on the sleeve of Tommy's shirt as he did so. Taking a step back, he watched Wanda carefully as he spoke lowly to his brother. "She left the town. Tommy, we have an opportunity."

WANDA: Monster. Terrorist. Out of her mind. Monster. Delusional --. Everyone had an opinion, didn’t they? Ratings were hard to keep up. The world was composed of critics and this was no different. If there was one thing that could have stilled her to silence it was him. The only problem was that he was’t here. Here he was, her twin, haunting her waking dreams. “Not now, frate,” she tsked. Still, one hand rose as if to brush his cheek before falling to her side. Her train of thought was derailed when she saw the twins, heads bent towards one another in that familiar tableau of mischief. “Boys?” Surprise laced her voice, accent instantly falling away to be replaced with the smooth American syllables they knew her to have. “Why aren’t you at home?”

CRYSTALIA: It was out of instinct that Crystal took a step back, tucking Luna against herself. Wanda had no reason to hurt the baby, but she still felt a sharp maternal instinct. She was outmatched. That went without question.

TOMMY: Tommy was in shock to see her to say the least, and if it weren’t for Billy tugging on his shirt, he may have stood there with his mouth agape until drool came out of it. It took him a quarter of a second to process the words after they’d left his mouth, but as he did he wasted no time — Tommy grabbed Billy by the back of the shirt and jerked them both to a more hidden corner of the room. With Steve, Natasha, Sam, Carol, and —jesus christ, everyone gathered around their mother, they made for a good wall. “Do it.”

LORNA: Nearly falling out of her chair, Lorna straightened up and looked to Erik for guidance. Her hands clenched into fists, green nearly sparking from them. If she hadn’t been afraid of Wanda seeing and overreacting she would have done something. Instead, she just stayed wary with the metal chairs on standby.

PIETRO: As Wanda addressed him, a wave of — something settled in his stomach, like spoiled milk. It took the breath out of his lungs and nearly dazed him. He stared at her, for once his brain struggled to process the moments at all, much less quickly. He’d waited for this, wanted it for weeks now— months. It’d been an ache that never fully left him. It rose with him when he pried himself out of bed in the morning and it snaked through his blood stream when he went to sleep at night. The dismissal was killing him. “Wanda, please. Just talk to me for five minutes, hmm? — five minutes.” he’d lost the delicate approach from before, too easily slipping into the comfort of being able to take hold of her wrist, he nearly held it to his chest, once again coming between his sister and the mix of Avengers and X-Men behind him. “I know you think this isn’t real, I know, but it is — I can prove it. lasă-mă să te aduc acasă. nu trebuie să fii singur. nu esti singur.” (let me bring you home, you don’t have to be alone. you’re not alone.)

BILLY: Billy blinked dumbly at this woman he'd had tea with regularly only a few months before - until the two days a week meetings turned into one and then turned into every other week, and then once a month, and then not at all. Billy had Teddy and Tommy had his new relationship he wasn't doing much to hide and Billy was still experimenting with his abilities --- he'd chosen to fall into the busy life and not wonder about what Wanda was up to. She was so smart, and capable, and strong. He just assumed she was busy, like he inevitably was. He heard her accent slip away and for the briefest of moments, Billy wanted to step towards her, wanted to lean in to the warmth and concern in her tone. This was the woman holding a town hostage? This was the...terrorist? Swallowing, Billy opened his mouth to speak, "Wa-Mom, what are you do-" but before he could finish, Tommy was pulling him back, knocking him right back into his senses. "Did you not feel that?" Billy asked his brother, his hand coming up to rub against his chest, momentarily forgetting what his original plan had been.

TOMMY: Tommy’s body froze as Wanda addressed them. Similarly to the way a toddler would if his mother caught him on the chair digging into the cookie jar. It was a warmth that crept over the back of his brain, tangled with the twinge of a burn — like alcohol slipping down his throat. Warm, but uncomfortable. “I don’t like this.” Tommy muttered to his brother. He felt like a mouse in front of a hawk and all he wanted to do was turn invisible — why?? Why couldn’t that be his power. Tommy’s grip tightened on Billy’s shirt and his legs twitched with the urge to fucking bolt to James right then and there. but he didn’t. His knees locked up and he just fucking stood there. “Billy, do something.”

PETER: Everyone was walking on eggshells right now, and Wanda’s startling shift in tone and accent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine. But he didn’t let up, eyes flicking around the room to gauge any potential items of use he could web and fling in Wanda’s direction. The only other thing on his mind right now was how horribly horribly wrong this could all go. Wanda could sneeze and erase them all from existence if she really wanted to, and MJ’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, offering him words of encouragement wrapped in her usual dry wit. It was something positive to latch onto, but it didn’t do much to quell the absolute panic in Peter’s bones.

WANDA: She had a purpose. Of course she had a purpose if she had come all this way from the comfort of her warm bed, next to her loving husband while her two boys slept in a nearby room. That was where she belonged. Not here in this dirty room with people who wanted to burn her at the stake like a common witch. They didn’t get it. They didn’t have to. In the end, they didn’t matter. None of them mattered. Not when she finally got to make the rules. “I don’t have five minutes,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Then his hand was on her wrist and her body was spinning to face him, face to chest. How many times had she rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing becoming more even as he guided her through the panic? Pietro had always been there... until he hadn’t. He was gone and she was tugging her hand away from him. “I have a home.” She replied firmly in English, tone glossy and bright. “I have a family. A husband, a brother. Sons. And that’s real. This? All of this is irrelevant. You can keep it. I know what I want.” Gloved hands coming together, Wanda drew them apart as a line of red magic extended between the appendages before shooting across the room. Scarlet covered the surfaces as they became clean and put together. It looked the conference room in the Avengers Compound before Thanos had destroyed it. Her mind pieced together glass and metal furniture as it remembered one of the last places she had been put on a public trial. The ripple that crossed the room moved the people to the side, a path clearing between Wanda and her sons. “I’m sure none of this makes sense,” she spoke slowly as if aiming to not spook them. “I can explain it in the morning. Your father is going to be worried.” There were threads moving between her and the twins, connecting the three in magic. Wanda funneled the time she had spent with the new twins towards them, reality slowly webbing them in. “And he won’t be happy you aged yourself again. Let’s go home.” She was standing before them then, arms extended.

TOMMY: You know, he was kind of hoping Pietro would have pulled it off. “Oh, no—n-n-no” he could feel her creeping in, it was like trying to outrun a hurricane with his thoughts, he could feel them all slipping away like walking into a room and forgetting why. Just when he’d find something else to hold on to, it’d slip away in exchange for another—and another, and another. The room started to shift and he felt the panic bubble up. It was like drowning on land. Tommy felt himself get ripped forward, and it didn’t matter what he did there was no escaping it. What little still stuck around from his current life had him gripping onto the ledge of the table for dear fucking life until the fear of losing his grip became so great, it just obliterated right out from beneath his finger tips. He gasped, sent one last look to billy and then that was it. Curtains drawn. Lights out. Let the credits roll.

PETER: Everything that had been moving in slow motion was now progressing much too quickly for Peter’s liking. Grunting in frustration with the others as the red magic pushed them aside, Peter watched the Scarlet Witch approach the twins. Her comment on their ages didn’t bode well, but neither did the ‘let’s go home.’ Before he could formulate another thought however, Tommy vanished in the blink of an eye, and Peter panicked, surging forward with a shout, “Wanda! Wanda, wait!”

BILLY: Billy could feel the familiar weave of magic as it mingled with his own, his mutant abilities reaching out to greet Wanda's like an embrace after years of being apart. The walls around him were tinted a shade of yellow, slightly dulled by a stream of pale light. He could hear the patter of feet across hardwood floor right onto carpet and the familiar burnt smell of toast filled his senses. But it felt so welcoming, so warm. At some point, Billy had reached down and interlocked his fingers with Tommy, so when he took a step forward, his own magic reaching out to meet Wanda's, he was pulling Tommy along with him, his eyes fixed on Wanda's glowing red hues. "Dad," his voice didn't sound like his own, but the magic swirling around him was so familiar and comfortable he couldn't even find the urge to resist it. "He'll be so worried." They were only a few steps away from Wanda then and Billy reached out with his free hand, extending it towards her. "Let's go home." he parroted.

WANDA: It was a sweet relief when the twins relented. Wanda loved them in an intense, soul crushing sort of way. She had been thankful to not know loss in her life ( her parents. pietro. the vision. )  and the idea of losing them sent her reeling. What would she do if they were gone? She couldn’t even pretend to know. It was Tommy she reached first, his embrace brief as she felt his mind slip away. Tommy, her first born. Billy, the one Vision had loved so dearly that she had no choice but to manifest in her womb, the perfect counterpart for her son. Billy understood. He was a sensitive boy and the red light in her eyes were reflected in his own. “He loves you dearly, you know that.” She leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Take care of your brother. I’ll see you two in the morning.” With that the image of the boys flashed red as static overtook their body and they dissolved from sight. Eyes returning to green, Wanda glanced around the room. “Sorry about that. Kids, am I right?” Her laugh was strained as she looked to the boy who had burst out. “I’m sorry, where were we?”

PETER: Peter swallowed harshly, reaching up to remove the hat from his head, hair mussed with sweat. Fiddling with the brim in a gesture more akin to some starving Victorian orphan, Peter proceeded with utmost caution, “Wanda! You don’t have to do this. You’re not alone out here. I promise. Bring Tommy and Billy back, Wanda. Please.”

CAROL: Carol watched the twins dissipate with a slightly widened expression, one that didn't betray too much but her sheer shock was simmering just below the surface. "Wanda," she said, almost breathlessly, having watched the only person with first hand knowledge of her abilities willingly disappear into Wanda's fake world. "Wanda what did you do,"

PIETRO: Watching it all was one thing, but to do so slowly? Even worse. He knew it’d been a shot in the dark, but he didn’t think here and now with all these minds available to her that she’d still just see a ghost. Her mind was so imbedded in West View he couldn’t even feel her slinking around in his head like he used to. Not that she ever violated his privacy but it wasn’t like he’d ever put up a wall between them. And to be honest neither had she, not until now.  But she couldn’t avoid him forever. Try as she might there was a subconscious part of her that was reaching for him, there had to be. Because he wasn’t the one initiating a dream cycle every night. Couldn’t if he tried. He watched her take them, tendrils of red reaching out with sticky fingers to take the twins. Pietro watched Tommy struggle, wincing in the opposite direction as Billy seemed more accepting. And as the scarlet in the room faded out, he exhaled heavily from his seat on the floor, a weight settling down on broad shoulders. Well, fuck. “Fine.” he scoffed. “You don’t want to talk now.” he stood, nodding his head as he moved to the edge of her vision once more, only this time several feet of space separated them. “We’ll talk later. You can’t run from me—” he leaned forward some then to meet her gaze—if she would. “I’m faster.” The edge of his lip quirked just a fraction of a hair despite the bitterness and hurt that ebbed beneath. You can pretend i’m dead in your little bubble with your awful version of me, but you find me when you need me. he thought the words rather than say them, but there was no telling if she’d heard him. he took two steps back from her, falling back into place beside Crystalia and Luna.

WANDA: “You know,” one hand momentarily covered Wanda’s mouth as she thought. “The twins do need more friends. The neighborhood has been so quiet.” The boys leaving had shattered part of her illusion. They were gone and she wasn’t just Wanda Maximoff: mom anymore. She was the Scarlet Witch and this wasn’t a game, theatrics aside. Her real voice was lower, heavier. It betrayed just how much she had seen, even if the words seemed disjointed to the tone. “Thank you for volunteering.” She pointed at Peter for a split second before the Hex sucked him up, personality absorbing into the barrier. He wouldn’t wake up right away in his new bed with his new life. Unlike the twins he would be in a holding pattern, stuck in stasis until she could cast him. In that moment there was just too much going on to focus on anything except what was in front of her and keeping the town frozen. “I sent them home.” Wanda drifted through the crowd, gaze passing blankly over her father and sister. “Back to Westview, where they belong.” She paused at the sight of an infant, face softening. “And what are you doing here? She’s so little. God, I miss these days. They go by so quickly.” Way too quickly in the Maximoff case. She blinked and they were grown. The mother of the baby made a motion of protest when Wanda reached out, but red glowed underneath her temple and she handed the baby over wordlessly. “We can make this easy,” Wanda kept her gaze trained down on the sleeping face, her magic keeping the infant asleep. “But you need to let it go.”

PIETRO: No—n-n- no, no, no. His entire body went rigid as Wanda took Luna. He could have never imagined a moment in his life where he’d have believed for even a second that the sight of his baby in his twin’s arms would terrify him. Yet here he was. “Give her back.” he appeared beside them both then, voice splitting into a tremor. His already rabid heart stammered against his sternum as his tongue went dry in his mouth. He couldn’t even think straight,  “Wanda, te rog — ea este a mea.” (please. she’s mine.). The knot that formed in his throat made it difficult to breath, bleeding his fear out into every shaky exhale. He’d been terrified a number of times in his life, but this one was coming uncomfortably close to bringing him right back to Sokovia, when he was 10 with a bomb three feet from his face. “Let her go, both of them. I’m begging you. For me. Please.” He couldn’t look anymore, his eyes shut and he just hoped with everything in him she’d let them both go.

WANDA: Home was where the heart was, and right then her heart was aching to return home. This wasn’t her reality anymore. It was gray and dull. It lacked the carefully curated sheen of Westview. In some ways Wanda had become a puppet with scarlet strings tying her to the town. She couldn’t escape it even if she wanted to. But the boys were home now, the Vision as well. Even Pietro, as unsettling as his new face was. She finally had something to live for again and it pained her to be away from it. Kissing the crown of the babies head, Wanda handed her back to her motionless mother. “If she’s yours, Pietro, she belongs with her father and he’s back in Westview.” There was a flash of red before Crystal’s arms were empty and the Inhuman started back into motion.

MONICA: “Wanda.” Monica shoved her way to the front. “Stop. That was his baby. Your brothers baby. You have to give her back.” Her voice was firm, shoulders rolled back. Maybe it was too late to try and fix things, but they couldn’t combust. “She won’t hurt her.” Monica turned towards Pietro slightly. “That’s not what the Hex does, and she’s little. She’s okay.”

CRYSTALIA: One minute she was holding Luna and the next her arms were empty. There was a gap in the middle where Wanda had blocked everything off but now her eyes were wide. “---Where is my baby? Luna. You have to bring her back.”

PIETRO: “I’M HER FATHER!” the roar that erupted from his chest was explosive to say the least, and a volume that which he had never used with her before. “Why are you doing this to me!?” He could barely register Monica’s presence much less her words at this point. “You said metastasizing cells.” He whipped around to acknowledge Monica for the briefest of seconds, only to remind her of the very dangers she’d been so keen on expressing earlier. “What is this, huh — “ He looked back at Wanda “you want me to feel as alone as you did when I died, is that it, ah?” The emotions here piling on top of one another now, a mass of raw nerves that had been exposed day in and day out for weeks now and she just lit the match. On the verge of tears, the way he looked at her now, the betrayal dug deep into the lines of his face . Defeat hollowed him out. “I can’t even look at you.”

CRYSTAL: “And I’m her mother.” Pietro was yelling but Crystalia couldn’t stop crying. It was her fault. She had been holding the baby. She had let Luna go. Unable to look at Pietro, she moved towards his twin and clasped her red clad arm. “She’s two weeks old. She needs her mother. You have to send me to be with her.” Did she trust Wanda? Not in the slightest. The people in her Hex were suffering. Crystalia would suffer every day if she needed to if it meant her daughter wasn’t being neglected or forced to live with a new mother. The Inhumans could live without their Princess. Pietro could live without whatever she was to him. Crystal could not fathom living without Luna. “Please.”

WANDA: He had never yelled at her before. Never raised his voice, never yelled. Maybe snapped, but this was different. Why would a dream yell at her like that? Look at her in such utter disgust? Tears welled in Wanda’s eyes. They were always there, waiting to fall. She had hurt him judging by his response. The scarlet whisper told her it didn’t matter, but it did. He was her twin. Half of her heart, she had always said. For a moment she actually considered what it would mean if he was here and she had crossed the line of stealing his child. But that couldn’t be right. Pietro was home. He had an American accent. He was wrong, wrong, wrong. Pietro was --- Lip trembling, Wanda took a step back. Her tears had always ended their fights as children but this exceeded that. “I -- I’m trying to make people happy. She’s happy. She’s where she should be.” No, Wanda. You’re trying to make you happy. Don’t forget it. Blinking, she looked down at the hand on her arm. Light eyes trailed up her form before the Princess dissolved in red as well. “See? Just making everyone happy.”

PIETRO: For a moment he was conflicted — immediately regretful of yelling at her like that, but then glad that he had because for several seconds she seemed...present. And for a singular beat, his heart thudded with a flicker of hope—and then it was gone. It faded right out of him just as Crystalia slipped away, red tendrils swirling and evaporating like smoke. He felt stunned, akin to the aftermath of a bomb and the way his ears would ring and the world felt like it was held at an arms length. Several breaths went by and he didn’t know if he should be relieved Crystalia was with Luna or devastated they were both gone. His gaze trained vacantly in the space where she’d been, and when they shifted to Wanda they were not more lively. Merely pools of exhaustion and the soul draining fear of thinking he may actually never see either of them again. Whether they’d be different — his realities versions — or something else....if they survived. “You’re not making any one happy. You just took it.” The words fell out of his mouth with out a whisper of emotion and he turned away from her. As he walked away, he felt beyond heavy, and he didn’t have it in him to run.

WANDA: Her lips pursed together, the resole that had driven her there once again energizing her weary bones. “I’m leaving now.” She announced. “And I hope you realize how serious I am about all of this. I have what I want. No one is taking that from me.” Desperation threaded her voice, words cracking slightly. “So I’ll amend my policy. Westview is wonderful. Some of you would really enjoy a visit. Besides, it’s about time for my family to show up. People keep asking. I’m European and that’s apparently funny, but they need faces.” She also needed people with the power to stop her or the ones who could have ideas off the table. “Welcome to Westview.” She smiled at the group, serene before her magic erupted around the room. Abigail Brand, that S.W.O.R.D. director. Bucky and Sam, two familiar faces. Steve, who had always been there for her. Erik and Lorna to complete the picture of a happy family. Magik, who had threatened to stab her. Susan Storm, that scientist. They all flickered red and disappeared. The rest were left in the wake of her magic, the sound of static that had been growing louder now softening to a whisper in the background. She had been sloppy, slightly. She knew others who weren’t in the room had been pulled into the Hex as well but she’d deal. Wanda tilted her chin up in defiance. “They’re happy. They’re safe.” Lie. Maybe truth. “Leave me alone. Leave Vision alone. Don’t hurt us again.” Without waiting for a response Wanda turned, red propelling her in flight out of the room and back towards her quickly growing home.

NATASHA: Left in the aftermath, it felt all too much like the dead silent moments after Thanos had snapped his fingers the first time. Her husband was gone. He had been sitting right next to her but there wasn’t even a pile of ash left behind. “Wanda.” Her voice fell flat, knowing Wanda was gone and wouldn’t hear her. She shook her head, trying to catch her breath and remain calm. “Shit.”

SCOTT: Mouth agape, Scott stood by, staring at the place where Crystalia and her baby once stood, the spot now empty. Blinking slowly, he glanced around at the others, the silence deafening, “—- now what?”

MONICA: Breaking into a jog, Monica made it to the door and stuck her head out. “Maximoff!” She called at his retreating form. “Wanda just kidnapped your daughter and a foreign royal along with a handful of Avengers. The only time I saw anything out of Wanda was when you snapped. We need you. Luna needs you. That being said, she was still going in. She had to, especially if Wanda had upped the ante like that. “We’re going to fix this.” Her voice wavered slightly as she addressed Scott. “We’re going to -- we’re going to get this under control, okay? We’re going to keep it together.” That was aimed at Pietro. Of course it was Steve and Sam ( who had vowed to help Monica ) who had been taken. “We’ll get equipment, monitor the show. They may be trapped but we can see them. Wanda will show us if they’re okay. We don’t know that everyone in Westview will have the same biological response as me. It could have been from being thrown through the barrier.” Could have also been the former, but she was trying to ease frayed nerves. “And then we’re going to fight like hell because she doesn’t get to take from us and win. We’re gonna get them back.”

PIETRO: He stopped halfway down the hall, listening to her yell at him. Christ, where did she get the energy? After a beat, he pivoted on his foot and reappeared in the doorway as Monica delivered the rest of her speech to the room.  He noted it was about half as full as it had been, which meant his sister had gotten a case of sticky fingers and plucked them clean out. Wonderful. That was what, Steve, Sam, Bucky— that annoying blonde girl—actually, that was kind of funny. “Lead the way.” he said.

MONICA: “The episodes are edited,” Monica exhaled a sigh of relief when Pietro came back. “By Wanda. But we can keep visuals on everyone. It’s a start while we try to get in.”

NATASHA: Rising, Natasha slipped her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Scott, come back to the Compound with me. Call Hank and Jan on the way over. Maybe they can help. I’ll call you, Monica, with what I found. And Pietro...” She gnawed on her lip for a moment. “I’m choosing to believe Wanda isn’t lost. I don’t know what life looks like for her after this, but it’s not the end.” With one last tight smile she left to her apartment where Steve’s side of the bed would be cold.

SCOTT: Scott nodded, giving Natasha a halfhearted salute, “Got it, chief.”

PIETRO: Pietro surveyed Natasha, and somehow her words did help. Somehow. At any rate she’d lost something now too — at the very least if no one was inclined to help Wanda before, they all had their own stakes in getting someone out now. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. After a moment he turned to Monica. “I don’t presume you’ll be sleeping tonight?” A not so subtle way of asking whether or not she’d begin work now or later.

MONICA: A low chuckle left her chest. “Didn’t sleep last night, so I see no need to start now. It’s my turn to get coffee. Jimmy did it last time. After that, I have a few sheets to go over. Why,” she inclined her head to the side to stretch her neck. “Need a way to pass the time? I can only read so fast.”

PIETRO: He should sleep — purely for the chance to talk to Wanda, but it’d likely be day for her in Westview. He’d have his chance later. “Lucky then that I can read a book in seconds.” Despite the light nature of the comment, it never really reached his eyes—or his tone. “I can take you to the surveillance room steve mentioned.” He offered. “There’s a coffee pot.”

MONICA: They had a lot of ground to cover and not enough time. Monica had known they were poking the bear by gathering everyone together but she had instigated anyway. Now where were they? Definitely down resources from before and with less morale. Natasha’s vow to help was nice but didn’t ease Monica’s concerns. “We’re going to fix this.” She repeated, mind stuck on a loop. “I don’t care what Wanda or Hayward says. We know what’s real.” Pietro offering to help was more than Monica expected after everything that had just gone down but she wasn’t stupid enough to turn him down. “Okay.” Resolved settled over her. “Let’s do this.”

[konicichan-blog]

5am thoughts: theory: Story Of Light

is it called the Story of Light because its Shinee telling us and the whole entire world that they will no longer grief in sadness and that they've moved on and accepted what has happened? I'm sure we all know Shinee may still be sad (and maybe more than that) but what if this whole album is telling us that shinee, that all the members, Minho, Onew, Key, and Taemin are ready to have a new beginning? Like, they're ready to let all the sadness go and accept what has happened and that they will continue to work and grow.

What if You&I was about them talking about Jonghyun? Like, what if this song is about them trying to talk to Jonghyun? And theyre all trying to tell him that its hard when he's gone like they dont know what to do. "I’m the only one hurting, I may look fine I’m not easy, my feelings aren’t for decoration" And like they're all reminiscing their memories with him. All those good times that they're not ready to let go of. "A handful of memories, I laugh and remember every day" (okay the lyrics arent in order but JJJJust lemme finish and fyi, its gonna be a lOoong one). "There are countless stars in my heart, there’s one star that shines painfully I don’t want to grab it but I don’t want it to go out" okay in this part i think they maybe talking about Jonghyun. Maybe the stars represent people and "theres one star that shines painfully" might be Jonghyun. A star... someone really special to them... is hurting deep inside. Maybe Shinee is trying to tell us that although a celebrity or ANY person in general who may seem happy in front of the cameras or may seem happy in the outside in general is actually in deep pain inside. Dealing with self doubt, depression and all that and we just dont know :( "The things I can’t throw away make me smile" this is kinda self explanatory. Jonghyun, someone they love, someone they deeply cherish, someone they can't simply just let go of, someone who can always make them smile. You know? "I know that you’re being honest when you wish me well I’ll let you go easy, don’t think that you’re stepping on me" this is kinda hard to explain haha ahm.. maybe as time passes by, Jonghyun's absence is telling them to let go and move on and maybe they're mad with what he did? I DONT KNOW I DONT MEAN IT LIKE THAT! like mad, like?? how do i explain?? like maybe frustrated?? thats the best word i can think of right now riwjkrs they're frustrated but theyre not gonna blame it on him. like the good friends and brothers they are they will let it go easily.. UGH do i make sense? anyway. "I’ve let myself go to the wind and the rain that’s falling cooly But my feelings aren’t for decoration" okay so this is the part theyve told themselves that they really need yo accept what has happened. and maybe "my feelings arent for decoration" means that whatever they are feeling and whatever they are going through shouldnt be joked about in social media since its a serious matter and well ive seen some haters and some "new kpop fans" talk shit about this issue and honestly 😤 it makes me want to slap a bitch

Anyway

next song > UNDERCOVER

so the lyrics:

"I’m paddling my feet as busily underneath the surface with a calm expression on my face, You don’t know"

have u seen swans? how they paddle their legs under the water to move but above the water they seem so calm? like ballerinas, how their arms and body are always so graceful but their legs do all the work and stuff ¿¿?? okay im comparing the lyrics to swans and ballerinas because what if the boys are trying to tell us Jonghyun's situation and maybe also their's and other people who is suffering the same way? We don't always know what happens when we turn around. We don't always know when they're hurting. It's actually pretty easy to lie and fake a smile now a days so we always have to be careful with our loved ones. we dont always know what they're dealing with and one wrong move can cause a bomb to explode.

"Before the curtains rise, I’m always busy but when I’m standing before you I’m Acting cool"

Maybe theyre telling us that behind the scenes, theyre also suffering with personal or family issues. like every other person, celebrities have problems that they deal with too. they also have feelings. maybe on stage theyre smiling and having so much fun but backstage, theyre suffering? they cant breathe, they're overworked, theyre tired. sometimes they're forced to do things. Honestly for me, the kpop industry is so pressuring. you have to be this or that and if you cant you get criticized for it.

"I can’t let you know the things that are secretly happening now, now is not the time. I wait for the right moment, so that when you’ve realized it it’s too late."

Obviously most idols worry about their fans. Theyre worried when theyre fans are worried. its like a family thing we idol and fans have for each other yknow and maybe thats why sometimes they cant always speak up about whats really going on inside their mind. They cant always talk about it to the public bc sometimes people are so rude and so insensitive and leave comments like, "youre not depressed! youre just overthinking" bullshit, barbara. "you just need to hang out more" hMMmM :// ANYWAY thats why they dont really speak up alot. sometimes they cant even go to a psychiatrist privately because the media is always watching and once its on display, BOOm haters here and there talking bs and obviously WE wouldnt realize unless its TOO LATE!

"Like a black shadow is absorbed into the night, the night I dig deep beyond the consciousness, inside of you I’m Undercover"

I dont know how to begin with this.. its like once theyve hit rock bottom and they feel like nothing is gonna get better amd everything is just dark and gloomy. Maybe this is like the moving on part?? like the beginning of moving on. the depressive episode. And at first theyre just trying to hide everything. Just being undercover.

WAIT OMG OKAY SO MAYBE UNDERCOVER BEFORE YOU&I

so they got depressed over what happened and theyre trying to hide from everybody that theyre okay but theyre not and theyre just undercover. in you&i thats when they start reminiscing about jonghyun and talking to him. telling him they miss him and that for him, they're ready to accept and let go.

OKOK SO THE NEXT SONGS ARE WHEN THEY START BEING POSITIVE AGAIN !! YES GO SHINEE !! OUR STRONG KINGS !!!

so i dont really know the sequence i mean its already fucked up in the beginning so lets just go with whatever !!!

So in GOODEVENING!

"The cozy darkness is lingering far away"

so the 'darkness' or those gloomy days and toxic vibes theyve been surrounding themselves has been slwoly disappearing. they're starting to feel a little better again. <3

"At the tip of the sunset that hangs on the buildings I think of you"

i cant explain this one and note: i havent slept and its 6am but im still trying to make this work. but i think fjksjfks ok sunsets means like the day is "ending" and like before the day ends, they remember their sufferings while they were depressed and all those sad times with Jonghyun, like those times of grief.. they remember it all before starting a new day ¿¿ I DONT KNOW im trying my best to explain it. Its like theyre finally accepting what has happened and is ready to start a new happy day

"Spill out the darkness

Open the night

I wanna see you more, right now, oh"

So the sunsets and the night has come and theyve already accepted whats happend but they want to see Jonghyun in a different light. They want to see their bestfriend and brother as someone who was happy and made others happy. They want to remember Jonghyun as someone who made his parents and everyone around him proud.

"The moonlight is rising

I’m going to you before it’s too late

I’m going to get you

Imagining how surprised you’ll be, I’m going to you

Going to you

Going to you

Without a reason, going to you"

okay this part is like giving someone a hug before they leave for their flight. Like even when hes gone hes not alone and shinee is not alone. like theyre always together. theyll always be together. "imagining how surprised you will be" nrkanfks im thinkg on how to write thus part wo sounding sarcastic. knowing what jonghyun has been through, he might have thought that he was and always will be alone... but the members are there to guide him in his travel to heaven with their prayers and theyre all hoping to surprise him ¿¿ AAAA im sorry if this sounds sarcastic or offensive i REALLY didnt mean it to be that way >·<

literally,for me anway, the whole song is about how theyll always be there for each other. even when the other is far away, it will never stop them from what they are doing. and thats why i love Shinee so much💓

In jump im not gonna add a lot of lyrics since im getting lazier. (lmao you can see my effort fading from you&i until here)

in Jump the song is about them trying to put their pieces together again. They've been broken and torn apart but they're ready to pick theirselves up again.

"I shake my head, brush it off and adjust my heart

I solidly protect my space again"

no one can recover quickly so i guess in this part, they're trying to take things slow. not too fast or anything or else they might make a wrong move and fall back to square one.

"Keep on enduring it

Just close my eyes when it feels futile for no reason"

in this part, theyre still not that strong enough so theyre telling themselves that they should just endure the pain or sadness. if it feels impossible, just close your eyes, believe and trust in yourself. theyve made it this far, why should they quit now?

"Higher, rise higher, fly

There’s the ground beneath your feet

When I travel between the two

Oh yes I feel the freedom

I jump on you, jump on you"

when they finally overcome the fear and sadness and EVERYTHING! they feel the weight lift from their shoulders and finally they feel freedom. overjoyed, they celebrate by jumping¿¿ i guess?? lmAO

"I’m not falling

I’m not wilting

It’s just changes

I turn different

And keep going forward"

this is when they realize that: nothing is going bad. everything is going just fine and everything is great. maybe they havent fully recovered yet but all those depression and pain is finally gone and theyre happy. They're different now and they realize they can finally keep moving forward without feeling to fall back down again.

"Why is that hard Why did I hesitate for such a long time Following my heart away From other people’s eyes I free the feet that were bound I let my imagination loose after a long time The wind is blowing Now I open my eyes and breathe in"

the first 2 lines is probably them asking themsleves, why didnt we do this earlier? they finally followed what their heart wanted instead of being trapped in their own mind and they finally can breathe again. they feel free and loose. they dont feel the heavy chains hanging on their shoulder anymore !

Now I can open my eyes and breathe in.

this is honestly a HUGE step for them. and im so proud?? ugh..

last song: All Day All Night

"All the moments I met you were highlight I don’t regret it, it’s just beautiful"

Theyre remembering Jonghyun more with their happy memories. How his existence highlighted mostly everything in their past. Jonghyun was such a big part of their lives and even if he was gone, they were still happy that he was able to be part of their lives and they were thankful to be a part of his.

"I start to see the world differently Yeah it’s all for you Time starts to emit a light Yeah it’s all for you Our very painful tears The joy that fills ourh hearts All for you, all for you, all for you"

Theyre doing all these wonderful things all for Jonghyun and maybe also for us too and for themselves. "Time starts to emit light" its pretty self explanatory. theyre beginning to see things in a positive way again !! So all of this, this is all for Jonghyun.

"Leave it alone, hold me and my painful scars All of it is the control"

theyre telling us to maybe accept it and move on too. To move on with them. We're all in this together and everything is in control.

So YAAS thats my theory or whatever you call it for SHINEEs album. I really do think the message hidden behind this album is deep and amazing and VERY important. I'm glad SHINEE is able to see things in a new light. Let's just keep loving and supporting them, okay??! So that's it.

The Story Of Light.

The End.

[ice-cream-beat]

9 with a platonic Rokuven? I love how you write and I need more things with them :)

ahhh thank you! I do enjoy writing these two together, it’s really fun to try and figure out how their friendship might go. :’D And super sorry for the lateness!

#09. things you said when i was crying

summary: “Just tell me,” he implored gently: “what’re you looking for?”

Roxas wavered. Axel, the rest of the Organization, the man in Twilight Town, even… even somebody else, he couldn’t remember who… They were all so busy with their own intentions and plans that they either pushed him away or strung him along, sometimes both. Naminé had been different – she gave him answers when nobody else would – but even then… When had anybody ever asked him what he wanted? [Roxas + Ventus.]

Ao3 version here

/ / / / /

“Roxas! Wait–!”

A hand closed around Roxas’ wrist and stopped him in his tracks. The grip was firm and tight – authoritative, not beseeching – but without hurting. He didn’t turn around.

“Roxas, listen,” the voice behind that hand pleaded. “Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” was Roxas’ flat, quiet reply. “Let go.”

For an immeasurable moment in time – if time even passed here – there again fell that eerie silence. The waves lapping at the shore, the breeze stirring the palm trees, the outlines of gulls soaring far overhead… none of them made a sound. They had never made a sound, not once in the undefined space of time since Roxas had found himself here. It was like a dream, except the glaring sun and sparkling sand were too bright, too sharp. The grip on his arm was too solid and real.

“C’mon, just… talk to me.” The request, though harmless, made Roxas’ temper flare again. This guy always wanted to talk. He always had something to say, something positive and cheerful and calm – but Roxas only perceived that attitude as resignation. He had given up and accepted the fate of being stuck here, idealizing some eventual mercy on Sora’s part; but while Roxas was naive in a lot of ways, he wasn’t stupid. He knew there was nobody left to trust here but himself.

Slowly, Roxas finally turned around partway, but he didn’t back down to ease the tension along their arms. The face looking back at him smiled hopefully – a face that probably should have shocked him a lot more than it had the first time he saw it, but he had never been in the habit of looking into a mirror regularly. Coming across a face identical to his own had been startling and confusing, but probably not as shell-shocking as it would have been for some people. Normal people.

But Ventus, too, was arguably far from normal. He took this place in stride, despite having been here for so long. He spoke of Sora fondly, despite admitting that he didn’t “exactly” know him, whatever that meant. And sometimes Roxas heard him talking out loud, as though in conversation with somebody, but every time he looked there was nobody else there and Ventus would give a sad smile and an awkward laugh and brush it off.

“What’re you gonna do?” Ventus pressed. “What d’you think you can do from here?”

“He’s close.” Roxas wrinkled his nose, his stare turning distant even as it stayed on Ventus. Here, he could always feel Sora, but he was always distant, like somebody just outside of speaking distance that he couldn’t reach. Now… now he was nearby. Roxas knew where he was – where they all were – he felt the chilly touch of the World That Never Was, and something about that atmosphere put Sora closer to them – or maybe they were closer to him. Roxas was certain he could reach him now, that all his anger and grief could finally go somewhere.

That remark wasn’t really an answer, but Ventus was patient. He had to be after this long. “Even if you can talk to ‘im… then what?”

Roxas’ hands curled into fists. He didn’t want to talk to Sora. Despite his silence, or maybe because of it, Ventus must have detected his intention because he frowned. Roxas turned away again, indifferent and indicating he was done with the conversation. He’d thought, at first, that Ventus would understand him – he seemed like the only one who could – but it was clear they were too different. Either Ventus was too forgiving and laidback, or he hadn’t lost enough to be angry. He couldn’t possibly have understood how Roxas felt, not with that constant, blithe cheeriness, which meant that Roxas was once again alone and taking matters into his own hands.

Get to Sora. It was the only thing he could think of. The only thing to do besides walking in circles here.

“Roxas…” Ventus tried again. “I know you’re upset, but you gotta hear me out. There’s… there’s somethin’ you’re missing. I don’t think you can see it as long as you’re mad like th–” His voice cut off with a small sound of surprise, his fingers tensing in the same second, as a flash of light and sound of metal interrupted him. Slowly, Roxas looked over his shoulder, the Keyblade in his right hand staying low at his side.

“Let. Go.” It wasn’t up for debate.

Ventus met his gaze with an uncertain, concerned one – but it quickly hardened as his frown deepened. “No.”

Why… Why does everybody try to tell me what to do–

In a swift and sudden motion Roxas pivoted around and wrenched his arm free of Ventus’ grasp, his second Keyblade flashing into his hand. With nothing short of a fighter’s instinct Ventus retreated a couple steps with a solemn glare, shifting his stance and reaching out to the side to summon his own weapon – but he didn’t. Instead his attention was drawn to the latter of Roxas’ Keyblades, and something about it seemed to give him pause. He stared at the white blade, confused and thoughtful – and as odd as that was, Roxas was out of patience. He didn’t ask for an explanation; he didn’t want one.

“I’m going,” he repeated in a snap. “I don’t care who – or what you are. Don’t get in my way.”

That drew Ventus’ stare back to his face, and for a long, uncertain moment neither of them moved. Then, finally, Ventus straightened up again into his usual easy posture, but his head twitched towards his right shoulder and he glanced aside, as if listening to something behind him. After another few seconds he turned to Roxas fully, but not before stealing a glimpse at each Keyblade one more time.

“Okay…” He was quiet. Roxas wasn’t sure whether the remark was meant for him or just a thought spoken aloud. “Maybe… it’s the only way,” Ventus murmured. He sounded… sad. And the next look he gave Roxas matched the tone, although there was something resigned in it. “Just tell me,” he implored gently: “what’re you looking for?”

Roxas wavered. Axel, the rest of the Organization, the man in Twilight Town, even… even somebody else, he couldn’t remember who… They were all so busy with their own intentions and plans that they either pushed him away or strung him along, sometimes both. Naminé had been different – she gave him answers when nobody else would – but even then… When had anybody ever asked him what he wanted?

More importantly… what did he want, really?

“…Anything,” he answered quietly, gruffly. “Answers. Proof that… he’s the right one.”

“The right one…?”

Roxas gave a sharp, stiff nod. “He was chosen. Not me. I need… I need to know why.” His fingers tightened around his hilts until his palms stung. “That’s the very least he can do for me.”

“Roxas – you gotta ask yourself, what’s really most important to you?” Ventus challenged suddenly. “Isn’t there somethin’ else? Somethin’ that matters more than answers?”

Something… else? What kind of question was that?

“No,” Roxas answered, but his doubt showed. “Why would there be? What d’you know? You don’t know me.”

“I don’t,” Ventus agreed, “but somebody else does. Somebody who’s worried about you.” As he spoke, the air around him seemed to shimmer and bend slightly. Behind him, something dark – a shadow, about as tall as he was – blinked into view, but when Roxas tried to look at it directly, it disappeared. “You gotta try and remember,” Ventus was saying. “I know you haven’t lost it. Nobody would lose memories that important–”

“Enough!”

Ventus was no better than the others. Claiming to care but talking in vague terms, refusing to be straight with him… Roxas was done with it. All of it. He spun around and tore off down the beach, kicking up sand as he went. He didn’t look back to see if Ventus tried to grab him again, but he could already tell he wasn’t following.

As he approached the end of the shore, the point at which he would have to turn the corner and take the door through that wooden structure, the colors around him started to fade: the sky, the sand, the water, it all slipped into a grey hue that continued to darken, until he was finally running through an empty blackness.

Still that pull on his heart remained. He kept running, trusting it to take him where he wanted to go.

* * *

Ven continued to stare down the beach long after Roxas was gone. No, “gone” wasn’t right – he was still close. Ven could still feel him. He was just elsewhere.

“You sure that was the right thing?” he wondered. “I could’ve stopped him.”

“I don’t think you could have.” Soft footsteps crunched gently over the sand until the second presence stepped up beside him. “Not without the two of you getting hurt… and he’d just look for another opportunity, anyway.”

Ven hummed unhappily. “But Sora…”

“He’ll be okay.” That was said with a smile. “They both will. Roxas knows who he is, deep down… I think that’s the real ‘answer’ he’s looking for.”

“Huh… You know ‘im really well, don’t you?”

“Mm. But I also know what he’s going through.” There was a pause. “Ven… I’m sorry for asking so much of you. But if he never remembers–”

“I’m sure he will,” said Ven resolutely. “I bet it’s just like you said: he just has to work through everything he’s feeling first.”

That prompted a nod. “I hope so. But… if that isn’t the case… and you’re still the only one who can see me… Roxas is going to need a friend.”

For another moment neither of them spoke. Then Ven nodded with an affirmative sound. “Right. I’ll help him out.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

When Roxas returned, he found the brightness of the beach was no longer blinding. This time he felt the touch of the sun’s rays on his face and neck – not hot, but warm. Welcoming.

Ventus descended on him in a heartbeat, bolting across the sand to slide to a halt in front of him. “Roxas! What–” He stopped short, staring wide-eyed at Roxas’ face – and the small half-smile it wore. “Roxas…?”

“It’s okay.” Turning to look out over the waters, Roxas realized he had never really taken them in. He hadn’t appreciated the splash of cheerful color that the World That Never Was had lacked; he hadn’t really considered what a change in tone it was from the perpetual, sleepy sunset of Twilight Town. He liked both. “I get it now.”

“What happened?” asked Ventus cautiously. “Did you actually meet him?”

“Yeah…” Roxas thought back for a moment to what had transpired: a brutal and angry confrontation that had seemed to both last forever and end in an instant. Only a handful of words, all of which had only meant anything to himself. And a fight that he didn’t mind having lost. “It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted.

“So… did you find what you were looking for? Answers?”

Roxas hesitated, and then looked back to Ventus as he nodded lightly. “Yeah, actually. I did.” It was all right now. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t sad, that he didn’t miss Axel or still sting inside from how fast his life had gone downhill to land him here… but that dark, crushing weight in his chest was gone. He no longer felt like he needed to lash out. He no longer felt angry. Maybe that was why this beach seemed so much clearer to him now. Maybe his feelings – because that’s what they were, he felt things, Nobody or not, heart or not – maybe they had blinded him before. And now…

Now he could see.

He started to say something else to Ventus, but stopped when he noticed something behind him. Doing a double-take, Roxas realized it was a second figure. Standing further back, dressed in the same black coat as himself, hands folded in front of her hips as she watched and waited as though she had been there the whole time–

Roxas stared. Ventus picked up on it, followed his gaze, and then quickly stepped back and out of the way with a small, knowing smile of his own. Roxas barely noticed him, because he was busy wondering why his chest ached and his eyes began to sting as he went on watching the strange girl, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar…

The gentle touch on his back nearly made him jump. He heard Ventus speak just behind his shoulder. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? It’s been awhile since you’ve seen her.”

“Wh…” Roxas had to swallow and try again. His throat felt thick, and the lump in the middle of it made his voice come out deeper than usual. “Who is…?”

“She’s one of your best friends, right?”

The girl smiled at that, but it looked like an uncertain expression. She otherwise didn’t budge, and her eyes stayed on Roxas.

“My best…?” Roxas echoed, his voice hushed now. A strange sensation shot up through his neck, his skull, and into his temples, making him stumble forward as he expected to be hit with pain – but instead it was only warmth, gentle and comforting but also tinged with grief, and with it came words and voices, pictures and sounds and…

Her.

Blanks that he hadn’t even realized were blanks – they began to fill in, nearly overwhelming him, but he felt Ventus’ firm hand on his bicep, holding him up – but it did nothing for the strange pounding in his ears, his chest, or the hot, wet tracks that ran unbidden down his face. There was no stopping any of that.

Roxas tried to speak, but only managed a shuddering breath. He swallowed again, hard. “Xi… Xion!” He forced his dizzy head up, blinking through blurry eyes, and found her standing directly in front of him. She, too, had tears on her face and a tremble in her shoulders – but she smiled through every second of it.

“Roxas…”

He had forgotten her. Even after remembering so much… he had forgotten all about her and hadn’t even realized it. That was the only thing that made him pause right then, that kept him from rushing forward to try and make it up to her. How could he possibly have forgotten her, one of his best…? What kind of person – what kind of friend would…

“Roxas.” Ventus this time. He leaned in to catch Roxas’ eye, still holding his arm. Still smiling. Despite always having something to say, now he was silent – but it was fitting, somehow. Roxas took more simple strength from that hand on his arm, more reassurance from that gaze, than he probably could have from any positive or encouraging thing Ventus might have said right then. For the first time since meeting him, Roxas suddenly wondered if Ventus did understand him, at least a little. Or maybe even more than that.

He looked at Xion again, who was still watching him, and waiting, as she must have done for a long time now. Not alone, thanks to Ventus, but still without her best friends. Still forgotten.

Roxas wasn’t sure what pushed him to the gesture – he certainly hadn’t been familiar with it during his time in the Organization; maybe it was some fragment of his fake, broken memories. Maybe it was something else. He didn’t stop to think or even care – the only thing that seemed right in that moment was to stagger forward and clumsily throw his arms around her. She was solid and warm. She was real.

He felt her return the hug tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“You remember…”

[wellamarke]

neither joy, nor sorrow

humans challenge, week 2, day 1: historical au

Tragedy was a rare thing in their small village, but when it hit, it affected them all - man, woman and child. The only ones who walked about as though nothing had happened were the metal men, the androids who shared their homes but not their hearts.

The human inhabitants of the village all felt the grief of the occasion, and whispered among themselves of the great sadness that had come to the Elster family. Poor Mrs Beatrice, a woman given to bouts of madness, had drowned herself in the lake, and taken her young son with her. They were survived only by Mr Elster, who now lived alone in the enormous house, with only metal men for company. It was the most dreadful thing that had happened in the village for as long as anyone could remember, so naturally it was the biggest cause for gossip, however hushed the tones.

“Is it any wonder, really?” asked Mrs Laura Hawkins, sitting at the breakfast table. “Surrounded by metal men in that gloomy old house of theirs. I ask you, what need does a family of three have for so many servants? Their metal men outnumbered them. They were bound to succumb to madness eventually.”

Mrs Laura Hawkins did not think kindly of metal men, or those who kept them. It was an opinion she had held since the very beginning of their invention, and she was proud to say so. She did not change her opinions without very good reason.

“You can’t know it had anything to do with that,” said her husband, mildly, from his end of the table. “If you ask me, Mrs Elster was never quite sane. I was given to understand that Mr Elster only started making the metal men to help with her condition.”

“Well, I’d say he made it worse, then,” said Mrs Hawkins, primly. “He ought to have been a little more present in her life, instead of holing himself away in that workshop. And that poor child of theirs. I doubt he even knew what his father looked like, God rest his little soul.”

Mr Joseph Hawkins glanced pointedly in the direction of their young daughter. “You’ll upset her, Laura. Don’t speak of the child.”

“But we must,” said Mrs Hawkins. “It’s important these things are spoken of, so they can be avoided in the future.” Her eyes were suddenly far away. “It’s a terrible thing, the death of any child. But it does no good to pretend it hasn’t happened.”

Their daughter, Matilda, did not seem to be listening, at any rate, concentrating as she was on the plate in front of her. Noticing this, Mr Hawkins decided the conversation may as well continue, since it had already begun.

“The funeral is in two days’ time,” he remarked. “It would reflect badly on us, if we weren’t to attend.”

Mrs Hawkins tutted. “Of course we must attend. I only said the thing was inevitable, not that we oughtn’t pay our respects. Just the opposite. We can pay them soundly, since they have been ready for so long.”

And so, accordingly, when the day of the funeral came, the Hawkins family met with the rest of the villagers in the churchyard. Even the baby was brought along with them, since they had no metal man at home to leave him with. For most of the service, Matilda played with her infant brother to keep him quiet, while her parents stood with the other adults.

Mr David Elster was standing very near to the hole that had been dug in readiness for the coffin, with two of his metal men at each side of him. Properly speaking, two of them were metal women - and all of them were so finely finished that one could hardly tell they were metal at all. Were it not for their gleaming, green eyes, even the skeptical Mrs Hawkins might have mistaken them for real people.

The large coffin was lowered with considerable ease, and Mrs Hawkins rather indelicately thought to herself that it was as though no bodies were inside it at all. With a shudder she thought of Mr Elster’s mysterious workshop, and imagined the woman and the child lying side by side on his work bench, awaiting some terrible experiment… but she quickly banished such ghastly thoughts from her mind. It was very improper even to think such things, especially at this time of grief.

To occupy her mind with other things, she gazed at the metal men one by one. It was a silly notion, of course, but when the picture was taken as a whole, it almost looked as though they were just as miserable as the people around them, their metal faces downcast and sad. Naturally, it was just a reflection of the mood of the place. Metal men could feel neither joy nor sorrow - everybody knew that.

Eventually the priest finished his sermon and the mourners began to disperse. Mr Elster said something to his metal men, and three of them turned away with him and left, starting toward the gates of the churchyard. The fourth one stayed, looking down at the place in the ground where the hole had been, covered now in a layer of soil that did not entirely cover the coffin. The gravediggers would fill it in more amply later on, when everyone had gone.

Most of the other villagers had left already, including Mr Hawkins, who had taken the baby's carriage with him, little Matilda following at his side. Only Mrs Hawkins remained, finding herself unable to pull her eyes way from the other figure. It was one of the metal women, her dark hair obscuring part of her face as she bowed her head. Even now, alone against the backdrop of the church, she managed to look forlorn. Mrs Hawkins found it rather unsettling. It wasn’t proper for a metal man to remain in a place after the owner had departed, unless it was to perform some kind of task.

“Mr Elster has left,” she told the metal woman, sharply. “Why have you not gone with him?”

The metal woman looked up to meet her accusing stare, but immediately Mrs Hawkins felt her expression falter. There was no denying the sadness that radiated from the metal woman’s face. Perhaps Mr Elster had altered her somehow, making her able to mimic human misery. But something told her that was not the case. Mere mechanics could explain the positions of jaws and lips and brows. Surely they could not imbue the eyes with such a deep despair as she saw in the eyes of the metal woman.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs Hawkins said, though her logical mind chastised her for apologising to a metal man. It simply wasn’t necessary. Or it had never seemed so before. “That is, for a moment, I thought–”

The metal woman made no answer, but she knelt down by the stone which had been freshly engraved with the names of the deceased, and pressed a metal hand to it, impossibly tender in her movements. Then she stood up once more and walked hastily away, not glancing at Mrs Hawkins again.

But Mrs Hawkins did not need to meet those eyes a second time to remember how piercingly they had looked at her, how much pain they had seemed to reveal. No, no, it was impossible! It could not be. Nobody had ever heard of a metal man who could feel anything at all, let alone a grief so acute as she had witnessed. Was it possible that this was not a metal man at all, but a real woman dressed as one? Mr Elster’s creations looked so lifelike, after all. It would not take much more than a trick of the light to make the eyes shine so, with the help of a small lens worn inside the eyelid. Mrs Hawkins had never seen such a thing attempted before, but perhaps it could be done. Surely it was the only explanation.

Somewhat perturbed by the whole experience, she hurried off to join her husband, trying with all her might to rid her mind of the flights of fancy that danced there. Either the metal woman was not truly metal, or she was not truly in mourning. One or the other must be a deception.

Despite what she told herself, Mrs Hawkins was unable to banish the memory of what she had seen. Long into the night, she saw those eyes peering at her in the darkness of her room, as if pleading with her to share their anguish.

The most preposterous thing of all was that she did share it. Against her every principle, she knew the metal woman’s agony as keenly as though it were her own.

Perhaps, in a way, it was.

Oh, Thomas, she thought as she lay there in the shadows. If only you were still alive. You would know just what to say to calm my thoughts.

But alas, her young brother was gone.

She rummaged in her memory for the sound of his boyish laugh. That was how she numbed her mind into sleeping, most nights: not because she could remember his laughter, but because she could not, and so she exhausted herself with the search.

[shooklynn-blog]

Black Hole Meets Shooting Star (Chapter 2)

A/N: listen i love my other fanfics (cereal box is one of the ones i'm most proud of) but something about this prompt is so exciting to me and i just can’t stop writing more. i can’t stop writing angst into moments that i want to be comforting bc i love drama so sorry bout that. yeah this fic should be called angsty!dan and misunderstood!phil lol. 

read chapter 1 first

go here for chapter 3!

also: read any part on wattpad here!

summary: Dan is so sick of everybody treating Phil Lester like some untouchable prince at school. Phil wears the same flower crowns and pastels Dan was heavily bullied for, but gets no grief. Dan would give anything to have Phil’s life, something that, in his eyes, is just perfect. Phil, the distant daydreamer, walks around, paying little attention to anybody but himself. He’s the person that Dan just loves to hate. That is, until Phil finds him after getting beaten up and takes him back to his place to get him cleaned up. Maybe Dan learns that there’s more to this Phil Lester kid than what meets the eye, and maybe all the distant boy’s daydreaming is just a distraction from the horrors of every day life.

genre: angst, fluff

warning: mentions of previous bullying, dan is stupid and angry for no reason, but what else is new??

word count: 1,667

Chapter 2:

It was unlike any dream I’d ever had. It was as if I was almost awake, but not quite fully there. I heard echoes of the sounds around me, but it mostly blurred together. I was on a camping trip somewhere, inside of my tent. I was all alone, but saw the outline of something big’s shadow on a tent. It looked like some bear or something, but way bigger than any bear I’d ever read about. I cowered into the corner as the shadow grew. All I could feel was the fear pumping through my veins. The giant creature took its paw and slashed its claws through my tent as if it were a knife through butter. I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life. The bear looked my in the eyes and said, softly, “Are you alright?”

My eyes shot open, filled with tears from an unknown source. It was bright and overwhelming, but eventually my eyes adjusted to it. I was on a couch in a lounge that I’d never seen before wrapped in a quilt. Next to me was a boy with eyes so bright that they almost made my head hurt if I looked at them too long. His dark hair was unmistakably iconic, the same head I’d stared at the back of during english every day, wishing that I could be like him. The same person I’d gone on and on about how much I hated. Of course it had to be Phil Lester who’d taken me in and been a decent person, telling me not to worry about puking in his car. Of course it had to be the boy who I’d assumed gave nobody the time of day who’d taken the time to make sure I was okay and drive me to where he could take care of me.

I should have been grateful, I should have thanked him and been happy that he’d rescued me from what I’d accepted as inevitable. I just felt angry. Phil Lester couldn’t understand how I felt, how my body ached and I just wanted to cry not only because of the scars that they left me, but also because of the things they called me between classes. Phil Lester wasn’t called “worthless” or “ugly” or “fat” multiple times a day. Phil Lester wasn’t called anything. He had no idea how it felt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, it’s just, you were screaming, and I thought you had a bad dream or something,” Phil looked at me sympathetically, but I saw right through his icy eyes. I didn’t know why he brought me here, but it certainly wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. Maybe he just wanted to look like a hero or something. Phil Lester never did anything for anybody. Yeah, maybe he felt sorry for me, the was rich people feel bad for people who aren’t as well off, but he’d never understand. He’d never look at me and say, “I know what you’re going through.” I’d say that I may have just been on his path home, but why hadn’t he stepped in before? Perfect Phil Lester could never understand, and that made me so mad.

“It’s fine,” I replied, tight-lipped and bitter. Phil looked a little surprised at my tone. Maybe he’d expected me to thank him extravagantly, or worship the ground he walked on like everybody else. Sure, he’d saved my from getting beaten up, and I was glad I wasn’t a punching bag anymore. Still, I knew what to expect from Balloon, Rat, and Gardener, while Phil was so strange. At school, he acted distant and floaty and above it all, but now it was like he was pretending to care about me.

He obviously didn’t care about me. Phil Lester didn’t care about anything. He didn’t care about teachers, he didn’t care about the students who treated him so nicely, he didn’t care about homework, he certainly didn’t care about me. He was this shooting star, ever so admired by all, giving off a certain glow, brilliantly falling through the sky, not caring about its surroundings, just existing for others to look at and appreciate. It’s cut off from the world, but the world still sees it. It’s there and not and it’s so beautiful and frustrating.

“If you need anything, I’m here for you,” he nearly whispered it, seeming significantly less enthusiastic than the time before. Was he really there for me? Why would he be? I was a black hole, filled with darkness and imploding on myself. Why would a shooting star care about a dark hole, existing on opposite sides of the universe. We were too different.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Maybe I was taking for granted being in Phil Lester’s glorious presence. Most people wished on shooting stars, but all I could think about was all my wishes who hadn’t come true. All the other times I was cornered and punched and kicked and humiliated, where had he been? Surely he’d seen it happen, it had gone on for over a year. What made him step in now?

“Phil, can I ask you a question?” I was reluctant to straight out ask why he’d helped me.

“Of course,” he whispered calmly.

“Why did you step in? Why now of all times?” the question was killing me, I couldn’t think of a single reason that he would have wanted to help me.

“I know that, in your position, I would have wanted help. I didn’t really want to go over at first, but it was so bad and I just couldn’t handle seeing anybody treated that way. I understand how you felt, hopeless and afraid,” his eyes seemed softer, perhaps more empathetic.

“You’d never have to be in my situation though,” I nearly scoffed. It wasn’t meant to sound as rude as it ended up sounding.

“Excuse me?” the boy looked genuinely confused.

“I mean, everybody worships you at school. Nobody picks on you. How can you possibly say you understand?” I laughed a little, a bitter, short laugh that held nearly no humor at all. Suddenly, it was if something in Phil had changed. His shoulders went rigid and his eyes got the same distant appearance as they usually had at school. It looked as if he were clenching his jaw.

“Here’s some advil, you can get cleaned up in the bathroom, let me know if you need a ride back to your place,” the way he said it made a shiver run up my spine. The quiet, caring boy from only moments before was gone, a cold shadow of what he used to be left in his place. The monotonous tone in his voice was eerie. He stood up and walked into the other room, leaving me alone. This was the Phil Lester I knew.

A different sort of nausea to the type I felt earlier washed over me. I layed on the couch for a moment, taking in the situation and just thinking. I finally decided to go and get cleaned up in the bathroom. The door’s handle was difficult to turn, but using my body’s weight and will power, I managed to get the door open.

The room was painted a pale blue with a white ceiling. The sink had a marble countertop and a mirror directly above it. I looked horrible. I had a busted lip and dried blood was at the corners of my mouth. I popped an advil into my mouth and used the sink water to swallow it. I turned on the shower, took off my bloodstained clothes, and waited for a minute before getting in to give the water time to heat up.

The still slightly cool water felt good on my back, washing away the blood that had dried onto my torso. I looked at the shower products sitting in the shower’s corner and grabbed a handful of what I presumed to be shampoo, lathering it up through my hair. It felt so good to feel actually clean, watching everything wash down the drain. I rubbed a pump of conditioner into my hair. His body wash smelled like bubblegum and cotton candy and was so different than the barred soap I was used to.

I wasn’t sure how much to use, so just kept pouring it into my hand until I couldn’t hold it anymore. I rubbed it all over my body and my wounds burned at the contact. Even worse, I realized how much it lathered up, and I’d definitely used way too much. I must’ve used like a third of the bottle. I was going to wreak of sweets for the next two years.

I stepped out of the shower and saw a towel and clothes that I’d sworn weren’t there when I’d gotten into the shower. There was something written hastily on a notecard on top of the pile of linens. The note read, “I heard you start the shower and thought you might need these.” I couldn’t help but feel bad for acting so coldly towards the boy earlier. It was a towel, a pair of grey sweatpants, a light pink t-shirt, and a dodie yellow sweatshirt. I used the towel to dry myself off. The sweatpants were slightly long on me, but unbelievably soft. The shirt was oversized and comfortable. When I put on the sweatshirt, it felt like I’d just walked through a cloud. I had to give it to him, Phil knew how to dress for comfort.

I opened the door and realized how much colder the air was outside of the steam-filled room. The floor made me wince, it was like I was walking on ice or something. I didn’t see Phil, and, against my better judgement, decided to wander around. After all, Phil hadn’t said not to go anywhere, and I was curious. I started by walking into where Phil had first gone after he’d advised I get washed up.

[softpink]

A Year in Spotify: March 2018

March is the worst month of the goddamn year. It’s just a vacuum of grief and loss and hurting. I miss Mike so much, and I’m making progress in coming to terms with it, but holy fucking shit I wish he hadn’t died. That’s all I have to say about this month, I’m happy for it to be over.

50. Store - Carly Rae Jepsen I can't play pretend, wish it hadn't come to this But you know there's some things you can't mend

49. Can’t Hold Us Down - Christina Aguilera Making up a few false rumors or two That for sure is not a man for me, slandering names for popularity It's sad you only get your fame through controversy But now it's time for me to come and give you more to say

48. The City - 1975 Don 't call it a fight when you know it 's a war With nothing but your t-shirt on

47. Discovering the Waterfront - Silverstein Pretend it’s not forever I'll pull myself together, I'll say that I'll forget her, I'll breathe And I'll say she never hurt me, and look at it as learning And laugh about the good and the bad 

46. Getaway Car - Taylor Swift Well he was running after us, I was screaming, "go, go, go" But with three of us, honey, it's a side show And a circus ain't a love story, and now we’re both sorry

45. Fight Test - The Flaming Lips Cause I'm a man not a boy and there are things you can't avoid, You have to face them when you're not prepared to face them

44. Sober - Lorde Midnight, we’re fading Till daylight, we’re jaded We know that it’s over In the morning, you'll be dancing with all the heartache

43. Double Cross - Senses Fail All my pictures have faded over time I burnt the negatives of you

42. Sleeping With a Friend - Neon Trees All my friends stay up past midnight Looking for the thing to fill the void I don't go out much like I used to Something about the strangers and the noise

41. A Song For Ernest Hemingway - The Wonder Years And I heard all about how his plane went down after Christmas in the Congo He read about his own death in the paper, I bet it was freeing to know When you destroy anything worth chasing, there's nowhere left to go

40. A Change of Heart - The 1975 And she said, I've been so worried about you lately You look shit and smell a bit You're mad thinking you could ever save me Not looking like that

39. Hum Hallelujah - Fall Out Boy I love you in the same way there's a chapel in a hospital One foot in your bedroom, and one foot out the door

38. First Letter From St. Sean (Rearranged) - Sorority Noise I am not alive, I didn't mean to leave you when I died I was too scared you might be the one to leave There's so much more to life than the flick of a knife

37. So It Goes... - Taylor Swift Cut me into pieces Gold cage, hostage to my feelings

36. Truffle Butter - Nicki Minaj Your whole style and approach, I invented And I ain't taking that back, cause I meant it

35. I Don’t Fuck With You - Big Sean I swear I hear some new bullshit every day I'm waking up It seems like nowadays everybody breaking up That shit can break you down if you lose a good girl I guess you need a bad bitch to come around and make it up

34. Dress - Taylor Swift I'm spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we're both drunk Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about us

33. Me vs The Highway - The Wonder Years I remember me at eighteen, naked in your parents' basement Young and careless, watching you blow smoke rings And I remember me at eighteen You sat stoic in front me, a portrait of who we'd someday be

32. The Waterboy Returns - Modern Baseball It’s fun to be all talk, but I won't be here forever Rough time to be a lost soul, I'm sure, but we feel the same Death won't bring friends and flowers to your grave

31. You’re Crashing But You’re No Wave - Fall Out Boy Case open, case shut But you could pay to close it like a casket

30. State of Grace - Taylor Swift We are alone, just you and me Up in your room and our slates are clean Just twin fire signs, four blue eyes

29. Writer in the Dark - Lorde Stood on my chest and kept me down Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd Did my best to exist just for you

28. I’m Serious I’m Sorry - Jeff Rosenstock I wanted to tell you I know how it feels when The people you love just start disappearing Ashamed that you took their presence for granted But I didn’t want to seem condescending

27. Bonfire - Childish Gambino They told me I was awful man, that shit did not phase me Tell me how I suck again, my memory is hazy

26. She Way Out - The 1975 With a face from a movie scene Or magazine, you know what I mean

25. Don’t Take The Money - Bleachers And I saw your face and hands, colored in sun and then I think I understand

24. The “I” in Lie - Patrick Stump It might’ve felt good for a minute But admit it to yourself it ain’t right When you’re sleeping with your lover But you’re living with your wife

23. Flicker, Fade - Taking Back Sunday So you can go, go, go, if you want to I wouldn't try and stop you I couldn't say I blame you

22. Loverboy - You Me At Six Your past has you in a choke hold But you deserve it from what I've been told

21. A Little Uncanny - Conor Oberst You know old Ronnie Reagan, he was a shoe salesman's son He got himself in the movies, he impressed everyone He fought trial by fire, was America's fate He made a joke of the poor people, and that made him a saint

20. Like a River Runs - Bleachers The summer's gone and I'm alone And I get the feeling that you're somewhere close And I wanna get up, to the rhythm of your wild, to the rhythm of your wild heart It beats, been beating since you've gone

19. Something - Julien Baker I just let the silence swallow me up The ring in my ears, the taste of blood Asking aloud why you're leaving But the pavement won't answer me

18. Blacktop - Julien Baker But I know you're in the pews, the same as stools around the bar And I know I saw your hand when I went out and wrapped my car

17. Treacherous - Taylor Swift And I'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands And I'd be smart to walk away, but you're quicksand

16. The Way - Ariana Grande You got my heart, don’t know how you did it And I don’t care who sees it babe I don’t wanna hide the way I feel when you're next to me

15. Hard Feelings/Loveless - Lorde When you've outgrown a lover, the whole world knows but you It's time to let go of this endless summer afternoon

14. Cry - Carly Rae Jepsen He never wants to strip down to his feelings He never wants to kiss and close his eyes

13. Jacksonville Skyline - Whiskeytown I was born in an abundance of inherited sadness And fifty cent picture frames bought at a five and dime

12. Go Home - Julien Baker And I haven't been taking my meds Lock all the cabinets, send me to bed Cause I know you're still worried I'm gonna get scared Cause I'm alone again and I don't like the things I see

11. Reckless - You Me At Six Your loose lips let, let words slide You spend too much time talking about my life Stories you will spin just for a power trip It's safe to say that I am not into it

10. All I Need - Radiohead You are all I need I'm in the middle of your picture Lying in the reeds

9. Cutting My Fingers Off - Turnover I never wanted to make you go You might be a stranger now But I just wanted to let you know that I meant what I said

8. Rich as Fuck - Lil Wayne (Will rapping this entire goddamn song on the drive the DC is forever burned into my memory)

7. No Halo (Rearranged) - Sorority Noise The same things that plague you still plaguing me God called you to fulfill a vacancy I tried to see why it wasn't me

6. Sex - The 1975 You and your fit friends anyway I'd take them all out any day They've all got back combs anyway You've all got boyfriends anyway

5. Wild Pack of Family Dogs - Modest Mouse And I’m sitting outside my mud lake, waiting for the pack to take me away And right after I die the dogs start floating up towards the glowing sky

4. Green Light - Lorde But honey I'll be seeing you, wherever I go But honey I'll be seeing you down every road I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it

3. Everybody Lost Somebody - Bleachers And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places A reason I see myself in a million faces A reason I can't stop it all from changing So come on, motherfucker, you survived, you gotta give yourself a break

2. Supercut - Lorde In my head, I do everything right When you call, I'll forgive and not fight Because ours are the moments I play in the dark We were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart

1. Drummer Boy - MisterWives Never want to wake up next to anybody else Never in my life did I want to hear the wedding bells You make me believe in something I claimed untrue Set my fears on fire, like a phoenix I am new With you, I am new every scar fades away, less existent with each day they fade away