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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 7 months

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A reflection on the terrorist attack on Israel through the lens of America.

October 9, 2023

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

About 30 seconds after I pressed “send” on Friday’s newsletter, I received an alert regarding a surprise attack on Israel by Hamas. By the next morning, it was clear that the strike was the largest terrorist attack on Israel in its modern history. For a small country, approximately 700 deaths are the equivalent of 25,000 in the US. That horrific reality was compounded by several factors, including Hamas’s gruesome use of social media to display dead bodies and civilian hostages, that the attack was launched on a Jewish holiday, and that there were “celebrations” around the world in response to the killing and capture of Israeli civilians.

For Jews in America, the attack comes at a time of increasing antisemitism in the US. Right-wing extremists spew a toxic mix of white supremacy, neo-Nazism, and antisemitism fueled by grievance over losing white dominance. Last week, a mayoral candidate in a small town 20 miles south of Nashville showed up to a debate flanked by the “Tennessee Active Club”—a group that includes white supremacists and neo-Nazis who glorify Hitler, deny the Holocaust, and use the slogan, “Remember, there is no political solution.”

The mayoral candidate (Gabrielle Hanson) denies she supports neo-Nazis, but after being called out by the local newspaper for using neo-Nazi “enforcers” at the debate, she sent a campaign promotion featuring some of the same neo-Nazis who provided “protection” for her at the debate. The message was clear to those in the small Tennessee town: Gabrielle Hanson hangs out with neo-Nazis and wants your vote. It starts with a wink and nod among brothers in hate and ends in genocide. It must stop now, and we must be the ones to stop it.

The increasing antisemitism in the US places a special burden on all Americans to recognize that the attack directed at Jewish civilians has deep resonance with millennia of efforts to stigmatize and blame Jewish people for imagined grievances and vile conspiracy theories. Whatever you think about the maddeningly complicated politics in the Middle East, there is no excuse for targeting, torturing, and using civilians as hostages.

Jewish Americans are rightly anxious, frightened, and wary that it could happen again because antisemitism has gone mainstream in the Republican Party. Republicans in Florida, Texas, Missouri, and other states are banning “The Diary of Anne Frank,” “Maus,” and other books about the Holocaust because they do not want school children to know or remember about a genocide that happened during their grandparents’ lifetimes.

We need to tell all Jewish Americans that we are by their side and will stand between them and the neo-Nazis, white supremacists, and messengers of hate recruited and infected by the virus of MAGA extremism. We need to speak out against antisemitism to protect our friends, neighbors, and strangers who are fearful about what happens next.

Coda.

A few minutes after I wrote the above introduction, a reader sent me the following email from an Israeli American who sent an email to her friends to explain how Jews across the world feel. I have excerpted (and lightly edited) two paragraphs from a much longer email:

Your Jewish friends are hurting. We are grateful to the ones who can pluck up the courage to get in touch and to check on our loved ones. We are moved to tears, after years of antisemitism at what we thought was already a fever pitch in the US, and while bracing for the wave that is already beginning, that some of you will even go as far as to publicly post that the murder of Jewish civilians is not okay. We are so inured to people being not just okay with but supportive of the death of Jews, that just a simple social media post that says "Maybe treat Jews like they're human for five minutes before explaining why this is actually their fault” seems radical. Because even just that is so, so rare. Instead, we get a million explainers about why this is justified, why Israelis deserve this, why we only have ourselves to blame. With not even one moment, one breath spared for the intense, irrepressible pain we are in as we try to track down our loved ones, hold space for our community members who are suffering, and brace with fear at what the suffering that is coming next, on both sides of the border.

What the terrorist attack on Israel means in the US.

There is so much to say about the attack on Israel I will attempt to be brief to cover more ground.

1. The attack took place during a time of deep political division in Israel.

The current government coalition has been attempting to undermine the judiciary to maintain political power—a tactic that has deeply divided the Israeli people. See Lawrence Freedman on Substack, Hamas attacks Israel | Why Now and What Next? Per Freedman,

[T]he coalition’s policies on judicial reform left Israeli society deeply divided, something of which Hamas will have been well aware . . . .

When a nation is deeply divided by political strife, its enemies seek advantage. That is why the MAGA culture war benefits America’s adversaries, especially Russia and China.

2. Republicans have hollowed out the American diplomatic corps.

Republicans have resisted the routine confirmation of Joe Biden’s diplomatic appointments. The following US diplomatic posts in the Middle East are vacant:

- Israel

- Egypt

- Lebanon

- Oman

- Kuwait

- No confirmed top USAID official for the Middle East for nearly three years

3. Senator Tommy Tuberville is hampering US military preparedness.

Meanwhile, Senator Tommy Tuberville has prevented the appointment of 300 senior officers in the US military.

4. The absence of a governing majority in the House has hampered the US’s ability to respond.

There is much media attention to the fact that the absence of a Speaker is limiting the ability of the House to support a US response to the attack. While that is true as far as it goes, the absence of a Speaker is the symptom, not the cause. The GOP caucus is incapable of governing.

Republicans must be able to join Democrats to advance America’s interests without incurring primary challenges from neo-Nazis, Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, Moms for Liberty, or other extremist candidates funded by GOP dark money.

5. Disinformation is rampant.

Disinformation about the terrorist attack and response is rampant. Elon Musk recommended two sites for war coverage on Twitter that are known for peddling false stories to gain subscribers. Worse, one site Musk recommended for war coverage includes antisemitic content. See Washington Post, As false war information spreads on X, Musk promotes unvetted accounts.

Separately, Republican presidential candidates have been spreading the false claim that the Biden administration’s release of a hold on $6 billion in impounded Iranian funds was used to finance Hamas’s attack. That claim is false. See The Hill, $6B in frozen Iranian funds remain unspent in wake of Hamas attack, Blinken says. The $6 billion remains in a monitored bank account cannot be released except for humanitarian aid.

Those facts did not prevent Nikki Haley from claiming that the Biden administration is at fault for the Hamas attack because it allowed the Iranian government “to move money around” in anticipation of the release of the impounded funds. She should be ashamed of herself for lying—assuming she has the capacity for shame.

6. Trump's battles with the US intelligence community have undermined trust in those agencies.

Trump has been at war with the intelligence community ever since it concluded that Russia intervened in 2016 (and later, 2020) elections to help Trump. Per his playbook, Trump attacked the messenger. Then, when he was caught divulging secrets to top Russian diplomats and retaining defense secrets, he once again blamed the intelligence community. See, e.g., NYTimes, Unwanted Truths: Inside Trump’s Battles With U.S. Intelligence Agencies. The article reveals that the US intelligence community began to shade its conclusions to avoid upsetting Trump.

It is too early to assign blame for the fact that Israel was caught off guard by the attack. But, at this early point, it is difficult to understand the failures of both the Israeli and US intelligence agencies. I am not saying that Trump's attacks on the US intelligence community are a proximate cause of the lack of preparedness. But Trump has caused congressional Republicans to view the intelligence community as an adversary. It is not; it is essential to America’s defense in a dangerous world—as the surprise attack on Israel demonstrates.

Concluding Thoughts.

Writing about politics in the Mideast is difficult. The above comments are mine alone, but I thank readers (and friends) Dennis Aftergut and Susan Morgan for helping me to shape my thoughts about tonight’s newsletter. My unerring Managing Editor provided more than her usual amount of guidance for this newsletter. And a half-dozen readers sent links to helpful articles. Thank you.

The status of Gaza and the West Bank are difficult issues about which Israel’s major political parties and citizens disagree. We can’t expect to resolve those issues for Israel and the Palestinians, though we can stand ready to guarantee the terms of any peace and governance framework.

Sadly, the point of the terror attack on Israel was to disrupt efforts to normalize relations between Israel and Saudi Arabia (among others) as a precursor to a peace framework. Hamas’s goal is to prevent peace and stability in the Mideast—a development that would make its structural opposition to Israel’s legitimacy irrelevant and unnecessary.

The US has a delicate and important role to play—which is why having Joe Biden as President at this moment is important and fortunate. The US is moving a carrier strike group into the Eastern Mediterranean. The carrier strike group will provide air defense to discourage involvement by Iran or Syria. Major military moves—and the possibility of command decisions to engage in combat—are not the type of judgments that should be in the hands of an impulsive, immature, petulant, distracted, and ignorant leader like Trump.

Republicans are suddenly in a panic about the absence of a speaker of the House and are considering re-electing Kevin McCarthy—because they know that Jim Jordan is not a serious candidate for the job. So, too, with the choice for President of the United States. A vote for Trump may satisfy the emotional need of some voters for revenge and retribution, but it is not a vote for stability and peace. The world is a complicated and dangerous place. Last Friday evening, the entire outlook for peace in the Middle East changed dramatically in a matter of minutes. We need Joe Biden’s experience and wisdom to guide us through this difficult time.

Talk to you tomorrow.

#war in Israel #Robert B. Hubbell #Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter #war #political #US House of Representatives #Israel #Middle East #Jewish

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sea-changed · 1 year

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There is simply no getting around the deep-seated racial issues in Parade, but I will say that I do think they did something fascinating and meaningful in the revival by not pointing a finger at Jim Conley in lieu of Frank. Even though they maintain (I believe exactly?) Jim’s lines and songs, in my opinion the narrative the way it is presented in the revival never implicates Conley or suggests that he was the actual murderer. I saw it twice and the first time I came out of the theater thinking how fascinating it was that they didn’t feel the need to provide an alternate killer and how that really supported the overall ambiguity and reckoning with complexity that I got from the piece. (Not ambiguity in terms of Frank’s innocence--obviously the show has a very clear stance on that--but rather the crosscurrents of motive and situation that put all the characters in the positions they are in.)

Before seeing it the second time I read the Leo Frank Wikipedia article that notes that Conley is widely agreed upon to be the most likely murderer, and even going into it with that knowledge I came away fascinated by the way the show chose not to implicate him. Rather, to me, “Let the Rain Fall,” in Alex Joseph Grayson‘s magnificent performance, is not a confession but rather a portrait of a man who has been broken by a violent, unjust system.

It was only after the second time I saw it that I read that people think the show points to Conley as the killer, which I was totally baffled by. Now, having listened to the OBC recording, I definitely understand how Conley’s character might’ve been played to implicate him--but I do think they removed that implication completely in the revival, despite not altering his lines or songs, which needless to say was I think absolutely the right choice. It not only draws off at least a portion of the racial bias baked into the text, but also better supports the production’s overall interest in difficulty and ambiguity, in overturning rocks to see what’s underneath--but also then making the audience sit with what that is, and not providing solutions or easy answers.

#parade #parade musical #parade broadway #anyway the fact that alex joseph grayson didn't get a tony nomination is a fucking travesty

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olderthannetfic · 2 years

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I’ve been lurking here for a while now and I just gotta say this. There’s this constant undercurrent argument about lgbtq/cis harassment. LGBTQ anons and commenters describing how they’re harassed for their lgbtq headcanons, and cis anons and commenters describing how they’re harassed for their cis headcanons and it often seems neither side fully accepts the reality of the other.

Let me start by saying that historically, of course it is the lgbtq side that has had it much worse in terms of suppression and harassment. There’s no question about that and anyone denying that is dreaming.

The thing is, in this current climate, no one has it better. Both sides are right and both sides are wrong. It all depends where you choose to share your headcanons and content. On Reddit for example, lgbtq headcanons and fan content will get a lot of abuse, on Tumblr, cis headcanons and content gets harassment and let’s not pretend otherwise. Both sides face unwanted interactions and bullying and saying that getting shit for cis headcanons and content doesn’t matter because historically they’ve had it too good…excuse me, but two wrongs don’t make a right.

The ones harassing lgbtq members of fandom are toxic, conservative and incel types. The ones harassing cis members are the militant, vocal minority of the lgbtq community. Let’s not pretend that the average teenage girl/boy who just wants to doodle their favourite ship after school is the one hurling abuse. It’s coming from people with extreme views and they’re present on both sides.

The problem comes from two things. Firstly, where you post about your headcanons. I post m/f fan content and on some platforms it’s very well received, on others not so much. Secondly, there are many people who, either through plain ignorance or wilful stupidity, equate people not explicitly agreeing with their headcanons or content as a moral failing.

Antis do it. But proshippers do it too. I’ve seen plenty of subtle and not so subtle examples from anons and commenters here.

Let me be frank. Many cis people are not interested in lgbtq headcanons. They just aren’t. It is not their experience. They can’t relate to it. It isn't a sign of phobia or hate. Just like I’m sure many lgbtq people are not particularly interested cis/hetero headcanons. And let me very clear I am talking about HEADCANONS ONLY here. Personally, I’m not interested in seeing posts describing in detail why a character from X anime is gay/lesbian/bi/trans/pan/ace etc when it has never been officially confirmed. I am not interested in reading HEADCANONED m/m, f/f or other lgbtq fanfic or seeing that fanart. If you like that sort of thing, fantastic. You do you. I, personally, do not care about or spend time thinking about characters' sexualities beyond canon. Conor and Oliver from ‘How To Get Away With Murder’? Adorable. Soojong and Taehoon from ‘An Innocent Sin’? Compelling. Deku and Bakugo? Nope. Sherlock and Watson? No thanks. I’ll never see that as anything more than a wonderful friendship.

And the thing is, I’m sure there are people who will get really, really irrationally aggressive about me saying this. Who think that because I quietly have zero interest in and avoid lgbtq headcanons that that somehow makes me phobic or hateful towards the lgbtq community. And I have to say, what I enjoy in my fandom space has absolutely no bearing on what I do and how I treat people in real life, as hard as that is to believe for many active in fandom spaces. For some reason, it’s fiction is not the same as reality until you don’t engage with or produce fan content in the ‘right’ way.

Someone not interested in engaging with or supporting or even liking particular headcanons, no matter how popular they are, has nothing to say about their actual morals. Not being interested in and not hyping up this or that headcanon and instead producing content that's the opposite of a popular headcanon is not the same as actively hating a real life group of people. And I’m surprised I have to say this but I do.

I will march with and stand with whatever group is being unfairly treated, whether it’s based on class, sex, race or other and campaign for social and political change FOR REAL PEOPLE because that’s what actually matters. Just because I mute and block the m/m tag in my fandom doesn’t make me homophobic or hateful. You know why I block it? Because m/m does absolutely nothing for me, but more importantly, I’m in love with one of the main characters and seeing him romantically involved with anyone, girl or guy, makes me upset. So I block all romantic and shippy tags related to the character. Sometimes it’s just like that. It has nothing to do with being against the lgbtq community but for very strange and personal reasons. Or very benign reasons. Maybe people just don’t want to deal with sexuality discourse in their fandom space because it’s where they come to relax and forget about all political and social stuff and just shitpost memes.

Your headcanons are your headcanons and no one will take them away from you. Both cis and lgbtq sides get shit for their content from a vocal, toxic minority on different platforms these days and everyone needs to remember the old ‘Don’t like, don’t read.’ The more we keep going on about who has it worse, the more divisive fandom spaces will become, even worse than they are now.

I loathe headcanon posts in general, though I like well-supported meta essays.

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twistedtummies2 · 1 year

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The Price May Be Right - Honorable Mentions

Welcome to “The Price May Be Right!” Starting tomorrow, I’ll be counting down My Top 31 Favorite Vincent Price Performances & Appearances! The countdown will cover movies, TV productions, and many more forms of media…and the same goes for today’s post. Before the countdown begins in earnest, today I want to present some Honorable Mentions. These Twisted Ten Performances ALMOST made the cut, but not quite…

1. Dr. Malcolm Wells, from The Bat.

“The Bat” is considered one of Price’s earliest and most iconic successes. It’s a bit ironic because, in the film, Price does not play the main antagonist, nor even the main protagonist, but simply a supporting role. This murder mystery feature focuses on a detective story author, Cornelia Van Gorder – played by Agnes Moorehead – who finds herself hunted by a shadow serial killer known as The Bat. In the story, Dr. Wells is a friend of Van Gorder’s: a physician and scientist who has a strange interest in the study of bats. Right from the start, we know that Wells is not all he seems to be, as – near the beginning of the film – Wells finds out that Van Gorder’s associate, a banker named Fleming, has swindled money from his own bank. He murders Fleming and covers up the crime, intending to find where the man hid the loot and take it all for himself. As it turns out, the Bat is seeking the same treasure, putting the killer and Dr. Wells on a collision course. Despite only playing a supporting part in the story, Price’s fame was already so highly on the rise that he received top billing at the time, and continues to receive it to this day. The film is a simple but effective little “Whodunnit?” with a dark and Gothic edge: it’s no wonder it’s still considered a highlight in the man’s career.

2. Geoffrey Radcliffe, from The Invisible Man Returns.

This was essentially Vincent’s start in the genre where he would be most well-known: horror films. “The Invisible Man Returns” is the sequel to the original 1933 film “The Invisible Man,” starring Claude Rains and based on the H.G. Wells novel of the same name. In this film, Vincent plays Geoffrey Radcliffe: a wrongly condemned gentleman who has been framed for the murder of his brother. Radcliffe meets Frank Griffin – the brother of the original Invisible Man – while in prison, and discovers that Frank somehow learned the secret of the invisibility serum from his brother before Jack eventually went insane and faced his final fate. Seeking revenge on those who framed him and killed and his own brother, Geoffrey convinces Frank to inject him with the serum, and thus goes on a quest to catch the real murderers and clear his name. It’s a race against time, for the drugs used to create the infamous potion cause one to steadily regress in sanity over time: Radcliffe has to fight through the mental-maddening concoction, and find some way to stop the criminals…before he becomes a mad killer himself. The film paces a lot of the same territory as the first movie, but with a few special twists, such as the revenge plot and the fact that Radcliffe actually gets a happy ending in comparison to Jack Griffin. Price was a superb choice to take over for Claude Rains, given his own mellifluous voice and elegant physical performances. Indeed, Price would technically play the character more often than Rains: eight years after the film’s debut, Price would reprise the role for a brief and humorous cameo at the end of the horror-comedy classic, “Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein.”

3. His Appearance on Holiday Startime.

“Holiday Startime” was a Christmas variety special that aired in 1970. It featured a series of bizarre and humorous sketches, all played by popular actors of the time period. Arguably the most famous sketch from the special was Vincent Price’s appearance. Price, beyond his work as actor, was known as a gourmet and talented cook. He was also known for his love of wine. The sketch parodies both of these elements, as Price – satirizing popular cooking shows – performs a silly skit where he tries to recycle various holiday leftovers…all while staggeringly intoxicated. The sequence is riotously funny, and – as you would expect with something from Vincent Price – ends with a little jab at his horror career, with a spoof on Jekyll & Hyde that results from Vincent drinking an unusual cocktail. It’s eight-and-a-half minutes of complete silliness that’s well worth looking up.

4. James Reavis, from The Baron of Arizona.

While I don’t think this Western has aged particularly well, due to some of its subject matter, Price’s performance in the picture is still quite laudable. “The Baron of Arizona” tells the (fictionalized, of course) true story of James Reavis: a notorious con artist who tried to convince the United States Government to give him full control over the state of Arizona, by claiming a young girl he is attached to – Sofia – is a long-lost aristocrat with a land claim on the state, and then marrying her once she is old enough, so he can inherit the properties. Both the film and the character carry much ambiguity: Reavis is a scoundrel, and as the film goes on his actions become increasingly despicable, but even up to the very end it’s hard to completely hate him. His motivations for why he does what he does turn out to have some surprising empathy to them, and his relationship with Sofia – while EXTREMELY bizarre – does have its touching moments. While he only sees her as a means to an end at first, as time comes on he does learn to care about her, and she, in turn, admires him. The movie is somewhat forgotten today, but it’s worth checking out, despite its more bizarre elements.

5. The Magic Mirror, from Faerie Tale Theatre.

Price appeared twice on this television series, which adapted numerous classic fairy-tales and fantasy stories in a deliberately theatrical manner, hence its title. Every episode featured an all-star cast to help boost it up. In one episode, “The Boy Who Left Home to Find Out About the Shivers,” Price acts simply as the offscreen narrator; his presence is not a coincidence, as the episode pays subtle homage to classic horror, with actors like David Warner and Christopher Lee having roles in the story, and making numerous references to Dracula and other chillers. However, even more noteworthy than that is Price’s role as the Magic Mirror, in the show’s adaptation of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” Left to act with nothing but his face and voice, Price manages to become possibly the best part of the episode, and an excellent foil to Lynn Redgrave’s wildly over-the-top depiction of the Evil Queen. Alongside the Disney version, his Magic Mirror is quite possibly my favorite take on the concept…mostly BECAUSE it’s Vincent Price doing it, to be fair.

6. Michael Bastion, from The Snoop Sisters.

“The Snoop Sisters” was a four-episode-long murder mystery miniseries that aired between December of 1973 and March of 1974. The four episodes were the disconnected adventures of two loveable old biddies – the titular Snoop Sisters – who continuously find themselves roped into “Whodunnit?” plots. (As you do.) In the fourth and final story, “A Black Day for Bluebeard,” Price plays a friend of the sisters, Michael Bastion: a once-renowned but now fading film star who is looking to find a way to rekindle his career. When his wife is murdered, Bastion is accused, and the Sisters need to find a way to save him from persecution. In a way, Bastion is Price playing an exaggerated and humorous self-parody: like Vincent, Bastion is an actor known for his hammy acting style and proficiency in horror movies. Also like Vincent, Bastion is a connoisseur of wine and fine foods. My, what perfect typecasting. :P

7. Oscar Wilde, from Diversions & Delights.

It grieves me to leave this performance out of the main running, but I feel it’s the only fair thing to do. “Diversions & Delights” was a one-man show Price performed on Broadway, late in his career. It was a biographical play about the life and times of Oscar Wilde, as told by Wilde himself. Many critics who saw the performance in its time considered it to be quite possibly Vincent Price’s Magnum Opus: reviews applauded the sensitive and subtle way he portrayed Wilde, while still having a sense of needed flamboyance and charismatic stage presence, befitting both the part and the show. Unfortunately, I’ve never actually SEEN this stage show. I was lucky enough to find an audio recording someone made of the play, but due to both the age/quality of that recording, and the fact that I feel plays really do need to be SEEN to be fully appreciated, I don’t think it’s fair to give Price’s performance here a place in the Top 31. This is the ONLY reason I give this a mere Honorable Mention; if you can find a recording of this show somewhere, I urge you strongly to give it a listen or a watch.

8. Professor Jarrod, from House of Wax.

Much like “The Invisible Man Returns,” this is another classic Price horror outing that many claim jumpstarted his career in fright films. Indeed, Price’s portrayal of Professor Jarrod – the demented master of a wax museum, where people are secretly turned into dummies on display – is considered one of his most recognized and popular performances. Honestly, there’s not much to say here except that, while I DO love Price’s performance in this film, and the film in general, I just like other roles and performances more, or at least find there’s more I have to say about them.

9. Professor Multiple, from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

“Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea” was a 1960s TV series that can best be described as “Star Trek, But Underwater.” It focused on the sci-fi adventures of a group of submarine explorers, with stories that ranged from the horrifying to the kooky. Price’s appearance in the episode “The Deadly Dolls” falls somewhere in the middle. In this episode, Price plays master puppeteer Professor Multiple, who is hired to entertain the crew aboard the submarine for a while. (He’s surprisingly good at it.) However, after the show is over, Multiple is revealed to have darker ulterior motives, as his puppets come to life and begin replacing the members of the crew, as the first part of a mad scheme to – you guessed it – take over the world. The mystery of these living puppets, why they’re doing what they do, and where they all come from is what drives the plot. As the story goes on, it becomes clear that Multiple himself is not all he seems…but I mustn’t say more, or I shall spoil the rest of the story.

10. The Narrator, for The Town Too Tough to Die.

This is a very different option on the list, but it’s one I just HAD to bring up. If you go on a trip to Tombstone, Arizona, you will find a little building called “The Historama.” Inside is a theater where you can see a special documentary film called “The Town Too Tough to Die,” which details the history of Tombstone and a lot of its most famous historical events. Not only does the documentary feature footage, but live practical effects in the form of a huge model that takes through different time periods in Tombstone, with working animatronics and effects. All of this is narrated by the late, great Vincent Price. I got to visit this attraction during a trip to Tombstone almost a decade ago, and I have never forgotten it. If you ever get a chance to see this attraction yourself, do so; it’s truly a one-of-a-kind experience.

Like I said, tomorrow, the countdown shall begin with my 31st Favorite Vincent Price Performance. There will be no hints for THIS countdown, so you’ll just have to wait and see what surprises are in store. ;)

#list #countdown #honorable mentions #the price may be right #top 31 vincent price performances #vincent price #actors #acting #theatre #movies #film #tv #animation #music #and more

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bindtorturekillme · 1 month

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Your Eyes, Vacant and Stained

Ch.9 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

They did this until they got to the edge of town where they sped off onto the highway towards their next stop, Utah.

“Ah, finally…” Gerard tapped away on his phone beside Frank.

Frank refused to take his eyes off the road as civilization fell away to be replaced with an endlessly flat desert framed half by the nearly clear blue sky and half by tall, brown mountains.

Warnings

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part nine otherwise, enjoy ♥

Frank awoke the next morning bitterly cold with an intense craving for alcohol almost immediately. He lapped at his dry lips and searched around the now empty room for water but was unable to locate any.

He was slow moving, but the curiosity of where everyone, and all their things disappeared too was enough to push him to dress quickly and put everything he brought back into his duffle. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he left for the lobby where most of the group was.

Ray was leaning against the front desk in front of Charlotte, obviously flexing slightly. Charlotte had a soft blush on her face as she shamelessly flirted back. They hardly noticed Frank as he hid in the shadows of the hallway, not wanting to ruin their moment alone.

Frank could see Gerard and Mikey shoving bags into the RV; Scarlet making her way back inside as he examined the area.

Frank decided to wait until Scarlet walked through the front doors before letting himself be seen. Still, no one looked his way anyways because Scarlet immediately started talking, “The mini fridges have now also been stocked. Those plus most of the big fridge and some of the freezer space should keep us fed at least until we find another place safe enough to loot. Morning, Frank.” Scarlet casually greeted Frank, making Ray and Charlotte almost jump when they realize he was standing behind them.

“Oh, hey man!” Ray pushed himself off the counter to greet him, not fully turning away from Charlotte who attempted (poorly) to hide her disappointment of her time alone with Ray being interrupted.

Frank waved weakly, Scarlet continued without hesitation, “There’s enough room in the freezer for a good bit of lick-orrr,” Scarlet mimicked drinking with her thumb and pinky, smiling at herself. “Yeah soo… I dunno what you guys wanna bring but I think everyone could pick like three, maybe four, bottles of liquor from the backroom and we can discuss what doesn’t fit when the time comes.”

Scarlet smiled with all her teeth; Frank felt like his own void beside the three of them. He didn’t feel like he belonged.

Ray’s fist banging the desk twice shocked the silent room to alarm again, “Welp! I guess Lottie and I can grab some bottles—”

“I’ll come with you.” Scarlet declared, all three leaving Frank to stand alone in the lobby. He watched as Gerard and Mikey finished shoving their bags into the RV’s storage. Absently, he walked out to them.

Gerard and Mikey were dressed very similarly, band tee and jeans; both men having noticeable sweat staining their armpits. The summer Nevada sun beat down on Frank as he got closer to them, causing a sweat to break slightly across his forehead.

“Morning.” Frank barely spoke louder than a grumble, Gerard turned to face him with a slight grin on his face ever so slightly smirking as their eyes met. Mikey did not turn around.

“Morning, how’d you sleep?” Mikey slammed the storage door shut and boarded the RV without saying a word, but neither Gerard nor Frank really gave a shit about his attitude right now.

“Fine…” They stood awkwardly together, Gerard producing a cigarette seemingly out of nowhere. He lit it and inhaled, making Frank almost forget how to breathe as he watched, mesmerized.

“Sorry,” Gerard inhaled again, Frank’s confusion painted on his face as he noticed with Gerard’s next exhale that he was actively trying not to blow the smoke in his direction. So, he remembered his manners… “We ran out of space after the girls piled their bags in.” Gerard thumbed towards the door Mikey slammed shut only minutes earlier.

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Gerard interrupted Frank just to pause to take another hit. “It’s alright though, my stuff couldn’t fit either.” His devious smirk grew while he routinely smoked. “It’s not like there’s enough room for all six of us in the RV anyways,” he shrugged. “Figured we could take the pick-up too.” Inhaling…

And holding it.

As if he was using it to count the seconds before Frank responded.

“Okay… Makes sense.” A gruesome silence enveloped them for too long; Gerard’s smoke infused exhale was silent.

In the same moment that the RV’s engine startled them back to reality, Ray and the girls bustled out of the double doors carrying only two bottles of wine and a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey clearly missing a handful of shots worth.

“That doesn’t look like much.” Frank directed their attention to the three moving towards them, wanting the silence to end.

Charlotte groaned, nodding, but Ray was the one to speak up, “We drank more than we should’ve last night.” Gerard scoffed, flicking the ash from his cigarette. The girls made their way onto the RV as its engine kicked back to life.

Ray paused between them, feeling the heavy tension between them. Gerard smoked; Frank squirmed. “What’re you guys doing with those?” He pointed at the pile of bags that belonged to Gerard and Frank that were sitting on the pavement.

“No more room in the camper storage,” Gerard’s gaze lingered longer on Frank between his flicks over to Ray. “Figured we could take the truck. Maybe get a head start and drag away the attention of the zombies before you guys leave.” Frank noted the fact that Gerard finally called them zombies, after so much resistance, before realizing Gerard’s plan was to essentially make them bait.

“Oh… That’s actually a pretty good idea.” Ray seemed to not notice Frank’s face shifting to fear as he stared at Gerard. “Did you tell Mikey, yet?”

Gerard shook his head, half of his mouth opening into a smirk as he spoke, “Not yet, we just thought of it.” Frank stood stunned as Ray nodded in understanding.

“I’ll let him know, just give us a heads up when you’re ready to go.” Ray patted Gerard’s shoulder before making his way into the RV as well. Leaving Gerard smirking down at Frank.

“I didn’t agree to be bait, Gerard,” Frank threw his hands into the air, “I haven’t even gotten to shower yet!” He crossed them over his chest. Gerard’s smirk just grew into a devilish grin as he finished off the cigarette, crushing the orange butt under his foot.

“I haven’t showered either. We can lure the zombies away then throw them off with our dead scent. Like they do in the TV shows.” Gerard shrugged, shoving his hands carelessly into his pockets.

“Our zombies, I appreciate you finally calling them that, by the way, are a lot different than the shit we see on TV,” Frank paused. “Also, this isn’t fucking TV!”

Gerard chucked before leaning over and grabbing both of their bags and Gerard’s extra backpack. Turning on his heels, Gerard set off towards the truck that sat on the opposite side of the parking lot, much closer to the gate than the RV was.

Scrambling after him, Frank was sure there was nothing he could say that was going to convince Gerard not to ride alone with him. There was only a minor amount of anxiety that built in Frank’s stomach about finally being alone with Gerard again, and while they were both conscious.

“Hey!” Gerard ignored Frank as he tucked a bag under the front passenger seat, moving around to the other side to shove the other duffle under the driver’s side seat. “Gerard.” Frank said sternly, moving around the back of the truck to the driver’s side to meet Gerard at the door. “What kind of an idea is this. We could probably all fit in that RV, plus why would we want to separate from everyone else?”

Gerard straightened, turning to loom down at Frank, making him feel smaller than usual. “It’s payback for what happened yesterday.”

Frank’s face heated, red running up his neck into his nose. “Pay…back…” In a flash, Gerard had yanked his shotgun from the front seat and pressed the barrel to the underside of Frank’s chin. Keeping the gun parallel to their bodies, it was unseen from the RV.

Gerard’s eyes flashed down to Frank’s growing pants before shooting back up to meet his gaze. Embarrassment harnessing him, Frank mindlessly swallowed, hard.

“I saw what you left for me, that was one of my only black shirts.” Gerard tsked. “But I was talking about freezing up at the gate.” Gerard dropped the gun from his chin and slid it onto the floor of the driver’s seat.

Frank exhaled sharply, attempting to remember the fear he felt in the hopes it also killed his boner. “I guess that’s fair…” He agreed, but Gerard moved past him to greet someone else. Frank turned around to meet Mikey approaching.

“Ray told me what your plan was, sure you want to go alone?” Mikey completely ignored Frank standing there. Gerard didn’t attempt to include him in their conversation either.

“We’ll be fine, I’ve gotta plan.” Gerard shrugged carelessly, shoving his fists into his pockets again while Mikey’s eyes drilled into him. “Here’s where I was thinking we could check out next.” Gerard pulled his phone out and pulled up a map to a location Frank was unable to make out from where he was standing. His unfamiliarity of the west gave him anxiety that he attempted to ease by indulging in trusting Gerard.

Mikey nodded, pulled the address up on his own phone and began walking back to the RV without another word.

“Where are we…-“

“Utah, baby.” Gerard hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, flashing a wicked smile at Frank with a cigarette between his teeth. Frank wasn’t sure how the cigarette got there but he desperately wanted to huff it after he watched Gerard suck on it. Gerard slammed his door shut and turned the ignition. As Frank made his way around the truck to hop in alongside him, Gerard clicked the locks and met Frank’s now panicking eyes.

“What the fu-“

“Open the gate. You froze yesterday, prove to us we should keep you around.” Gerard inhaled deeply and puffed his smoke straight at Frank like a dragon. Frank coughed dramatically, stumbling further away from the truck.

Grumbling, Frank made his way to the front gate. Gripping two of the bars, he scouted around the area. The street seemed to have cleared since yesterday, it was difficult to see within the houses. the couple roaming undead seeming to be soliciting close to homes with noise coming from them.

Frank began to push the gate open again, pushing away the memories from the previous day. The gate squealed as he pushed but nothing could distract him until he heard the slam of a loud, plastic door.

Frank’s eyes whipped around to the RV and saw Mikey, Scarlet, and Charlotte nearly pressed against the glass of the windshield in the RV. Gerard laid back, relaxed in the front seat of the truck; one of his arms stretched around the passengers headrest while the other brought and pulled away the cigarette he was indulging on.

If it hadn’t been for the loud shattering of glass to his right, Frank wouldn’t have realized some zombies had been alerted. Outside of a nearby house, Frank saw half of a body sticking out of a window on the first floor of a nearby home.

The window was small, rectangular and barely allowing the bloated undead to get through. There were three other zombies in that same yard who instantly became interested in the body that flung itself out the window, screaming a gutturally bloody screech.

Frank froze, his feet and head felt hot, but the rest of his body was frozen even as a line of sweat began to bead across his forehead.

The body in the window continued the scream, but Frank watched as it planted two hands into the glass shards still jutting from the window frame and pushing itself up like a baby learning how to crawl.

The zombie’s face contorted into a scrunched screech as it threw its head back, screaming in an octave Frank had ever heard before. Blood running from its eyes, mouth and palms, it dragged its body out of the window. It didn’t seem to notice it was dragging glass through its body until the body was sliced open, from chin to stomach, as it fell out into the grass below.

Frank watched in horror as it began to drag itself through the yard. The left side slacking behind the right, it whipped its arm up and pointed it in Frank’s direction, leading the other undead in the yard to turn and stare at Frank.

And Frank did the same thing he did yesterday, he fucking froze.

Before a horde could form, Gerard was by Franks side, pushing him and the gate together as if it weighed nothing. “Get in the truck!” He barked, pushing Frank away from him.

Frank hesitated again, but only momentarily before twisting and stumbling to the truck. Without thinking, he pulled himself into the driver’s seat, smashed the gear to drive and squealed past the gate into the road.

Frank came to a squealing stop as Gerard ran up and hauled himself into the passenger seat. Without another thought, Frank followed Gerard’s plan to distract the zombies which were all now very interested in getting to their truck.

Frank pushed his palm deeply into the wheels horn as he watched the already forming group move from the lawns into the street next to him, steadily increasing in speed.

“I hope you know how we’re going to get them off of us.” Frank turned to Gerard as he floored the gas pedal. The truck choked and coughed repeatedly as it kicked off into the street, successfully catching the attention of the horde.

“Slow down a bit, let them chase us. Just keep going straight.” Gerard was strangely calm, which helped Frank level his own anxiety as he relaxed off the speed. “You go too fast; they can’t keep up with us. Thus, we lose their attention, and our plan was a waste.”

Gerard pointed Frank on and off the main road and through numerous neighborhoods, directing him when to slow down and speed up. Frank quickly realized they were leading zombies off the main roads and leaving them within the neighborhoods to clear the road.

They did this until they got to the edge of town where they sped off onto the highway towards their next stop, Utah.

“Ah, finally…” Gerard tapped away on his phone beside Frank. Frank refused to take his eyes off the road as civilization fell away to be replaced with an endlessly flat desert framed half by the nearly clear blue sky and half by tall, brown mountains.

“What?” Frank popped the ballooning silence as Gerard continued typing on his phone.

“Ray finally got to me…” He stopped again, Frank was beginning to interpret this as stand-offish and felt like he had just disappointed Gerard further by freezing up again earlier. But, as Frank opened his mouth to further probe, Gerard continued, “Ray said they’re about halfway to Utah.” Gerard paused again; Frank swore he could hear his fingers tapping but the truck groaned much louder. “So… we’re probably like, ten minutes behind them?”

Gerard put the phone down and stared directly at Frank, but Frank continued to watch the road. Much like the video Gerard had shown him of the piles of melting, fly infested zombies, these roads had smaller mounds of bodies. They weren’t as fly infested, and Frank thought he could still tell which body parts were where, as these bodies weren’t nearly as disfigured and cooked. Vultures could be seen poking and slurping pieces of meat; the meat almost looked a sickly green on the inside, but Frank attempted to convince himself the sun was making him see that.

Even though they quickly drove, Frank was unable to prevent his brain from showing him images of the zombies attacking someone – or something – and melting together under the scorching sun as the ground bakes them from their feet up.

The visual of maggots being laid within the squishing flesh, feasting away at half eaten bodies that have been bubbling like cheese on a frying pan made Frank’s stomach turn and he contemplated lighting up.

“It sounds like the next place they want to stop is Cedar Cit-ay!” Gerard grew a toothy grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mikey wants to stop by the mountains on their way… We have time to kill.” He continued, shrugging. Frank attempted to ignore the zombies that weren’t quite melted but didn’t quite look… normal anymore. Some were still able to roam the dry, prickling landscape but many were covered in splinters from the cacti, or were half melted and stuck in place.

Gerard turned away to grit at the ugly green sprouts of grass that now littered the desert. The cacti looked thick and tall but the grass growing from the hot earth looked like the tufts of animal fur you pull off cats and dogs during shedding season.

“Mikey likes to hike?” Frank tried to sound cool, calm, and casual. Pretending everything between Mike and him was fine.

“Oh, he loves to, back home he loved to walk our dogs, it was his thing…” Gerard fell short, and Frank heard it in the way he spoke. There was more to that memory, but Gerard was unable to push it out. And Frank wasn’t one to pry so he dropped it.

They drove in silence for a long time, eventually the roads cleared more and more. Neither said anything, but Frank could feel the tension growing. A little over half an hour into their drive the blue and orange ‘Welcome to Utah’ sign came into view.

“Life elevated… Isn’t Colorado taller than Utah?” Gerard turned his attention to Frank, stunning him out of his nearly dissociative state.

“Is it?” Frank had never traveled much before work, and that was just a recent perk from his last promotion. He had no idea how tall a state was, or if that was even the proper term to describe one state’s elevation to another.

“Colorado has Pikes Peak, it’s like one of the tallest mountains in the U.S… I think…” Gerard rubbed his hairless chin thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you look it up?” With Frank’s family lacking a lot of common sense, he grew accustomed to telling others to look up their questions rather than ask him for the answer.

Gerard caught Frank’s gaze when he lifted his phone to show his black lockscreen, pointing a finger in the top corner. “No signal.”

“Darn.” Frank said, emotionlessly.

“Hey!” As Frank turned to look at him, Gerard lightly slapped his hand against Frank’s cheek a few times. “Think through how you’re going to act before I make you pay me back for my shirt.” Gerard held Frank’s cheek as he spoke. Frank watched as Gerard’s eyes darkened, and his smile grew devilish.

Gerard rubbed his thumb just under Frank’s bottom lip, causing his mouth to slack open slightly. Gerard tsked, “You’re so fucking cute.” Gerard forced Frank to rip his eyes away and back towards the road. “Watch the road. I’m not dying in a car accident.” Frank felt painfully hard as his erection grew into the zipper of his jeans again.

Gerard smiled at himself as he relaxed his head against his headrest. “I don’t think there’s really anything out here for us to hit.” Frank waved a hand out at the landscape in front of them. Since it was hardly past noon now, the sun was high above and the zombies that were still stumbling around were being slowed every second.

Gerard lolled his head to the side to gaze at Frank, “Don’t say that. We don’t have any wood to knock on.” He smirked, watching Frank closely.

“You’re superstitious?”

“You’re not?” Confusion twisted Frank’s face.

“Why would I be?” As if an otherworldly presence heard Frank testing the universe, a loud popping sound exploded around the two of them. Both men jumped slightly and began looking around for the source.

Immediately, the scraping of metal against asphalt took over the air and screeched through their ear drums. Frank swerved off the side of the road and slammed on the brake, thankful that both decided to buckle up as they jolted forward.

The screeching stopped as the truck coughed again, choking on it for a moment before going silent as Frank put the truck into park and pulled the key back towards him.

Gerard was out first, nearly hopping to the ground, already examining the back tire on his side. Frank got out and saw both tires on his side were fine. Making his way around the back, he immediately saw the shredded rubber remains of the back tire.

Gerard just squatted in front of it, examining it as if there was nothing he could do.

“Fuck.” Was all Frank could get out. Gerard stood and slapped his palm against Frank’s shoulder.

“Good job, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You basically caused this.” Gerard shrugged, giggling slightly to himself. Frank punched him, but it hardly made Gerard move.

“All because I couldn’t knock on wood?! That’s bullshit. This isn’t even my truck! Fuck, why didn’t I think to check ANYTHING before I took it. What was I even thinking.” Frank was panicking now, rambling because of it. He squatted then, holding his head in his hands as he stared at the ground.

“Hey,” Gerard got down to his level, this time gently placing his hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Look,” Gerard turned and pointed in the direction they were driving in. “See that building? We can make it there before the end of the day, here…” Gerard pulled his phone out and played around on the map they were using to get to St. George.

He zoomed in close to the building nearby on the map but no data about it was coming up. Gerard was able to see it would take almost an hour to walk. Frank returned his head to his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

Gerard let him mope for a few minutes while he leaned against the truck and smoked a cigarette. As he reached the end, he watched Frank, who hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes of them being there.

Gerard squatted in front of Frank and offered him the cigarette. Frank couldn’t see him, but he opened his eyes at the scent. Staring at the cigarette for a moment, Gerard pushed it towards him to offer it again and Frank took it. Inhaling deeply and holding it momentarily, he coughed it out. Gerard smirked at him as he took another big hit from the dying butt.

When Frank offered it back to Gerard, he silently offered him the rest and Frank silently thanked him by finishing it.

“So, if we get going now, we can get there before two. Hopefully when we get there one of us will get service, or they’ll have wi-fi we can connect to.” Gerard pulled Frank up with him and began to lead him to the truck to grab their bags.

“Do you think Ray or Mikey will see the truck and know it’s us?” Frank questioned, mindlessly grabbing a duffle while Gerard grabbed a bag.

“If they haven’t already gone by.” Frank dissociated slightly, attempting to push away any strong feelings as the buzzing of tobacco kicked him into gear.

“I thought they were stopping somewhere?” Frank stuttered as Gerard moved around to the driver’s side, grabbing the last duffle and his gun.

Gerard just shrugged, “They could’ve, or they could’ve kept going. I haven’t heard from anyone in a while.” Frank did his best to not freak out as he used the buzz to push his feet to move with Gerard towards their destination.

#grank #mcr #frerard #frank iero x gerard way #frank/gerard #frerard fanfic #frerard fanfiction #frank/gerard fanfiction #bandfiction #grank fanfic #mcr fanfic #mcr fanfiction #mine #zombie au

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truckreincarnation · 4 months

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Put me down to rest, I do not wish to see this anymore | Esmée | Trial 4.2 | Re: Nao, Theophania | ATTN: Nao, Theophania

To Nao’s look, she gives a thankful nod. She’d owe him one later, it seems. To confirm her alibi like that so openly…she appreciates it. That at least puts her somewhat in the clear. A look goes to Amber, pointedly avoiding the King’s gaze as she speaks.

“May I move?” She unwraps the red fabric from her waist, her thorn whip she kept on her at all times falling down with a clunk. “I can wrap Nao’s wounds in this so they at the very least have support for it.”

Esmée doesn’t listen if the King speaks, only staring at the Great Tree that oversaw their trials from the very beginning. The one that actually showed remorse for their position here. She didn’t want to give in to any of the others’ jabs and pokes, keeping as much of a level-head as is possible in this moment. When given permission, she quickly moves over to where Nao is standing and when going to wrap their wounds blinks. Ah there’s…none? Curious. The health potion may have done quite well. In that case, she leaves her fabric with them.

“Uh…how severe were your wounds-? I’d assumed some would still be open.” A pause, “Oh if you wanna clean up the blood too, feel free to use the cloth. I’ll wash it later. Amber, if you can deliver my thorn whip to the training hall in the meantime, it’d be appreciated. I don’t want to have a weapon in my hand while I’m this emotional.”

Exercise caution. It wasn’t as though she was feasibly going to hurt another Incarnate, no. She didn’t want to risk swinging at the King amidst all this and just making the situation worse. With that, she closes her eyes- all up until Theophania speaks.

“…What?”

Theophania was the one to check out the slingshot, and attempt to hurt the barrier. Theophania did that? Esmée had originally thought that the slingshot had to play a big part in the murder. That maybe it launched some kind of small explosive into the place and purposefully harmed those she loved but…Theophania’s confusion around the situation was presently clear.

“I…don’t worry. I trust Avery’s judgement so whatever they say, I’ll trust in. If anyone else wishes to take your offer though.” A beat, “..if you need some buffs for healing, too. Just let me know. I can try to call on precognition to heal you some more, too. Just- after some time. 5 minutes.”

Her nose scrunches up in thought.

“The slingshot was caught in the explosion, too. By the looks of it. It was pretty scorched. And well. Broken. It still could’ve fired an explosive but I think it more likely that…ugh. Hang on let me gather my thoughts this is going to be out there.”

“The Barrier is** more of a** shock barrier, right? I’ve never attempted to touch it myself, so I don’t know the exact details but** I doubt that it on its own would’ve caused the explosion.** In fact it may have instead been used as a trigger point. Like…the electricity or lightning from it setting something into motion. A lightning strike can cause a flame- I think? Fuck if I know. I’m no expert.”

Her eyes trail down.

“…I just need to go off my knowledge, regardless. I gotta continue to try-” For their sake, “Right we saw some powders had been taken from the Crafting room. As well as that, in the library books were scattered out detailing how to make bombs - basic ones. For such an explosion it was definitely planned. Though whether it was like Theophania’s intention of finding weak points in the barrier, or something more sinister eludes me. Either way Gunpowder residue was on one desk in the crafting room. A bomb had to be made at some point.”

[Ear Trauma CW]

“Luz and Frank were likely close to it** considering ****the blood in their ears. Being so close to the explosion, the pressure likely damaged their eardrums. Theophania- based on where your flower was, you were a little ways away from them, If I may ask, **do you also have blood in your ears?”

She didn’t want to assume the worst and immediately point a finger for Theophania being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but her attacks on the gate could’ve triggered something far out of her control. It was one theory, at least, but Esmée didn’t know how far it may go.

#Esmée #ch4 #trial4 #submission

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the-firebird69 · 6 months

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My son is trying to get us vehicles for our people and Trump ran over bja and Dave twice and said it was them doing it in him and couldn't help it it was Tommy f and you guys figured it out but still Trump needs to be stopped cold and he is and we need to get rid of him and we need to get rid of him now he's a murderous swine going after his own child. He does not have the AI he's just a moron but that's besides the point I'm putting a new threat assessment up of him right now

Thor Freya

We're going to go after him now and very hard he's a useless prick it's killed all the time and can't figure out people don't want him doing stuff and he's willing to die so we got to kill him ahead of time and we're putting the order out now

Frank Castle hardcastle

This guy is in trouble for trying to help and the idiot next door is making vehicles and says it's him when he's the moron making vehicles we have to go after Trump to take away his factories because he's a huge a****** to our friend and is a moron

Mac

You're a f****** loser Trump you hardly have anything left to your brain the rest of it's going to come out shortly and man are you a loser that's all I can say Joe Watts that's your name you're a loser yeah you're a pile of f****** s*** and airbag you don't do a damn thing that's effective and these people should have got rid of you a long time ago you're running around westboro saying stupid s*** and you're still doing it you don't want my support you don't need my support and I'm not going to give you my support ever and we're taking tons of stuff here and all over the world and people going to take tons of your stuff today they cut you in half here your personal finances youll get it cut in half again. Pretty soon you won't know anything and you won't have money to go anywhere you can be a bum I can been trying to do to me and you're a f****** stupid person I'm turning all the cannons on you now and you ain't going to make it

Zues Hera

I get something you're setting me up every few seconds because that's not possible moron I say you have like once or twice a day in response of your asinine s*** so I guess I'm going to set up and croke and yeah I died the other night not from the head wound but okay I sort of see something I'm going to keep getting killed doing what I'm doing so what

Trump

When is your bothering me and you're a huge f**** and I'm going to get you killed until you're dead fully and if all your people follow you they're going to die too I'm not afraid to say it cuz every damn successful at it and you end up dead you dumb f***

Zues

I sort of get this with bothering him and he's having his killed but so what you're trying to go after him anyways

Joel watts

Good I'm sending order to hit you and your people we're going to take another chunk out of your stupid useless body

Zues Hera

What a joke you are Trump

Olympus

You're an embarrassment Trump to our kind and we hate you we're going after you now

Mac

Just in time when we started clearing you out and there's a ton of you when we found out by the time he gets up and ready to go your idiots will be small again what a heart attack on you stupid c*** Trump

Bitol and Goddess Wife

We have a lot to see this a****** but we can see it directly to him make sure that he's stressed out not our son

Thor Freya

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lucy-sky · 3 years

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The Break of Dawn (Leo Barnes x f!Reader)

You work in a small diner not far from the bus station and try to get over a tragic event that happened to you three years ago. Leo Barnes is one of the steady customers, and at some point you realize there's mutual attraction between the two of you. There's no time for romance though - only one night left before the annual Purge, and Leo has an important job to keep Senator Roan safe as it's the only chance to finally put an end to the Purge.

Words: 3 656

Warnings: Sexual content (not super detailed, I would rate this story as Mature rather than Explicit, but still they f*ck), a bit of angst (trigger warning: loss), but Leo is a caring and protective guy who’s ready to hold you

A/N: My first time writing Leo Barnes or any Frank Grillo character, so please don't be mean :))

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @skvatnavle, @lunamoon-87

“There he is.”

Stella pokes you with her elbow.

“What?”

“Your tough guy. He’s here,” she nods to the corner of the diner and you don’t even need to follow her gesture to know that Leo Barnes is sitting there, his usual spot. He’s a bit early today, and it’s understandable - you too find it harder to sleep well as the Purge is getting closer.

“He’s not my tough guy, Stells,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Tell it to someone else,” she snorts. “So far I’m just wondering how long you’re gonna keep ignoring that sexual tension…”

“Stella, please.”

“What? Honestly, I don’t know why he’s being such a gentleman… But just FYI, y/n… You know it’s not the 19th century and you actually can make the first move?”

“Even if I wanted to, it’s not the right time,” you shrug. “You know he’s doing an important job. He’s got plenty of stuff to think about and it’s definitely not romance.”

“Who’s talking about romance, sis?” Stella laughs. “You’re both so goddamn tense, you need to blow off some steam. No, seriously. You need to get laid. He needs to get laid. It’s just way too obvious!”

“Oh dear god, just please shut up…” you groan.

“Fine,” she gives you a wicked smirk. “If you don’t want him, then I’m bringing his order.”

You chuckle at this.

“Don’t you dare.”

To be completely honest, you can’t deny that Stella is partly right. There is something between you and this grumpy silent man in the corner. But what exactly? You can’t really put it into words, it’s not just the attraction, or sexual tension as Stella says. You do find him handsome though, you admit that. A couple of times when he was wearing a t-shirt, you caught yourself staring at his muscular arms. Yes, guilty. And still… There’s more than that. You’d call it some sort of mutual understanding.

Leo Barnes works for Senator Roan. In the past, he used to be a cop, now he is the head of security for her. You learnt that one night when he was here, having his usual late dinner. The TV was on, evening news, something about the election of course. And suddenly you noticed him there, standing behind Roan’s back with another guy in a formal dark suit. You blinked, stared at the screen, then looked back at him. He caught your glance.

“Is that… you?” you blurted, realizing too late that you said it out loud. But he smiled, and in his smile there was no anger or annoyance.

“Apparently so,” he replied with a soft chuckle and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “How do I look?”

You started talking ever since then. Barnes usually came to the diner twice - in the morning he just had a mug of black coffee, and in the evening he ordered something to eat. Mornings were often crowded as many people passed the diner before heading to work in the city, so you were busy. But the evenings were mostly quiet.

You often stayed at work late, covering Stella who had to run to her kids or another date. You didn’t mind that since work was always your way to escape. Nobody was waiting for you at home anyways. Somehow, Leo Barnes started to keep you company. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were never into heartfelt conversations with the clients here, but something just clicked. Especially after you learnt about his job and it became clear that your views on the Purge are the same.

Many people hate The Purge, as well as many people support it. Some people hate it because they’re scared for their loved ones, their business (small shop owners who don’t have enough money to afford the Purge insurance often suffer), or they hate it just because they’re against violence in general. And the others… They have more personal reasons. You’re one of them. And somehow, even if you don’t know for sure, you just feel like Leo Barnes has personal reasons as well. He never really told you, and you don’t dare to ask because you know well enough how the memories can hurt. You didn’t tell him either. But still, you don’t know how exactly it worked, you just looked at each other and saw it. It’s like an unspoken secret between the two of you. The details don’t matter anyway. Your stories are in the past and you can’t change it, but what you can change is the future. If Senator Charlene Roan wins the election - the Purge will finally end. You can help with your vote, and Leo… Leo is determined to do anything to help her survive this year. Just this year, and hopefully no one would ever have to survive this nightmare again. You both want it more than anything else.

“Hey.”

You smile at Leo as you place a mug of coffee and a plate on the table in front of him.

“Hey…” he looks confused when he sees the food. Nothing really special: eggs, bacon, some beans and a toast. “What’s that? I... only asked for the usual…”

“Just thought you might need some extra fuel,” you shug. “Only one night left before the Purge, so… you must have a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah, you’re right… I actually do,” he gives you a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” you nod and turn to leave, but Leo suddenly touches your arm and you freeze.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you face him again.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yes… Why are you asking?..” you give him a puzzled look.

“Well uh… To be honest I’d be happier if you took a day off… You know, just to make sure you’re safe…”

You feel the heat on your cheeks. Does… does he worry about you?.. The realization makes your heart shrink for a second. Apparently he’s not just someone who understands, he’s someone who cares. You already forgot what it feels like when someone really cares. Well, of course there are your parents, but they’re far away… And Leo, he’s right here.

“It’s okay,” you say, trying not to look too baffled. “Tomorrow we’re closing the diner earlier, right after lunchtime, so I’ll be home long before the Purge begins. There’s no need to worry, really.”

“Good,” Barnes nods. “I just… don’t think I’ll be able to come over and check on you tomorrow, so I just…” he stutters as if trying to figure out something to say.

“I just want you to be careful, okay?” he finally utters, and to your surprise his hand reaches yours, squeezing it lightly. “Just be careful, yeah?”

“Yeah, I... Of course I will,” you try to smile reassuringly. “I promise.”

There’s about five minutes left before closing hour when Leo appears. As usual, you’re still here, helping Mary, the chief and the owner’s wife with all the cleaning up after the working day. While she’s in the kitchen, you wipe the tables, TV-set is murmuring something in the corner. The election, the purge… Always the same.

“You’re closed?” he asks, meeting your gaze. “Sorry, I… Didn’t realize it’s that late already…”

“We’re about to close, but it’s fine, come in!” you assure smiling at him maybe a bit more brightly than you wanted to show. “We’ll get you something to eat, right, Mary?”

“Sure thing,” she replies from the kitchen door. You weren’t the only one who saw Barnes on TV. Since then, he became an always welcome guest as the diner owners supported Roan as well. Otherwise, to be honest you don’t think you could possibly be able to work for them.

You put a plate with food in front Leo as he takes a seat at the counter. While he’s eating silently, you wipe the coffee mugs and place them carefully on the shelf. The TV keeps talking. Something about the bloomimg economy and international murder tourists who keep coming to the US to take part in the annual Purge. You glance at the screen, see their gut-wrenchingly excited faces.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath and shake your head. “Fucking insane.”

“True,” you nearly jump at his words, as you didn’t realize Leo heard you. “I knew people who killed someone on Purge night for… different reasons. But those who kill just because they enjoy it, for fun or sport or whatever you call it - those are the most dangerous.”

“They’re just psychopaths. People like that should be kept in mental hospitals or something. But they just walk around as if nothing’s wrong with them. And the new founding fathers keep telling them how proud they are of them…”

“Roan’s gonna make it stop,” Mary joins the conversation. “This lady’s got some balls, am I right, sir?”

“Yes ma’am,” Barnes chuckles. “She absolutely got them.”

You leave the diner together with Leo. Mary chose to stay inside, waiting for her husband to come pick her up in a few minutes. The night is a bit chilly; you’re shivering, not sure if it’s the cold or the fact that you’re alone with him for the first time.

“Where’s your car?” he asks.

“Oh um… It’s in the service actually. So I’m going to the bus station right over there,” you point. Barnes frowns.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Stella promised to give me a ride home. Leo… I’ll be okay. It’s not the first Purge night in my life, you know.”

“Right,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, since I’m here I can drive you home.”

“You… sure it’s okay?” your voice betrays you a little. “I mean you must be tired…”

“I’m okay,” he assures, then nods at his car. “Come on. I insist.”

“Okay,” you hear yourself saying.

You’re mostly silent on the way. You feel a bit tense, but also kinda… weirdly excited to be in this car, next to him. Damn. Is Stella right, and you’re actually into him? Definitely so. But after all these years you almost completely forgot how it feels - to be into someone or how the relationships work. As if you’re a teenager again. Leo Barnes is the first man who actually made you think of something close to romantic longing since… That night.

“It’s here?” he asks as you reach your house. You nod, and he pulls over. You wait for him to say something, to tell you goodnight maybe, but he doesn’t. Without the sound of the car engine, the silence between you becomes even more awkward. You open your mouth to say goodbye to him, but instead different words suddenly come out.

“Leo, I…”

He looks at you intently. You stare down at your knees.

“Yeah?”

“I just… The fact that you worry about me - it’s very nice of you, really. And… I just wanted you to know that I worry about you too. I worry about you a lot actually…”

“Y/n…” his voice is quiet as he brings his hand to your face, gently urging you to look up at him. His eyes look darker than usual in the dim light of the street lamp nearby. You think if it’s possible to drown in someone’s eyes you’d already be gone.

“I’ll be fine, okay?” he says softly. “It’s gonna be a tough night for sure, but I’ll be fine, I have to be fine. You gotta trust me on this. You trust me?”

“Yes,” you barely whisper, unable to take your eyes from his, and when the tension becomes almost unbearable, his lips finally crush on yours.

You both expected and didn’t expect it, didn’t dare to admit even to yourself how much you really wanted it. Your breath hitches somewhere in your throat as you kiss him back eagerly, forgetting about everything and everyone for this moment that lasts so long and so painfully short at once. You’re both panting as your lips part, foreheads pressed together.

“I… I think I should go,” you mumble as a rush of panic suddenly overwhelms you.

“Yeah… Yeah…” he nods. “You should get some rest.”

“You too.”

You squeeze his hand for a second. Gosh, you didn’t even realize your hand was on his all this time.

“Good night,” you finally murmur, bracing yourself to get out of the car. You feel like something else needs to be said, but can’t really figure out what.

You enter the house and just lean against the door, heart hammering wildly inside your chest. You close your eyes and try to catch your breath. What the hell just happened? And why are you reacting like that? There’s nothing wrong about this kiss. You’re two single adults… Well, probably single. Leo doesn’t wear a ring, so… Damn it, you really got out of practice when it comes to relationships.

A knock on the door made your eyes snap open. As if in a daze, you slowly turn and reach the door handle, already knowing who you’re going to see.

Leo doesn’t say anything. And you can’t read the expression in his eyes, or you simply don’t have time for it, because the next moment he steps inside, his hands cup your cheeks and he kisses you with such longing and desperation it nearly kicks the breath out of your lungs. You don’t know what you’re doing any more, but your fingers are already in his dark hair, scratching the nape of his neck while his lips and tongue keep attacking your mouth. It feels like shockwaves running through your body, and for the first time in years you feel just so alive. All this time your feelings, passions and emotions were asleep, everything around you seemed pale and lifeless as if someone turned down the contrast, but something changed. Not right now, not in the snap of a finger, of course; it happened gradually. Something kept changing deep within you since the very first time your eyes met, and now - you’re finally ready to feel something. To let him in.

You don't think about it though. Or about anything else, to be honest. All you can focus on is what his lips are doing to you, how hot his breath is and how weirdly nice his stubble feels against your skin. Leo’s coat falls on the floor. His big hands seize your waist as he lifts you up, causing you to grip onto his broad shoulders. Pressing you against the nearest wall, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, the kisses are sloppy, open-mouthed, and you can't suppress a soft moan. He's big and strong, you feel small underneath him, but you like it.

You can’t even remember clearly how you finally reached the bedroom, frantically helping each other to get rid of the clothes. When you tumble down and he hovers over you, the skin to skin contact is overwhelming. He brushes your hair away from your flushed face, kisses you with sudden tenderness. The look in his hazel eyes is warm yet still full of passion as you cup his cheek and he presses his lips to your palm. An affectionate gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you both are too impatient to be soft right now. So he leans in, kissing you harder this time, grunting against your mouth when you pull him closer, craving as much of him as possible. You can feel him twitching against your lower belly as you wrap your legs around him, eager to get more pressure. He’s not even inside you yet, but it already feels so good you can’t help bucking your hips, earning a low groan from him at the friction. His lips trail along your jawline, down to the side of your neck, where he kisses and nibbles, and you just know there’s gonna be marks tomorrow, but damn, you can’t care less.

When he finally enters you and starts moving, you’re almost delirious. Clinging to him, you gasp and whisper his name into his skin, feel the muscles on his back tense as he thrusts deeper. The wave of bliss hits you so hard your vision turns blurry and for a few seconds it feels like you’re not there.

Reality comes back to you slowly, with all the dark and troubled thoughts you can’t escape. Leo is lying next to you with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, so you think he must be asleep. Good for him. Carefully, you slip out of the bed to get a glass of water. It doesn’t help you to get rid of the lump in your throat though. Back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed and let out a deep sigh, trying to fight back tears. Too many emotions for one night.

“Y/n.”

Leo’s voice doesn’t even seem sleepy. You can feel him shifting in bed to reach you, the warmth of his calloused hand stroking your back soothingly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, uh…” You shake your head, bringing your hand to rub your eyes. “I’m good. It’s just… It’s been a while since I… You know…”

“I know. It’s been a while for me as well.”

“I lost my boyfriend three years ago,” you blurt out, surprising yourself that you said it out loud. “During the Purge night. He um… He was a medical student. We lived in an apartment building and we heard someone crying for help. I wanted to stop him but he just couldn’t ignore someone who needed help, you know. He got shot accidentally, right into his head. There was no chance to save him.”

Leo’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder.

“Sorry, I… Don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’ve never talked about him since the funeral…”

“It’s okay,” he moves closer, pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“I was so angry at first, you know,” now that you start talking you seemingly cannot stop. “I wished I could find and kill them. But then I thought he wouldn’t want me to become a murderer...”

He presses his forehead against the back of your head for a moment. “I know how you feel, y/n.”

You finally turn to meet his gaze.

“I lost my son. I know what this anger feels like. Two years ago all I was thinking about on the Purge night was revenge. I was determined, almost obsessed.”

“Did… you do it?”

“No. I was close to it. Very close. But… One wise person made me realize that it wouldn’t help. Violence only brings more violence.”

“It has to be stopped,” you whisper.

“Yes,” he nods. “That’s why I left the police. Cops have to stay away from the Purge. I couldn’t any more. At least now I know I'm doing the right thing.”

“Right… Just… I’m just scared of losing you too,” you say very quietly, but he hears you anyway. His strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer, enclosing into his warmth. Making you feel safe.

“Hey, hey...” He whispers into your hair as he nuzzles into the top of your head. “It’s not gonna happen, you hear me? Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise.”

You have no doubt your colleagues noticed who drove you to work this morning. But today no one is in the mood for comments, not even Stella. Even though the work goes on as usual, there’s still this tension in the air before the Purge night.

Through the window you can see a bunch of guys gathered around the car with an open trunk full of baseball bats and other stuff you can’t discern. The owner proudly shows off his stuff, other guys laugh, they look pretty chill and relaxed, and your stomach nearly twists at the sight.

All night you could barely sleep a wink. A knock on the door drags you out of troubled slumber. At first you’re not even sure if you really heard it or it was in your dream. But the sounds repeat and you jump off the bed and without even caring to slip something over the huge t-shirt you sleep in. Barefoot, you rush to the door, open it with shaky hands.

He looks so exhausted it seems like he can barely stand. The collar of his shirt that used to be white is now stained with blood. And yet… He’s smiling.

“Leo!..” you gasp, stepping towards him and bringing your hand to his stubbly cheek. “Oh my god, are you… Everything okay?..”

“I’m great,” he breathes out huskily, and his smile slowly turns into a wide grin. “We did it, baby.”

You don’t even try to hold back tears as you fall into his arms, bury your face into his chest. He smells a bit like sweat and blood, but you absolutely don’t care. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you mumble into his ruined shirt. “I’m here,” he whispers back, stroking your hair. Then you realize the two of you are still standing at the porch.

“Alright,” you say, drawing back a little. “Let’s get you in, you need some rest… And you’re probably hungry too… And you definitely need a shower…”

“Wait, y/n. Let’s just… Stay here for a bit? I think we both need to catch a breath,” he chuckles crookedly, reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. You smile back.

“Okay.”

Sitting on the porch with your head on Leo’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your frame, you watch the sky becoming lighter and lighter as the dawn breaks. You can hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. The city’s slowly getting back to life, waking up after another nightmare.

You both know it’s not the end, the war isn’t won yet, but at least you won this very important battle. And for the first time in what seems like ages you have a good feeling about the future.

Thanks for reading!

Hugs, Lucy

#the purge #leo barnes x reader #frank grillo #fanfiction #the purge fanfiction #the purge anarchy #the purge election year #lucy tries to write

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master-sass-blast · 3 years

Text

Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter Two.

I had to input every single italic you see in this fic by hand because Tumblr doesn’t hold text format when I paste it innnnnn. *pained smile*

Please give this chapter some love, because that was fucking painful to do.

Summary: The aftermath of capturing Allison proves messy -both in dealing with the teen's evident trauma, and in all the skeletons in various closets that get unleashed soon after.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Frank Castle x Karen Page, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: M for gun violence, depictions of death and injuries, depictions of emotional trauma, and gratuitous use of the word “fuck.”

Word count: 8.9k.

Set after “Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter One.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

“What the hell were you thinking!”

“Ooh, careful there, Doohan,” Wade snarks, head rolling to indicate he’s rolling his eyes. “Get any more agitated and you’ll be saying all the no-no words.”

Scott scowls at Wade. “Stuff it, Wilson.”

“Every damn night, laser pointer.”

A mixture of grimaces, sighs, and groans go up through the crowd.

You’re all gathered in the medical wing of Xavier’s –the X-Force and nearly all of the X-Men. Allison’s off being examined by Dr. McCoy and Alyssa –to make sure she’s stable enough to be taken out of the handcuffs and the suppression band—and Frank and Karen are sequestered in a separate room until it's clear how everything's going to shake out.

Because, naturally, there’s been a wrench thrown in the situation.

Or maybe the whole damn toolbox, you mentally amend as Wade and Scott resume arguing.

“We cannot harbor a mob criminal here—”

“She’s thirteen, Summers!” Wade snaps. The eyes on his mask narrow into slits. “She’s not a criminal –and her parents’ choice don’t automatically make her guilty!”

“Murder, illegal theft and possession of firearms, assault, stalking, kidnapping,” Scott starts listing, ticking off each of Allison’s misdeeds on his fingers.

“She lost her family,” Nathan interjects, voice going to gravel. “Where the fuck were all of you when she needed support? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

The room goes silent. Many of the X-Men members look away or hang their heads slightly.

“We had no way of knowing that Allison was a mutant,” Ororo speaks up. “Without the proper information, we can’t help. It’s unfortunate, yes, but out of our control all the same.”

“But you know now,” Wade argues. “You knew with Russell. You knew with all the kids at Essex house. You turned your back on him and those kids, just like you’re turning your back on Allison now.” He scoffs, disgusted. “Same shit, different day. You’re all a bunch of cowardly cocksuckers.”

“We do have limits,” Professor Xavier speaks up from his chair. “Russell and the other members of Essex house were considered wards of the state. Legally, that meant Essex house had custody of them until they turned eighteen. We wrote petitions. We did as much as we could to bring attention to the issue. Unfortunately, it got swept under the rug or stonewalled by anti-mutant members of the legal system. As for Allison…” He sighs. “Taking in wards with criminal connections put the school at risk. Not just for fear of retaliation –as would certainly be a risk with Miss Ricci’s connections to the mafia—but also our funding and licensing. As an orphaned mutant, she is certainly deserving of our help—” he pauses to glare sternly at Scott and a few of the more stubborn, self-righteous members present “—but we have to consider the needs of our other residents and students, too.”

“I think we’re overlooking that Allison is here right now,” Jean pipes up. “Whether or not she stays with us is one thing, but we need to decide what to do for at least the next forty-eight hours.”

“She stays here,” you say automatically. “As far as we know, she has no other guardians, potentially even nowhere to go. I don’t think it’s gonna kill us to give her a bed and some food to eat.”

“Absolutely not,” Scott fires back –and, behind him, Angel and Iceman nod. “She’s far too aggressive to possibly put the students at risk.”

“She’s agitated and traumatized,” you reason, “but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lash out at people left and right.”

“Doesn’t she have a guardian of sorts?” Neena pipes up. “Artemis? Has anyone gotten ahold of them?”

“We reached out with the number Miss Ricci gave us,” Xavier explains. “The call picked up, but there wasn’t any verbal response for the duration of the call.”

Well, that bodes well. “What about her attorney?” you ask. “If we can’t keep her here, wouldn’t her attorney be able to arrange some sort of safe place for her to stay.”

“Thus far, we haven’t been able to reach her attorney.”

And that bodes even worse. You fight the urge to sigh or roll your eyes, and instead mentally curse monkey wrenches and whoever thought to invent the damn things.

“For the time being, I’ve contacted some of our external resources” –the glance Xavier shoots at both you and Piotr tells you that it’s your uncle and Alexandra—“to help with matters until the dust settles. They should be arriving soon, so—”

There’s a loud crash from down the hall, the sound of glass shattering, and an angry screech that sounds suspiciously like, “Fuck you, Castle!”

You give into the urge to sigh before booking it towards the sound of chaos and rage. Great. Now it’s an entire toolshed.

***

Subduing Allison this time, at least, is easier for several reasons.

First, she’s still wearing the repression cuff on her wrist. Without her powers –without a way to pop in and out of this existence, specifically—she’s much easier to catch.

Second, she’s tired. It’s not just the bags under her eyes or the sweat glistening at her furrowed brow. She’s stumbling unevenly, panting as she tries to exact her revenge.

Third, Illyana happens to show up at the exact same time with your uncle and Alexandra (and Nikolai as well, though he has less involvement in the “subduing process”).

Alex reacts fastest. She hooks one strong arm around Allison’s waist, then scoops her away from Karen and a hangdog-looking Frank. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Allison, however, doesn’t seem to agree. (Though whether it’s due to general teenage contrariness or trauma-induced rage, the jury’s still out.

…Actually, it’s probably both.)

“You don’t even get it, Castle!” Allison snaps with a manic grin, eyes wide and haunted. “You killed a good man. My dad was getting out! He was going to testify against them—”

Alex clamps a hand over the teen’s mouth, making her cut herself off with a garbled grunt. “I said enough.”

Allison thrashes in the older woman’s iron-clad grasp –to no avail, unsurprisingly. Her face scrunches up, then her jaw starts flexing. There’s a moment where her expression goes slack when Alex doesn’t react, then her nose scrunches up again and her jaw starts working harder.

Alex sighs, then starts carrying Allison back down the hall (she’s astonishingly unfazed by been chomped down on). “Come on. Let’s get you calmed down, malen’kiy.”

At the other end of the hall, Neena pokes her head into the fray. “Someone who calls herself Artemis is at the front door.”

Professor Xavier nods, then says, “Please escort her back to Miss Ricci’s room,” before wheeling after Alex and Artemis.

You look between Neena and the Professor –then, in the interest of going where you’re actually allowed to be (and not being bored out of your mind because you’ll be literally shut out of the room), you head towards the foyer.

…

“Do you think Frank was set up to stop the trial?”

Your uncle shrugs; the two of you have taken up a spot at the back of the room, where you can watch things unfold and gossip like the two old ladies you are in spirit. “It’s possible. It’s also possible that it was retribution for Allison being a mutant. The Ricci syndicate is notoriously… intolerant.”

You grimace. You certainly understand just how far people will go against their own flesh and blood for intolerance’s sake. “Blood and water.”

Your uncle nods, expression equally sour. “You fucking said it, punk.”

There’s not much point in hashing it out any further –both from the standpoint of “forbidden knowledge” and digging up old trauma—so you settle back into watching Artemis go through the mandatory security check.

She’s tall, with broad shoulders. Her hair’s dark, just starting to streak with silver at the temples, and her eyes are deep, intense, borderline black color. Her nose is slightly crooked –comes with the territory in this walk of life—and she’s dressed in black motorcycle wear and combat boots.

She honestly looks so fucking familiar.

You frown, brows pinching together as you try and place her face in your memory. Failing your own abilities at recollection, you lean over and whisper, “Is she one of your team members? I swear I’ve seen her before.”

“Uh –no,” your uncle replies (and it’s too fast and shaky, but you’re too caught up in figuring out whom the fuck you’re looking at to notice). “I mean –everyone has a doppelganger, right?”

“I guess.” You squint at Artemis, as though physically narrowing your eyes will help your brain puzzle things out—

And then Alex strides into the foyer –wiping the hand that Allison bit, and if you look close enough you’re pretty sure you can still see a few bloody teeth marks—and the cloud of confusion lifts from your mind.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly. “That’s why she looks familiar! She looks like Alex.” You look from the Rasputin matriarch, to the other black-leather clad woman, then back again. “She looks… a lot like Alex, actually.” You laugh softly –coincidence is a hell of a thing—then keep rambling when your uncle doesn’t say anything. “Two women who love the color black and carry enough weapons on their person to stock an army. You’d think the universe broke the mold with Alex, huh?”

Your uncle shifts from foot to foot next to you, but says nothing.

“You really weren’t kidding about the whole ‘doppelganger’ thing, huh.” You cock your head to one side, then frown as another epiphany starts growing in your mind. “Actually… she kind of looks like you, too.”

Your uncle makes a quiet, pained choking noise. “Punk—”

“Yeah, she’s got more of your build…”

“Punk.”

“And her lower lip has that weird lopsided curve like yours—”

“Punk—”

You peer closer at Artemis’s face. “Actually, her nose looks like you took yours and Alex’s and mashed them together—”

“Punk.”

You finally look up at him and take in the pale, wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression on his face. “What?” When he doesn’t say anything, you look at Artemis, then Alex, and then back at him—

Oh God.

Holy fucking shit.

You stare up at your uncle, agape. “Wait a second –you and—”

“Okay, shut the fuck up!” he hisses, panicked, before dragging you out of the foyer and into the nearest hallway.

“You and Alex had a baby,” you blurt –albeit in a voice no louder than a harsh whisper. “Artemis is your and her lovechild!”

He winces, then holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“I don’t think you can!” you hiss. “Why didn’t you tell me that I have a cousin who happens to be my husband’s half fucking sister! Oh God, does Piotr know? Do any of the Rasputins know?”

“I…” He trails off, then cringes. He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, actually.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. “You’re not sure. How are you not sure? Nick knows who you are –what, you think Alex just kept a whole child from his knowledge—”

“I mean, he probably knows that there was a baby at one point—”

“The baby is in this fucking house!” you snap in a quiet growl, arms flailing wildly. “She’s a full grown adult who probably pays taxes and has a 401k going! Why wouldn’t Alex tell her husband—”

“Look,” your uncle interjects, cutting you off. “As far as Alex knows… she thinks she’s… dead?”

You gape. Then, as quietly as you can manage (given the circumstances), you exclaim, “What the fuck!”

“Keep your voice down!” your uncle hisses, gesturing wildly in panic. He looks over his shoulder, then when he’s certain no one overheard you, he sighs and looks back to you. “Look, it’s a long story—”

“I’m sure it fucking is!” You cross your arms over your chest when he winces. “How is it that you know your secret lovechild is alive, but Alex doesn’t? What, did she just abandon her?”

“No, no—”

“Didn’t think so. So what the fuck happened?”

He sighs, shoulder slumping, and runs one hand through his already disheveled hair. “Look –long story short, the people who ‘made’ Alex took the baby—”

“Artemis. Her daughter. Your daughter.”

He purses his lips, but concedes with a nod. “They took her away after she was born and told Alex she was dead –and that’s actually what prompted her to get out, but that’s another story for another day—”

“Okay, hang on a second.” You squeeze your eyes shut and hold up one hand. “Alex thinks her baby is dead –probably one of the most traumatic things in her whole life. You’ve known that she’s alive…” You open your eyes again and fix your uncle with a stern stare. “Okay, how long have you known for?”

He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably. “…well, the US took her, but she didn’t present early, so they turned her loose into the foster system because she didn’t have potential as an ‘asset’—”

“How fucking long?”

He ducks his head, carefully avoiding your gaze. “…tracked her down when she was ten.”

Your eyes widen –and then you slug him in the shoulder. “You fucking colossal asshole!”

He panics again, motioning for you to keep it down while checking over his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up!”

“No! Not only have you lied to Alex for decades—”

“She never asked—”

“A lie by omission is still a fucking lie!” you snap in a gravelly whisper. “So, not only did you lie to her, but you also abandoned your daughter to the mercies of the US foster care system!”

“My life wasn’t safe to keep a kid around!” he hisses back at you. “I couldn’t take care of you, and I couldn’t take care of her! If anything, it was safer for her if the government thought I didn’t know she was alive!”

You sigh, pinch the bridge of your nose, and wave dismissively with your other hand. “Okay –fine. That still doesn’t justify the whole lying thing, but whatever. Does Artemis know that you and Alex are her parents?”

“…Yes. She tracked me down when she was in her twenties and I told her the truth.”

“Well, it sounds like determination runs in the family,” you mutter. “But at least you two have kept in touch…” You look up, see your uncle’s grimace, and sigh. “You didn’t keep in touch with her.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Pretty sure ‘not like that’ is a good answer.” You sigh again, then shrug and put your hands on your hips. “Well, you’ve probably solved your own problem. She’ll probably just tell Alex who she is just to spite you, assuming she got the ‘petty vengeance’ gene too.”

Your uncle’s eyebrows spike to his hairline, and his expression goes through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. “She –she can’t—”

“She can and she probably will.”

He hunches over, crouching, and grips the back of his head. “Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck—”

“Myshka?”

You and your uncle both jump, then whirl in unison and give your husband your best convincing, “we’re totally not talking about long lost, hidden family members and other poor life choices” smiles that you can each manage.

(Consider that you don’t look like you just shit your pants, you win.)

Piotr’s forehead wrinkles with concern. “What… is everything alright?”

“Just fine, baby,” you assure him, subtly kicking your uncle so he relaxes. “Just talking about what happens next.”

Piotr nods after a moment, likely picking up on that whatever’s going on right now isn’t life or death and that you’ll fill him in later. “I actually came to find you,” he says, gesturing to your uncle. “Professor Xavier still cannot reach Allison’s lawyer. He has asked for your assistance.”

“Right. Absolutely. On it,” your uncle says with a none-too-convincing smile. He shoots your husband a pair of finger guns, then books it out of the hall and towards the medical wing of the mansion.

Piotr stares after him, then shoots you a confused frown. “Is he okay?”

You shrug. “He’s doing about his usual.” You decide to further sidestep the issue by ambling over to him and giving him a gentle hug. “How are you?” Are doing okay?”

Piotr wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I am fine now. Just a little sore.”

“Me too.” You nuzzle your cheek against his burly chest. “We really should invest in that hot tub we keep talking about getting. It’d be great for post-mission recovery.”

“Hot tubs are expensive, myshka,” he chuckles.

“Yes, but we’re not getting any younger. It’d be a good investment in taking care of our bodies.” You tilt your head back and grin up at him. “I thought you were all about that life.”

He sighs and shakes his head, feigning exasperation, but his amused smile is a dead giveaway. “Whatever shall I do with you, myshka?”

You grin wider. “You could kiss me.”

Piotr grins back, then dips his head and presses his lips against yours—

Mikhail appears next to you out of thin air. “Ah. Gross. Big meeting is happening. All hands on deck.”

Piotr rolls his eyes when his elder brother teleports away once more, then looks back down at you and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, baby.” You unwind your arms from his massive trunk of a torso, then slide your fingers between his as the two of you walk towards the medical wing.

…

“—I am telling you, Charles, not being able to reach this kid’s lawyer is a bad fucking sign.”

You and Piotr walk into a conference room to find your uncle and Professor Xavier locked in a heated argument.

Wade, Nate, and Neena are leaning against the table to watch, occasionally leaning over to whisper bits of commentary to each other (or, in Wade’s case, speak at normal volume).

In the corner of the room, where a couple of armchairs are positioned, Nikolai sits with his two other children; they’re speaking in hushed Russian, but none of them seem too concerned about everything else going on.

“As I previously stated,” Xavier says, words clipped, “we cannot release Miss Ricci without speaking first to her attorney. The X-Men operate as a special law enforcement service, and failure to comply with criminal and civil statutes will have enormous consequences for the Institute—”

“There’s going to be a bunch of fucking ‘enormous consequences’ for the Institute,” your uncle interrupts, growling through clenched teeth, “if you don’t evacuate this building right fucking now! Fuck’s sake, Charles –you hired me as a security advisor; just listen to me.”

Piotr frowns and curls one hand over your shoulder. “What is happening?”

“What’s happening,” a new, strong, feminine voice interjects from the hall, “is that we’re leaving.” Artemis shoulders past your husband –a feat not easily achieved by many—with Allison in tow, then holds up the teen’s arm that has the repression cuff still attached. She glares at Xavier (and God, she really looks like Alex when she does that), then spits out through gritted, bared teeth, “Get this fucking thing off my kid.”

There’s a longsuffering sigh in the hall, and then Alex steps into the doorway. “She has that cuff on for her own safety –as I already told you—”

Artemis whirls, face contorted by a vicious scowl, and snaps, “I didn’t fucking ask for you input!”

(Boy, if that doesn’t just scream ‘repressed trauma and mommy issues.’)

Your uncle looks like he’s about to pass out again, but Alex seems remarkably nonplussed. She merely raises one eyebrow at Artemis, as if to say ‘that’s all you got?’

There’s no way she knows, you think as you watch the two stare each other down. Not with how much she cares about her kids. There’s no fucking way—

“Actually, we’ve got bigger problems,” your uncle pipes up, voice quavering slightly before he clears his throat. “We can’t reach your kid’s shark.”

“They have other clients,” Artemis retorts, upper lip curling in a derisive sneer. Her dark eyes smolder with barely constrained hatred as she tosses a withering glance in his direction (daddy issues, too, this chick won the whole lottery). “Or maybe they got stuck in traffic.”

Your uncle narrows his eyes at that (and now the two of them look so much alike, overcome by ire as they are). “You cannot possibly be that fucking stupid.”

Artemis sucks a breath through her teeth, eyes widening with rage and hurt. “You fucking dick—”

In the corner of the room, Illyana bolts upright before going stock still. Then, she gasps and reaches out towards her mother. “Mama!”

(The way Artemis’s face mars with a pained grimace makes your heart ache.)

Alex tenses, eyes glowing gold as she starts scanning the horizon (presumably checking for heat signatures). “Gde?”

The room goes quiet –and then you hear it.

The sound of engines rumbling –multiple engines—and car wheels crunching against gravel. Doors thumping open and shut, followed by footsteps. Hushed voices.

You scamper over to the nearest window and float up, just enough to see several men clad in black and Kevlar and carrying rifles stalking towards the front door and around the sides of the house in groups. “Guys with guns. Lots of them.”

“Then get down!” Nate hisses before yanking you back from the window.

“Lights out,” Alex orders before hitting the switch herself. “Get everyone to a reinforced room.”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Xavier says before wheeling himself towards the door.

Allison clings to Artemis’s sleeve, much like a baby koala. “What’s going on? What’s going to happen?”

“Go with the Professor,” Artemis says. She quickly –but gently—frees her arm, then clasps the teen’s face with both hands. “Look at me. Listen to the Professor, and stay put until I come get you. Okay?”

Allison’s forehead puckers, and her lower lip starts trembling. “But—”

“Is alright,” Nikolai interjects with a kind, reassuring smile. He gently ushers Allison towards the door, then down the hall before she can protest further.

A few doors down, Karen pokes her head out of the room where she and Frank have holed up. She frowns as she takes in the chaos. “What’s going on?”

“Mafia men with guns!” Wade chirps as he half-skips, half-jogs towards the mansion’s entryway. “Tell your boy to suit up!”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Neena adds as she runs after Wade.

Frank squeezes around Karen and kisses her temple before falling in line behind the two assassins.

You step to the side so Karen can run past you, then turn and press a hasty kiss against Piotr’s cheek. “Love you.”

He kisses your cheek in return, equally as brief. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”

And then the two of you run towards the danger bearing down on your home.

***

In all the firefights you’ve been in, there’s always this moment of silence. A calm before the storm. A moment where everything goes still, while both sides wait for the other to make a move.

You duck behind a wall as the mafia gunmen continue hammering away at the front door, tucking yourself in a shadow. Your stomach tenses, breathing going quick and hard as your mind starts putting a plan together. Don’t want to risk collapsing part of the house by doing a pressure vacuum. Best option is to probably knock them to the ground so the others can jump them.

The door rattles. The wooden portal splits on one side, sending jagged splinters poking out into the air.

You slow your breathing, forcing yourself into a calm, focused state. Wait for them to get past the entryway so you can hit as many of them as possible.

In the back of the house, near the kitchen, you hear glass shatter.

They’re in. You clench your fists at your sides, watching as the front door slowly gives way. Three… two… one…

The door breaks open, swinging inwards as the first gunmen step into the foyer—

And then the door snaps off its hinges and slams into the men, taking them out like bowling pins.

Strike, a small, inane part of your brain giggles.

Shouts go up through the house. You can hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, shattering glass, and what sounds like people being bodyslammed through tables (and, given the type of people fighting for your side, it just might be that). Gunfire pierces the air –and is accompanied by the telltale, metallic plinks of the bullets ricocheting off your husband’s armor.

Angry screams emanate from the front step. Men barge in, firing down the hall, towards some unseen target (likely Alex or Nate, given the door trick).

You wait until as many men are piled into the foyer as possible, then send down a downdraft that blows out the windows on either side of the door.

The gunmen tumble to the floor, swearing in a mixture of English and Italian.

Nate, Wade, and Neena swoop in. They descend upon the mafia men like a pack of wolves, breaking bones, dislocating joints, and cracking skulls as they disarm –and, in some cases “un-alive”—the gunmen.

“It’s raining men!” Wade sings as he runs one of his katanas through the gut of one assailant. “Hallelujah! It’s raining men!” He ramps off a nearby wall, then t-bags another man before stabbing him through the temple. “Amen!”

You crouch, tracking the movement of the scuffle. You tense when you see a couple of the men jump Nathan, then charge towards the railing and dive over when a few more try to break past to run down the hallway. You flip in the air, land in the hallway ahead of them, and unleash a blast of wind right in their faces.

The mafia men fly out through the front door. They sail over half the front drive, then bounce off the gravel surface and roll several times before coming to a stop.

You let out a harsh breath, then dart down the hall towards the kitchen when you hear glass shattering and the sound of Frank bellowing angrily.

The kitchen and rec room are a mess. Glass shards from shattered windows coat the floor, glittering before being crushed underfoot. Doors are cracked from having people slammed into them. The rec room couch is overturned –and is sagging suspiciously on one side, hinting at a cracked frame. The entertainment system is shattered, with smoking bullet holes littering the TV, speakers, and media systems.

Frank has one of the guys pinned down over the sink. He’s snarling as he uses the lip of the sink to choke the guy out. There’s blood smeared his lips and chins, trailing back up to his chin.

Another gunman stalks in through the dining room, gun trained on Frank’s head.

You whip a blast of air at the second man, sending him sailing into the wall so hard the drywall cracks.

He drops to the ground, unconscious.

There’s some terrified shrieking –and then a gunman is punted up and out of the basement stairwell. He sails through the kitchen window headfirst, crumpling in a heap in the hedges outside.

Your husband storms up the staircase, teeth bared in an angry snarl. The waning daylight glints off his metal exterior, almost making him look like some sort of avenging angel. He stops short when he sees you, though; his irate expression vanishes, replaced by concern. “Ty v poryadke?”

You manage a smile and flash him a thumbs up—

And then a truck with a Gatling gun strapped to the roof rolls up to the back door.

“Get down!” Frank hollers before tackling you to the ground behind the kitchen island.

The room explodes into chaos. Bullets plow into the walls, sending up spurts of drywall dust in their wake. Wooden doorframes and floorboards crack, unleashing cascades of splinters in every direction. Glass shatters, raining down upon everything in its reach.

Frank positions himself over you, shielding you as fragmented bullets rain down upon your both. He cups your head with his hands, doing his best to protect you from the hellfire.

Over the din, you can just make out a loud, angry bellow –and then the sound of bullets hitting metal. Heavy, deliberate stomps make the floor shake.

The gunfire cuts off. A shriek pierces the air just before you hear what sounds like a car being tossed into a tree.

(As you’ll discover later, that’s precisely what you heard.)

Frank lifts his head, then carefully rolls off you. He crouches next to you and holds out a hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got glass shards and splinters in your hair, but you’ve been worse. You take his hand, flinching when you hear the sound of more gunfire outside.

Frank peers over the lip of the island. “Reinforcements. At least five more cars headed our way.”

You suck in a breath. “Piotr—”

“Is holding his own for now,” Frank says.

“I’m gonna help him,” you rasp out. “Make sure everyone in the house that’s not on our side… stays down. And that we’ve still got all our people.”

Frank nods, then runs off towards the foyer.

You catch your breath, then creep towards the back door (better safe than sorry). You flatten yourself against the wall next to the doorway, then peer around the broken frame.

Piotr’s facing off against the new influx of cars. He’s got one hand on the hood of one Range Rover, arm extended out like he’s fending off a five-year-old. With his other hand, he flips another SUV over, causing the thing to land on its roof and putting the vehicle squarely out of commission.

Your stomach sinks when five more Range Rovers tear across the lawn, leaving deep, muddy tracks in their wake –and are followed by three more trucks with Gatling guns attached to the roofs. You sprint out the door, take a flying leap over Piotr, then send out a shockwave of air when you land on the ground.

A few of the cars fly backwards, rolling across the lawn like tumbleweeds. A majority of them, however, manage to stay upright or bump into each other and recover.

Your eyes widen when one of the Gatling gun operators aims directly at you. Shit.

Piotr leaps in front of you, whirling so his back is to the gun. He curls his body over yours, shielding you as gunfire rains down on you both.

You grit your teeth, grunting. You can feel the impact of the gunfire resonating through your husband’s metal body. Worry clutches at your heart when Piotr lets out sharp, ragged groans; he’s largely invulnerable in his armor, not to mention his sense of touch is severely dulled, but you know that with shit like this he’s still feeling some sort of pain –and there’s nothing you can do. You’re both pinned down, and as powerful as your shockwaves are, they’re not enough to stop or even skew the trajectory of a bullet—

Blue light washes over both of you. The sound of the gunfire wanes, replaced by warbling, pinging noises instead.

You peer around Piotr’s side to see Illyana standing between the two of you and the oncoming cars. She has her arms outstretched, palms facing the onslaught of adversaries. A shimmering, sky blue shield with various magical incantations floating through it surrounds all of you, stretching into the sky for at least forty feet.

Illyana grunts. She’s being shoved backwards from the force of impact from the bullets. Her feet are digging into the ground, leaving ruts as she tries to hold her stance. “We need new plan!”

“How about ‘stay alive?’” Piotr shouts back as he digs shrapnel out of the grooves on his arms.

Wade, Neena, Nate, and Frank come barreling out the back door, faces streaked with soot and blood. They dive for the ground, covering the backs of their heads and necks with their hands—

An explosion goes off inside the mansion. The shockwave shatters windows on both the first and second floor, blowing out window frames and trim.

Piotr covers your body with his once more. He cups your head with his hand, shielding you from the falling debris and the worst of the shockwave.

You cough and hack as smoke billows out the broken windows and doors. You do your best to make a vortex to suck the smoke away and send it up into the air. Your lungs burn, and your ears are ringing like a bell from all the gunfire and the explosion—

Four more gunmen emerge from the smoke pouring out the back door.

You snarl, then whip blasts of air at them, slamming them into the exterior walls of the house.

One of them goes down, while the other three are merely stunned.

Mikhail comes barreling out next. He lets out a guttural battle cry, then sucker punches one of the men in the back of the head before aiming a blast of rust colored energy at another’s gut.

The man screams as he sails into the air, arcing over the tree line and disappearing somewhere in the canopies.

The third man aims his gun at Mikhail –then staggers and drops to the ground when a beam of golden energy sears through his chest.

Alex storms out of the smoke with Artemis and your uncle trailing close behind her. She glares down the remaining gunmen and cars, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Blood is flecked across her face and spattered over her leather jacket. “House is clear!”

“Yeah, except now we’re about to be cleared out!” Wade hollers back. “As in, ‘all sales final, no returns, no exchanges!’”

“If we could make plan,” Illyana screams, voice strained with the effort of holding the shield, “would be very great!”

You look over to Alex –and see her eyes widen. You whirl towards the gunmen just in time to see one of them aim a rocket launcher at all of you. “Oh, for the love of—”

The first hit is technically deflected by Illyana’s shield, insomuch that the projectile and the shield both shatter the moment they meet. The force of the magic breaking sends out a shockwave of blue energy that flies backwards into all of you, knocking those who managed to get up back off their feet and stunning the rest of you.

You groan, head reeling. Your vision clears slowly, casting double images when you move too quickly. Shit.

You can make out Piotr, just next to you. He’s lying face down on the lawn, grunting and moving in slow, clumsy movements. He turns his head, brow furrowing when he sees you, and reaches out towards you.

You extend your hand to grab his –but he’s just out of your reach, no matter how far you strain. Your body feels heavy with fatigue and pain; everything inside you is screaming to get up, to fight, to keep moving because death is knocking right on your door, and you’ll be damned if this is how you go out—

Alex recovers first –no surprise there. She shoves herself to her feet, seething and growling like a feral beast. She hurls a blast of energy at one of the cars –and, from the sounds of the carnage, makes a direct hit. She storms towards the sea of mafia men like an avenging angel, hell bound on vengeance and blood.

Audible gasps go up from the amassed assassins.

You lift your head to see several of the gunmen backing away from the mansion and crossing themselves with shaking hands. You chalk it up to Alex being Alex, and make to drop your head back against the ground once more—

And then you see Allison standing in the ruined doorway.

She’s glaring down the gunmen with a viciousness that doesn’t suit the youthful roundness of her face. Her brows are knit together, and her mouth is twisted into an ugly scowl. Her eyes are glowing a brilliant shade of blue and give off little wisps of azure colored smoke. Her skin and hair are smoking as well, creating an aura around her body. Blood drips down from her nose and onto her shirt –which is stained with ash and soot. There are burn marks and indents on her wrists from where the repression cuff and the handcuffs used to be, respectively, but the restraints themselves are gone.

The ground begins to shake. Two patches of cerulean light appear underneath the grass, growing larger until they form swirling vortexes of magical energy. The ground begins to crumble at the edges of the portals, eroding away and growing wider until they make gaping tunnels that channel so deeply into the earth there’s no telling how far they truly go.

You recoil when the smell of sulfur and smoke blenches forth from the tunnels. Shit, did she hit a gas line? Fucking dammit, like this day can get any worse—

Echoing, blood-chilling howls emanate from the tunnels.

Your eyes widen –and then your heart starts working overtime when you see two, then four massive hellhounds (like the ones Allison summoned at the mall) crawl out of the tunnels.

Shrieks of terror sound from the gunmen. Several take off running, while others try to shoot the beasts.

The hounds snap and snarl at the gunmen, then charge at the group. Two of them go off after the runners, while the other two start lunging after the assassins like they’re rabbits.

You stare at the chaos in disbelief –and then a set of strong hands grab you underneath the arms.

“Get up.” You uncle tugs you to your feet, keeping you steady when you stumble. “You can’t be in the flow of traffic for this.”

Behind you, Allison is panting like she’s run a marathon. The aura of blue smoke is growing around her, trailing into the air and floating over the ground. Veins of light spread across her face and arms, glowing the same shade of vibrant blue as her eyes. Her breathing grows louder and more ragged, until she’s growling and shaking with each exhale— and then she screams.

Much like the first confrontation in the cemetery, all those months ago, the scream unleashes a shockwave of blue energy. This time, though, the shockwave is far from a decoy for escape. It washes over you, the X-Force, your uncle, the other Rasputins, Frank, and Artemis harmlessly enough –then slams into the mafia forces and vehicles like the wall of a hurricane.

Alex charges after the shockwave, carefully trailing behind it. She waits until it clears the first line of gunmen, then slams her fist into the face of the man closest to her. She blocks his attempt to strike her, then twists his arm –dislocating the shoulder, which makes him shriek in pain. Then, she wrenches his rifle away from him. She shoots him once in the center of his forehead, then turns the firearm on his fellow men and keeps firing.

Mikhail and Artemis go after the one surviving Gatling gun. Mikhail teleports onto the truck bed; he sweeps the back of one man’s jacket over his head, effectively blinding him, then kicks the other man present in the balls before shoving him over the side of the truck.

Artemis, on the other hand, stops a few feet away from the truck. She uses her telekinesis to rip the Gatling gun off its mount, then yanks the driver out through the windscreen –headfirst, no less—and dumps him on the lawn.

He doesn’t get back up.

“Come on,” your uncle says, pointing towards the further reaches of the property, where some of the gunmen are still trying to outrun the hellhounds. “Let’s give the dogs a helping hand.”

The two of you reach out, creating a wind current that slices through the air and slams into the stragglers.

The men careen into nearby hedges –and the hellhounds have it from there.

The familiar sonic blast of Nathan’s gun rips through the air. The shot slams into the last remaining SUV, rendering the vehicle to little more than glass shards and mangled metal.

The back lawn and gardens fall silent, save for the sounds of groans of pain and the hellhounds chewing on various gunmen.

Mikhail takes a fall off the back of the truck bed. He flops onto the ruined grass below, limbs splaying like a rag doll’s. “Alright. Is time for nap. Wake me… never.”

Illyana scoffs from where she’s sat next to a smoldering bush. She picks up a nearby stone, then chucks it at her eldest brother’s head (and hits her target, no less). “There is still clean up. Bezdel'nik.”

Mikhail flips her off, then groans as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“She’s right,” Alex lectures her eldest as she picks her way through the carnage. She nudges one body with the toe of her combat boot, then shoots him through the temple when he groans.

“Mama!” Piotr gapes at her, expression scandalized. He sputters, looking between her and the body at her feet.

“Chto? Vy khotite yego zhivym? Chtoby on mog dolozhit' svoim khozyayevam? Chtoby on mog obrushit' adskiy ogon' na etu shkolu i vsekh, kogo vy lyubite? No –no.” She holds up her index finger and stares sternly at Piotr when he tries to argue. “You do not leave enemies on your six o’clock, medvezhonok. First rule of survival.”

Piotr swallows hard, then says softly, “X-Men do not kill.”

Alex shrugs. “And I am not an X-Man.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nathan says. He holds his hand out for Alex’s rifle, nodding when she hands it to him after a moment’s hesitation.

(Wade and Frank are already working their way through the sea of dead and wounded. Frank’s traversing the chaos methodically, sticking to minimal shots to kill the survivors, while Wade’s alternating between singing “Dancing Queen” and getting post-mortem revenge.

“You shot my dick off inside!” Wade gasps as he peers down at a –slightly chewed on—corpse. “Extra bullets for you!” He then shoots the dead body several times before resuming his pitchy serenade.)

“What now?” Allison asks, staring out at the carnage with a slightly shocked expression.

“‘What now?’” Artemis repeats, laughing incredulously. She stomps towards Allison, pulling a pack of tissues out of her inner jacket pocket. “What the hell are you even doing out here? You were supposed to stay in the safe room—”

“They had cameras in there,” Allison says with a roll of her eyes, as if that justifies her decision to join the fracas. “You guys were getting your asses kicked.”

“We would’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, except you weren’t,” Allison fires back. She scrunches up her face when Artemis starts wiping the blood off her face, but otherwise takes the mothering without any complaint.

“It’s not your responsibility to deal with this shit,” Artemis says, voice and expression softening for a moment. She cleans up Allison’s face –then scowls. “And where the fuck are your cuffs? How did you even get out of them?”

Allison shrugs. “I used my powers to short the repression cuff out and ash it off.”

Illyana’s, Alex’s, and your uncle’s heads all snap around to stare at Allison.

“Are you kidding me?” Artemis hisses through clenched teeth. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself!”

“Or caused magical paradox that ripped hole in space-time continuum,” Illyana snaps.

“Ruptured blood vessels in your brain and caused an aneurysm, made the cuff deliver a lethal electrical shock, turned your magic against your own body and rendered yourself to ash,” your uncle continues, ticking off items on his fingers.

“Well, I didn’t do any of that!” Allison snarls, glaring at the others while Artemis keeps cleaning up her face. “And I made sure you losers won the fight –so fuck off!”

“Get her something to eat and drink,” Alex says. “Her blood sugar is bound to be low after pulling a stunt like that.”

Artemis glares at Alex and opens her mouth to respond—

Across the yard, Wade lets out a pained shriek. “My balls are not fetch toys! Bad Fido! Bad!”

Your eyes widen as you watch one of the hellhounds swing Wade around by his legs. You bite down on your lip, holding in a shock-induced laugh.

“Where’s this mutt’s off-switch –hey, hey! No!” Wade wriggles in the hellhound’s mouth, panicking as another beast bounds towards him. “My spine is not a tug toy! Can someone get rid of Fido and Rufus before they rip me in half!”

Allison snorts –then, before anyone can stop her, holds out her hand and flicks her wrist.

All four hellhounds melt back into the ground, disappearing to the depths of hell from whence they came.

Artemis swears under her breath, then catches the teen when she stumbles. She moves frantically, grabbing more tissues as blood starts pouring out of Allison’s nose once more. “You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you do that? When are you going to fucking learn that you’re not invincible—”

Allison lets out a sharp, hoarse laugh –then passes out.

…

The wreckage inside the mansion is heartbreaking.

You stare at the ruined furniture, the scorched walls, the splintered doors, the ruined rec room and kitchen, and you have to wonder what was the fucking point?

Part of you understands that the mafia came prepared for war; they were going up against powerful mutants, so –naturally—they would want to be prepared. Having the strongest, most powerful weapons available increased their chances of success. Logically –from a strictly tactical standpoint—it makes sense.

Glass crunches under your shoes. You stare down at a litany of fallen picture frames, heart wrenching as you stare at the ruined pictures of graduates, students, and workers inside. We’re just a school. We work with kids. What was the point of trying to wipe us out?

Piotr ambles up behind you. He puts his arms around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Cleaners and repairmen will be here in less than one hour.”

You feel numb. You place your hand on his arm. “That’s good.”

“We have back ups of pictures,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek. “Insurance to cover replacing damaged items. We will be fine.”

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back against your husband’s chest. “We’re just a school. What… what was the point? Why try to wipe us out?”

“I do not know.” Piotr kisses your other cheek, hugging you reassuringly. “Perhaps they believed we knew information about ‘family business.’ Or that we were protecting Allison for some reason.”

“She’s just a kid,” you argue, voice breaking as your grief and exhaustion wells up and threatens to overtake you. “She’s only thirteen…”

Piotr says nothing, merely holds you closer.

You sigh—

And then a door slams. Hurried stomps echo down the hall. There’s creaking as a door opens again, followed by more footsteps and exasperated shouts.

Allison storms past you and Piotr, heading towards the kitchen. Her jaw is set, fists clenched at her sides.

You and Piotr look at each other –then follow after her, if only to be sure that nothing else is going to explode today.

She slams her hands down on the island counter –and, on the opposite side, Frank and Karen both flinch and stare at her warily.

Allison glares at Frank, jaw working convulsively. Her shoulders heave with each breath she takes. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, making the bags underneath seem darker and deeper by comparison. She trembles, expression flickering wildly between grief, white hot rage, and the neutral mask she’s trying so desperately to hold. She sucks in a breath that sounds more like a pained sob, then stares Frank down and spits out through gritted teeth, “You leave my people alone, I leave yours alone. Deal?”

Frank sighs. He nods, expression heavy with grief and eyes shining with remorse. “Yeah, kid. You got a deal.”

Allison clenches the edge of the island so hard her hands go white. She lets out a strangled, angry laugh as the tears finally start to fall. She ducks her head briefly, then glares back up at Frank. “I fucking hate you.”

Frank grimaces, but nods and says, “I know kid. It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“That ain’t worth shit.”

“I know… believe me, I know.”

Artemis –who’d previously been watching at the kitchen threshold—steps forward and puts her arm around Allison’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Allison clenches her teeth together, but still lets out a choked sob. She presses her lips together, looking around the room to try and regain her composure, to stop the flow of tears. She manages a deep breath, then takes one last look at Frank and snarls, “If I have to see your fucking face again, I’m ripping out your guts,” before storming out of the room.

Frank, to his credit, doesn’t respond (though you suspect he feels too guilty to even consider arguing). He merely hangs his head, expression that of a kicked dog.

Karen leans against him. She interlocks her fingers with his, murmuring in his ear (likely about how it isn’t his fault, and while it looks like that may technically be the case, you’re glad you don’t have to walk the spider’s silk of a line those facts lie upon).

What a shitshow.

Piotr puts an arm around your shoulders and gently leads you out of the kitchen. “Come on, myshka. Let’s go find spot to rest.”

…

Frank and Karen leave shortly after “making the deal” with Allison.

Allison and Artemis hang back for a bit to talk to Xavier. You don’t get all the gorey details but from what you can tell, it’s essentially an offer to help train Allison’s powers so she doesn’t hurt herself rolled in with a warning to keep her nose clean, stay on the straight and narrow, etcetera etcetera.

The sun’s just starting its descent from the sky before the two of them walk out of the meeting room.

Allison is wearing Artemis’s jacket and looks downright haggard.

Artemis has her arm around the teen and is gently guiding her while she talks to Xavier (though, perhaps the term “talk” is too generous, considering most of her responses are nods or terse, one-to-two word replies).

The rest of the Rasputin family, you, Piotr, and your uncle are all gathered in the foyer to make sure Allison and Artemis leave without too much trouble (or causing more trouble themselves).

Your uncle is sweating bullets and looks like he just shit his pants; he’s glancing between Alex and their daughter so fast it’s a miracle he hasn’t given himself a headache yet.

Now or never, you think, watching him with pursed lips. Tell your secrets before they’re told for you.

Alex kneels down next to Allison. “Are you okay?”

Allison’s gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “The fuck do you think?”

She quirks her mouth to the side. “Not all that good.” Alex ducks her head lower, trying to catch Allison’s gaze. “You remember what we talked about?”

Allison’s eyes narrow. She moves her gaze away from Alex. “Go to hell. I know what I know.”

“Sometimes… it’s better to not,” Alex says. She stares at Allison for a moment longer, then pats her shoulder before standing and walking away.

Artemis stares after Alex, expression morphing rapidly between fury and shock. She sputters for a moment before snapping, “What –that’s all you have to fucking say?”

Alex pauses, turning slightly so she can see Artemis. She raises one eyebrow, otherwise looking unbothered. “Is there something else I should be saying?”

“You don’t have anything to say to me?” Artemis presses, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing at all?”

“Is there something you want me to say to you?” Alex fires back, smirking slightly.

Artemis stares at Alex for a long, hard moment. She shakes her head, eyes welling up with tears, then turns her glare onto your uncle. “You really didn’t fucking tell her.”

“What?” Alex’s expression sobers, going wary as she looks between your uncle and Artemis. “What didn’t you—”

“This really isn’t the time or place—” Your uncle tries.

And here it goes.

“I’ve gotta do all the work, then,” Artemis snarls with a vicious smile. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense, considering I’m not your favorite,” she tacks on with an angry glare towards you. She storms towards Alex, one hand outstretched, with a cruel, angry smile stretched across her face. “Hey, mom. How’s it going?”

Alex’s eyes widen. She stares at Artemis, eyes tracking over the younger woman’s face. “What…”

“You fucking heard me.”

Illyana, Piotr, and Mikhail look at each other, then at Alex, then at Nikolai. They explode into confused Russian, gesturing between their parents, Artemis, and your uncle—

Realization dawns in Alex’s dark eyes. Her expression trembles, tears welling up in her eyes as she stares at Artemis’s face.

And then she uses her telekinesis to yank your uncle over and decks him.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #frank castle x karen page #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #love me some soap opera style drama #and frankly so does marvel #and honestly if marvel can have whatever tf infinity war and endgame were i can have this #probably shouldn't have built alex's whole backstory and have it be outside the scope of this series bUT OH WELL #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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knuffled · 3 years

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Just Practice - Chapter 15

this is the most important chapter in the story so far since chapter seven, so i hope you enjoy this! if you could drop a comment and/or reblog to support all the hard work, it would mean a lot to me!

here’s the ao3 link

The first thing that greeted Annabeth when she stepped out of her car was the sound of crashing waves and the smell of sea salt carried on a gentle breeze. She leaned against the side of her car and drank in the view of the ocean, relishing in the way the wind tousled her hair. The beach was packed with families and college students on spring break, and for good reason. It was late March, and the weather was absolutely perfect outside. The sand was pleasantly warm between her toes, and seagulls cawed overhead in a clear blue sky.

Coming to the beach for spring break had been Rachel’s idea. Her father owned a villa not far from the shore, and she had offered to let them all stay there overnight. It was exactly what Annabeth needed after the past month and a half. After Percy’s victory at state, Annabeth had been absolutely swamped with school work. Nearly every week there was some new project deadline, essay to turn in, or exam to study for, and by the time finals rolled around, Annabeth found herself running on fumes. She hadn’t realized how bad it was until she came home after her final exam and promptly passed the fuck out in her room only to wake up the following afternoon, seventeen hours later.

Annabeth gave herself some time to just stand barefoot in the sand until Piper texted her, informing her that she and Jason were setting up camp further down the beach where it was more secluded. Taking that as her cue to move, Annabeth leisurely made her way down the beach and found Piper and Jason a few minutes later, trying to set up a beach umbrella. The umbrella was an ancient red and white striped monstrosity that looked like it had seen better days. Annabeth watched her friends struggle for a while, amused by how frustrated they were getting when the base of the umbrella slipped in the sand, until Piper noticed her and scowled.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch or do you plan on helping out?” Piper huffed.

“But you were doing oh so well without me,” Annabeth said innocently. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way or anything.”

Jason put a hand on Piper’s shoulder before she could snap and offered Annabeth a tired smile. “We could really use your help, Annabeth.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Piper muttered something foul under her breath, but Annabeth couldn’t help grinning anyways before she went to help Jason. It took longer than she would have liked, but eventually the three of them managed to get the umbrella to stay in place, just as Hazel, Frank, and Leo arrived.

Leo pointed at the umbrella and said, “That thing looks like it came straight out of the fifties.”

“Shut it, Valdez,” Piper snapped. “We just spent nearly twenty minutes trying to get that fucker to stay still.”

Leo held his palms up in surrender. “Ok, apologies. Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I get it. It’s cool.”

“That wasn’t an invitation to keep talking,” Piper warned.

Leo pantomimed zipping his lips, making Annabeth grin. Rolling her eyes, Hazel unzipped her backpack and handed each of them a bottle of homemade lemonade.

“Hopefully, it’s still cold and all the ice didn’t melt,” Hazel said.

Piper took a sip and moaned, “Hazel, you’re a goddamn lifesaver.”

“Don’t make noises like that in public,” Annabeth quipped.

Although she wanted to glare at Annabeth, Piper spotted Rachel and Percy further down the beach and called out to them instead. Annabeth’s heart suddenly began pounding harder in her chest, and she found herself involuntarily searching for him over her shoulder. They had barely talked or even seen each other since State, so she had expected to be more excited to see him, but she found herself strangely nervous instead. The nervousness only grew worse for some reason when Percy noticed her and sent her a warm smile.

“Sorry we’re late,” Percy said. “Rache forgot something so we had to drive back to her place.”

“Let’s not sweat the details,” Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively. “Now, I don’t know about you all, but I am dying to get into the water. Anyone know where the changing rooms are?”

“I saw some on the way here,” Hazel said. “Annabeth, did you want to join us?”

Annabeth cleared her throat and shook her head. “Uh, no, I’m wearing my swimsuit under my clothes already.”

With that, Hazel nodded and left with Rachel for the changing rooms. The boys went down to the water, but Percy stayed behind since he had brought some beach towels with him. He spread them beneath the umbrella so they wouldn’t have to sit on the sand. Piper left a short while later once she was done applying some sunscreen, leaving Annabeth and Percy alone. Annabeth borrowed Piper’s sunscreen as an excuse to leave after Percy did, but he plopped down beside her with a sigh instead.

Annabeth couldn’t help sneaking a quick sidelong glance at him. He looked good, really good. His unzipped black sweatshirt billowed in the breeze and stood in sharp contrast to the white shirt he wore underneath. There was a relaxed, easy smile on his face, and his sun-kissed skin made him look positively radiant.

“Hey, stranger,” Percy said, derailing her thoughts. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

Annabeth tucked her hair behind her reddening ears and said, “Y-Yeah, not since State, I think.”

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” Percy said.

Annabeth breathed a laugh. “Not entirely sure about that.”

Percy cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You do look a little worse for the wear.”

“Rude.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember warning you not to take three AP courses your senior year, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

Annabeth scowled and said, “You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

Percy laughed and leaned back on his elbows. “And what would be the fun in that? It’s not every day that you get to tell Annabeth Chase that you told her so.”

“Someone sure sounds awfully pleased with himself.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” Percy said, grinning. “But I do suppose I can cut you some slack. You know, considering how we’re at the beach and all.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Percy made a show of clapping mildly. “Oh, well done. That sounded like an SAT word.”

Annabeth barked a laugh despite herself and shoved him, but that only made his grin widen. She was relieved to feel the awkwardness dissipating between them, but her respite was short lived because Percy suddenly removed his shirt and tossed it on the towel beside her.

“W-What are you doing? Why are you taking off your clothes?” Annabeth stammered, unable to hide the panic in her voice.

Percy looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. “It’s kind of hard to go swimming when you still have your clothes on.”

Annabeth looked away to hide the fact that her face was turning pink. “I know that! But can’t you go change in the changing rooms?”

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “Oh, sorry. You’ve seen me do this like a hundred times, so I didn’t think that you’d mind.”

He was right. She had seen him shirtless more times than she could count, so why was she suddenly being so weird about it? She needed to get a fucking grip. And yet, it was everything she could do not to stare shamelessly at him. Christ, at this proximity, the scent of his cologne was inescapable, and it only served to make her feel even more flustered.

“Annabeth, are you okay? You’ve been acting really strange,” Percy said.

“I-I’m fine,” Annabeth squeaked. “Just tired.”

“Alright, try not to push yourself,” Percy said, standing up. “I’m gonna head down to the water now. Let me know if you need anything.”

Annabeth nodded, still refusing to look at him. It was only after he was gone that she stopped holding her breath. She screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands. What the fuck was she doing? Why was she acting so weird? All her feelings seemed to contradict one another. She felt a bizarre mix of exhilaration and anxiety, like thousands of butterflies fluttering about in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were drawn to Percy even though she couldn’t bear to look at him. There was definitely something wrong with her.

Annabeth took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up and head down to the water. For now, she resolved herself to just make the most of her time at the beach instead of wallowing in her own awkwardness. Nevertheless, she did make a point of avoiding where Percy was to give herself a breather. However, in her momentary lapse of concentration, Piper snuck up on her and tackled her into the sea, sending salt water rushing up her nose.

She surfaced sputtering and discombobulated only to find Piper laughing uproariously behind her. Annabeth chased after her in a murderous rage, but Piper quickly retreated to the sea and put some distance between them. Piper had always been the better swimmer, so it took a few minutes before Annabeth finally caught her, but once she did, Annabeth dunked her underwater for a full minute as payback.

Eventually, Rachel and Hazel returned from the changing rooms and joined them in the water as well. They all splashed around together for a few hours under the midday sun, and Annabeth forgot all about how awkward she felt around Percy.

They broke for lunch after that and settled on a shack that sold burgers further up the beach. Unfortunately, the only vegetarian option on the menu was fries, so Piper had to drive herself to a nearby Taco Bell. Annabeth couldn’t help feeling sorry for her when Piper returned twenty minutes later, absolutely livid, because the rest of them had already finished eating.

“I can’t fucking believe there are still restaurants in this day and age that don’t have vegetarian options,” Piper fumed.

“Remind me to buy some stuff for dinner tonight so you don’t have to do this again,” Rachel said, yawning.

“How far away is your villa again?” Frank asked.

“Just a fifteen minute drive or so,” Rachel said, finishing her salad. “We’ve got a firepit out back, so we can have a bonfire tonight! We can make smores and everything.”

“Dibs on lighting the bonfire,” Leo said quickly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Piper said vehemently.

“C’mon, I promise I’ll keep it under control this time, Pipes,” Leo pleaded.

“The last time you were in charge of the bonfire, you nearly burned my fucking house down,” Piper snapped.

“That was like three years ago!”

“It was at my birthday last June.”

“I’ll handle the fire, Leo,” Jason interrupted. “You can help me out if you’d like.”

Leo sank in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You guys are no fun.”

“A bonfire sounds nice,” Frank said, ignoring him.

“Yeah, it’ll be chill,” Rachel said, nodding. “We’ll have a section of the beach all to ourselves. I think my dad probably has some alcohol stashed away somewhere in the house.”

“Percy, watch over us and make sure we don’t do anything stupid,” Piper said, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Percy gave her a wary look. “I don’t recall volunteering to be a babysitter.”

“But you’re the only one here that doesn’t drink,” Piper protested. “Pretty please?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Buttering me up isn’t going to work, you know.”

“Annabeth, help me convince your boyfriend,” Piper whined.

Annabeth paused mid-drink and looked between them. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one that’ll get black-out drunk and try to like hunt for mermaids or something.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, much to Piper’s chagrin.

After they finished eating, they returned to their spot under the umbrella. Hazel and Frank went back to laze around in the water while Rachel and Leo decided to go build sandcastles on the beach. The rest of them sat under the umbrella and talked amongst themselves for a while, but eventually Jason left for the bathroom. Percy joined him because he said he had spotted a shop selling snow cones on the way here, leaving Annabeth alone with Piper.

Once they were out of earshot, Piper turned to Annabeth with a wolfish grin. “Lovin’ the swimsuit, babe.”

“This is hardly anything special,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. She was just wearing a plain black two piece she’d found at Target the summer before.

Piper raised an eyebrow and said, “Percy certainly seemed to think it was. Boy couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise. Piper had to be trolling her. Sure, she had felt his eyes on her a few times, but that didn’t mean anything.

“You’re obviously fucking with me.”

“I’m being serious,” Piper laughed. “You look hot, Annababe.”

Annabeth looked down at her swimsuit and felt her face heat up. She didn’t really think she was much to look at honestly. It wasn’t like she had low self-esteem or anything, but her body had always been more of an instrument to her than a source of beauty. If you asked her, the only things she really had going for her were her height and the slender, toned physique that she had built over years of running long distance. Beyond that, Annabeth thought she was rather plain.

“Thanks,” Annabeth mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” Piper said, stifling a yawn. “I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

Annabeth shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the beach for Percy, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Instead of sitting around and getting stuck in her thoughts, Annabeth decided to take her mind off things and search for him instead.

She stood up and brushed the sand off her thighs and said, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“Ok, stay safe,” Piper said. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

Annabeth nodded and made her way back in the direction of the parking lot. Percy had said that the snow cone shop was on the other end, but he still should have gotten back by now. Maybe he was having trouble carrying all those snow cones by himself or perhaps the line was really long. She made it all the way to the shop without running into Percy, and she couldn’t see him standing in line either.

She scanned the surrounding area for him without much luck and almost gave up on her search when she spotted the familiar outline of his back. He was cradling a carton of snow cones in his arms and talking to two college aged girls. Annabeth took a step forward, trepidation filling her chest. She couldn’t make out the look on his face because his back was turned towards her, but she thought she caught a glimpse of a polite, confused smile on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure why the girls were talking to him.

Annabeth balled her hands in fists at her sides and clenched her jaw. It was obvious by the way the girls laughed sycophantically and twirled their hair, practically thrusting their tits in his face, that they were hitting on him. What did the idiot think would happen if he was gonna waltz around the beach shirtless like that?

She had half a mind to go over and interrupt them, but for some reason she found herself rooted in place. Annabeth wasn’t sure why she disliked them so much, but the more she thought about it, the less reason she realized she had to interfere. Percy wasn’t actually her boyfriend after all. Besides, he was free to leave at any time, but he hadn’t which probably meant he wanted to be there. In any case, it was none of her business to step in.

And yet, she couldn’t force herself to simply turn on her heels and leave either.

But then one of the girls, a haughty looking redhead, started tugging on his forearm insistently. Percy made a small show of resistance, enough to show he wasn’t interested, but apparently they didn’t seem to pick up on that because the other girl decided to help her friend by tugging Percy’s other arm.

Annabeth moved without realizing what she was doing and pulled Percy against her chest. A possessive thrill rushed through her when the look of discomfort on his face gave way to relief once he saw her.

She positioned herself in front of Percy and glared at the girls. “What’s going on here?”

The redhead’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she forced herself to muster a saccharine smile. “Oh, we were just inviting him to come have some drinks with us.”

“Can’t you see he’s clearly uncomfortable?” Annabeth asked. “I’m guessing he even told you he doesn’t drink too.”

The girls exchanged looks with each other. “I mean, he was obviously joking about that.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

The girls recoiled like they had been slapped across the face. Annabeth took the opportunity to whisper to Percy that they were leaving and led him away by the hand before the girls could react. The girls protested behind them, but the only thing Annabeth could focus on was the feeling of Percy’s hand in hers. Blood pounded in Annabeth’s ears, and something simmered in her veins like magma. It took her a while to realize that Percy was calling out for her to stop.

“Annabeth, slow down,” Percy said. “You’re hurting me.”

Annabeth dropped his wrist like she’d been burned and looked away. “Sorry.”

Percy set the snow cones down and rubbed his wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sur-”

“I said I’m fine,” Annabeth snapped.

Her tone was harsh enough to prove she was lying, but she couldn’t help it. Something dark smoldered in the pit of her stomach, making her restless. She didn’t know what it was, but the sensation was intolerable and she wanted it to stop.

Percy put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to face him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists and stared at her feet. “I-I don’t know. I’m just- I don’t know, I feel really weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just hated it, seeing the way they were clinging on to you,” Annabeth said tightly. “Why didn’t you just leave? It was like you wanted them to fawn all over you.”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me leave.”

Annabeth met his eyes for the first time. “If you really wanted to leave, they wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

Percy blinked in surprise and furrowed his brow. “Are you- are you jealous?”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, and her face began to prickle. “I-I don’t know. I just didn’t like it.”

Percy’s lips tugged upwards involuntarily in a smile, making Annabeth even angrier. “What’s so funny?”

Percy hid his smile behind his hand. “Oh, um, nothing. Sorry. I just wanted to say that you didn’t have anything to worry about. They were making me super uncomfortable.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“Annabeth, come on, you could tell that they were creeping the fuck out of me from a mile away,” Percy said exasperatedly.

That was enough to coax a smile out of her. “You mean you didn’t like getting eye fucked by total strangers?”

Percy gave her an incredulous look and said, “You know, having tried it, I can’t really say it’s for me.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Percy said flatly. “Besides, I already have a lovely fake-girlfriend willing to save me when I’m a damsel in distress.”

Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds like a real catch.”

“Oh, she most definitely is.”

Annabeth knew that Percy had meant it as a joke, but it made her heart squeeze a little in her chest all the same. She turned away before her face turned red and fought the ridiculous urge to smile. Christ, she needed to get ahold of herself.

“You good?” Percy asked carefully.

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah.”

“We should get going then,” Percy said. “The snow cones are starting to melt.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Annabeth said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t be rude to the guy that bought you a strawberry-rhubarb snow cone.”

“A thousand apologies, your majesty.”

Percy hummed happily to himself. “That’s more like it.”

:::

After sunset, they finally left the beach and made for Rachel’s villa. The villa was massive, easily twice the size of Annabeth’s house, and designed in a Spanish style. Annabeth took a moment to admire the terracotta tiled roof, and the large windows that allowed for a generous view of the Pacific. The villa had six separate bedrooms, which she personally found a bit excessive, but it proved to be for the best since there were eight of them. After Rachel took a room for herself, the rest of them drew straws to determine who would have a room to themselves, and Annabeth somehow managed to win.

Annabeth’s first course of action after dropping off her luggage was to shower. She didn’t like having to shower after spending so much time in the ocean since it made her skin all dry and wrinkly, but it was still a relief to finally wash off all the sand that had stuck to her all day. Unfortunately, Annabeth had been forced to pack in a hurry, so she could only change into what she worn earlier that morning. She had only brought a single change of clothes with her and that was for tomorrow.

She took some time to admire her room while she towel-dried her hair. It wasn’t particularly large, but it was tastefully decorated. A large queen bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by a small cherry wood drawer. Sheer linen curtains framed a tall window that looked out over the ocean. Annabeth leaned against the open window sill and drank in the view of the Pacific. The full moon hung directly overhead and cast its pale, diffused reflection onto the dark water below.

Just as she finished drying her hair, there was a knock at her door. Percy peered into her room, fiddling with the zipper on his sweatshirt.

“Hey, ready to go? I think Jason and Leo are getting the fire started.”

Annabeth set her towel aside and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The bonfire was nearly fully lit by the time they arrived. Jason sat atop one of the four logs circling the pit and kept a watchful eye on the flames. Off to the side, Frank was helping Leo dump some charcoal into the mouth of an expensive looking barbeque grill. Rachel and Hazel chatted to themselves and cut meat and vegetables at the outdoor kitchen countertop. Piper was the only one that appeared to be missing.

Percy noticed that Frank and Leo were having trouble and went over to help them with the grill, leaving Annabeth alone. She didn’t want to be the only one twiddling her thumbs so she figured she would go and help Rachel and Hazel.

“Need any help?” Annabeth asked them.

Hazel shook her head. “No thanks. We are pretty much done here, but we appreciate the offer.”

“Besides, not sure how much I trust you in the kitchen with a knife,” Rachel teased.

“I’m not completely hopeless. I made Percy chicken soup when he got sick, and he said it was pretty good,” Annabeth protested.

Rachel laughed and said, “You could literally make Percy drink poison, and he’d tell you it was delicious if you were the one that made it.”

Blood rushed to Annabeth’s face, making Rachel laugh even harder. She patted Annabeth’s shoulder benevolently and said, “Trust me. It’s for your own good, Chase.”

Annabeth shrugged her off and sat on one of the logs with a scowl. “Where’s Piper?”

“Rachel forgot to get her ingredients, so she had to go buy herself dinner again, the poor girl,” Hazel said.

Rachel looked repentant enough for Annabeth to feel sorry for her, so Annabeth tried to comfort her by saying, “She’s probably more than happy to have Taco Bell twice in one day.”

Annabeth started when someone swatted the back of her head. She turned and looked up with a frown to see Piper standing behind her, holding a burrito.

“Heard that, asshole.”

“You’re literally eating a burrito right now,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper’s face turned pink. “It’s from Chipotle! You can tell by the size!”

“Wow, someone’s getting adventurous,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Piper sat down at the log across from her, beside Jason, and narrowed her eyes. “Bite me.”

Annabeth was interrupted by Leo before she could respond. He skipped over to them with a manic grin and said, “We finally got the grill working!”

“You’re not gonna accidentally blow us up or anything right?” Piper asked dubiously.

“Pipes, charcoal can’t explode,” Leo said flatly. “I know you’re a vegetarian and all, but that’s literally second grade science class.”

“You can never be too sure when it comes to you,” Piper sniffed.

Leo rolled his eyes and waltzed over to Hazel and Rachel. “Looks like you’re almost done! I’ll start taking things over to the grill to get started.”

“Frank, make sure you keep an eye on him!” Hazel shouted when Leo took a plateful of meat and vegetables with him.

Rachel declared to the group that she would go find where her father had stashed his alcohol and returned a short while later with an assortment of liquor and a tray full of glasses. They all poured themselves drinks, apart from Percy, and sat around the fire.

Annabeth had helped herself to some fancy looking bourbon, mainly because she had never tried it before. Her first sip made her throat burn and forced her to cough. Percy gave her a worried look, but she ignored him and took another sip. Once she got over how strong it was, she had to admit that the bourbon was really good. It didn’t take long for that familiar warmth to spread through her body and soften the harsh edges of the world around her.

It took some time for the food to arrive, but it was well worth the wait. Frank had found an array of spices in the kitchen pantry to season the meat with, so even the smell was incredible. After an exhausting day at the beach, they all practically inhaled their food. Piper finished her food first since she had a head start and set up a smores station for dessert. It wasn’t long before they were fighting for spots to roast their marshmallows on the fire.

Later, Rachel disappeared inside the villa and returned with an acoustic guitar. She strummed a few chords and started singing softly, the sound of waves and the crackling fire providing an ambient backdrop. At first, she sang on her own and they were content to listen, but as they got more drunk and uninhibited, they would join in whenever she played a tune they recognized. Barring Frank and Piper, the rest of them were practically tone-deaf, so it sounded so bad that it would send them all into fits of laughter.

It was at times like this that Annabeth was struck by just how lucky she was to have such good friends. She didn’t have many good things in her life, but this was one of them and it wouldn’t last forever. There was no telling where they would all be in a years time or if they would ever be this close again, but that didn’t make her feel sad. Instead, an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude surged through her veins, compelling her to drink in every moment and seat it into her memory so that she would never forget.

But through it all, Annabeth found her eyes drawn to the boy sitting beside her the most. She unconsciously pulled herself closer to Percy over the course of the night and luxuriated in the way their elbows knocked together, a reminder that he was there. Annabeth would catch herself staring at him and the way the flames lit up his laughing face, making him all look every bit as invincible as she felt. At some point, she caught his hand and tangled his fingers between her own, and when he squeezed her hand, she smiled so hard it hurt.

As the night wore on, more of them left, unable to stay awake any longer, until eventually Percy and Annabeth were the only one remaining. The quietness was welcome change after all the noise they had been making, but it was hard not to fall asleep the sound of the rolling waves. Annabeth struggled to keep her drooping eyes open, but Percy looked perfectly fine, probably because he was the only one who hadn’t drank.

“You should go get some sleep,” Percy murmured. “Look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Annabeth hummed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t want to.”

“If you’re expecting me to carry you, you’re going to be sorely mistaken,” Percy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re too heavy.”

If she had the energy, Annabeth would have scowled. “Rude.”

Percy grinned and looked out over the ocean with a pensive, almost melancholy look. Annabeth poked his cheek with her finger to get him to look at her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Percy said. “About everything, I guess.”

“Hmm, deep.”

Percy laughed and said, “Alright, smarty pants, I was thinking about the future and my friends and you.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” Annabeth asked, sitting up straighter.

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “I look sad?”

Annabeth nodded and pressed a finger to his brow. “You’re giving yourself wrinkles, like you always do when you’re upset.”

There was a pause before Percy said, “Remember earlier when you saved me from those college girls?”

“What about it?”

Percy stared up at the sky and smiled bitterly. “I never imagined you would ever get jealous over me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Annabeth found herself saying, “Neither did I.”

Percy turned to her with wide eyes, making her frown. “What?”

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to answer seriously.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and nudged him affectionately. “I’m taking this seriously because you are.”

Percy smiled softly and said, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, you dork,” Annabeth said fondly. “Honestly, since when did you become the serious, responsible out of the two of us. What ever happened to the kid that caught frogs during recess and put worms in Nancy Bobofit’s locker?”

Percy laughed and said, “Well, one of us had to grow up, so I figured it might as well be me.”

Annabeth half-heartedly jabbed him with her elbow. “Jerk.”

“You’ve grown up a lot too,” Percy said. “You just don’t realize it.”

“Yeah, how so?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve learned to temper yourself. When you were younger, it was like fire ran through your veins. You acted like the world and everything were promised to you, not out of some sense of arrogance, but like it was your birthright. I remember how you used to argue with the teachers and stuff in front of the whole class because it never occurred to you that there were people you shouldn’t pick fights with. I was always kind of in of awe of how stupidly brave you were. I still am,” Percy said, softly.

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. Percy was right, about everything, but that wasn’t what was getting to her. It was the fact that his words were a testament to the fact that he had been there with her since the beginning. He had seen her as a bossy, bratty little seven year old and had stuck by her side all the way till now.

“We have been through a lot together, haven’t we?” Annabeth asked thickly.

The tender look in Percy’s eyes made her heart squeeze a little in her chest. “Yeah, we have.”

Annabeth screwed her eyes shut, unable to look at him. She didn’t want this to end, but the moment was beginning to get too much for her, so she stood up suddenly.

“Alright, enough with all the sappiness,” Annabeth said. “Race you to the beach?”

Without waiting for him to respond, Annabeth took off for the water’s edge, running as hard as she could. Percy started a moment later, humoring her like always, and quickly made up the distance. If it wasn’t for the sand and the fact that she was super drunk, Annabeth would have won, but it wasn’t long before Percy caught up to her and slung her over his shoulder. Annabeth shrieked and pounded on his back.

“You better not dump me in the water, you asshole!” Annabeth yelled.

Percy ignored her and sped towards the water, making her fear for the worst. She braced herself for impact, but it never came. Instead, he set her down onto dry sand and grinned down at her. Annabeth scowled and stood up, dusting the sand off her shorts, watching as he rolled up his shorts and waded further into the water. The encroaching tide was cold enough to make her jump when it tickled her toes, but Percy seemed perfectly fine going knee deep into it.

The moonlight streamed down on him, illuminating half his face with its pale glow. Wind rustled his hair and billowed through his clothes as he stared out at the horizon. Under the moonlight, he seemed to age backwards and actually look his eighteen years - the hard lines of worry on his brow smoothened, and the tightness and frustration in his jaws released. There was something about his pale figure standing in the inky sea that made him look so beautiful and true that it made it hard for her to breathe. It reminded her of how Piper had said she had fallen for Jason, how he had seemed to glow, and she couldn’t help feeling like she understood exactly what Piper had meant.

Percy noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists at her side. She wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet. “N-Nothing.”

Percy didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged all the same. Annabeth stared down at her feet so that she wouldn’t be forced to look at him, but her heart pounded in her chest urgently. She started when Percy draped his sweatshirt over her shoulders and stepped past her. It was warm, and it smelled like him.

“I’m gonna head inside,” Percy said softly. “Don’t stay out for too long, okay?”

Annabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Percy lingered there for a moment longer before leaving. Annabeth waited till she heard him enter the villa before she collapsed down on the sand and hugged her knees to her chest. An explanation for her actions and feelings today were finally starting to dawn on her, which sent equal parts terror and exhilaration coursing through her as she stared up at the moon. Her inability to look at him conflicting with her desire never to leave him, the nervousness and exhilaration, the jealousy - all of it pointed to one thing. She was just having a hard time accepting it.

Whenever Annabeth had imagined falling in love, she had expected it to strike her like a bolt of lightning, illuminating her with a sudden, arresting, all-consuming knowledge.

She hadn’t ever imagined that it would be like this: soft and gentle, like an unfolding discovery, the way the petals unfurled when a flower bloomed. And yet, just as sure, just as certain.

Annabeth buried her face in her hands. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

Fuck.

She was in love with him, wasn’t she? She was in love with Percy Jackson.

#just practice #percabeth #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fake dating au

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thiscastielhasflown · 3 years

Text

day one of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: diner and road trip cas is a human, he goes on a road trip with dean (who secretly loves guy fieri) and they visit jody who is honestly just a third-wheel. (2.4k)

"Can you move more towards my left?"

Cas stares blankly at Dean who is holding a vintage Polaroid camera up to his eyes and frantically gesturing with his other hand indicating which side for the other man to move towards. Blinking rapidly, Cas nervously looks from side to side before planting his feet in a new spot, kicking up dust onto his newly acquired pair of tennis shoes.

"No no, a little bit more to the right now. Just one more step—"

Cas awkwardly takes baby steps while watching Dean, making sure he's on the right track. His legs still getting used to walking again after their non-stop drive from a small town outside of Billings, Montana since earlier that same morning. Dean insisted they get a head start to the first location before the families end up "taking all of the good parking spots".

This is their first solo hunt since Cas became his current human form, something he still isn't entirely confident with yet — and most likely never will be. After giving himself about a month to recuperate and time to get used to his "new" body, it was probably about time to get back into the swing of things again. Hunting, the only sense of prior reality that has continued to follow him into his new life.

It was clear to Dean the change in Cas' demeanor, noticing that he was sulking around the bunker more often (only during the times when he actually leaves his bedroom), and a certain spark he used to have no longer made its presence. Ultimately, it was Sam who suggested the trip, mentioning that a hunter friend of theirs had called to inform them about a vampire infestation near Billings and politely asked for extra support.

Cas insisted that Sam should be the one to take his place, even offering to stay back in the bunker to give it a deep clean it so desperately needed. In standard Dean Winchester fashion, he patted Cas on the back and said that they'd make a mid-summer vacation out of it. Of course, at this point, Cas had no say on the subject and woke up the next morning with a backpack pre-packed ready for him.

"Ah, there! Perfect! Now stay exactly where you are, don't even think about moving a muscle. Hold your breath if you have to."

With no hesitation, Cas sucks in an exaggerated deep breath and inflates his cheeks to keep the oxygen inside his mouth. Dean rolls his eyes behind the camera before pressing the shutter button that lets out an audible CLICK and coinciding blinding light of the flash going off.

Once the polaroid ejects from the camera, Dean pulls it out and gives it a light shake, letting his camera dangle around his neck by its convenient strap.

"Well, that's as good as we're going to get it,” Dean closes the distance between him and Cas, walking up to turn him back around so he's facing the correct side of the landscape.

The two stand next to each other looking off into the vastness of terracotta-colored canyons carved into the earth below them. Cas has to contain every bone in his body from reaching out to grab the hand of Dean's already brushing up against his.

“Here, can you hold onto this?” Dean hands over the undeveloped photo to Cas, who nods and grabs onto it delicately.

They stand in silence for a couple of minutes basking in their panoramic view, the sound of gleefully screaming children and stern parents echoing around them until Cas finally speaks up, "So where exactly are we again Dean?"

Dean gasps in exaggerated surprise, "Badlands National Park in South Dakota Cas, one of the greatest wonders in the United States and possibly even the world. I'm serious. Take a look here—"

Dean pulls out the complimentary map of the park and flips to the back page, "—a man named Frank Lloyd Wright called the badlands an, “inescapable sense of mysterious". Only a badass like him would make a comment like that. Have you been anywhere else in your life this awe-inspiring?"

Cas pauses, "Yes. Galaxy GN-z11 located about 13.4 billion light-years from here."

Dean opens his mouth to say something before shutting it promptly, giving himself more time to formulate a response, "Well. Alright Mr. Showoff, anything else you wanna share with the class?"

"You asked, so I answered," Cas answers in a monotone voice, "I guess, now that I'm a human, it's the second most beautiful thing I've seen."

"Huh. Then what was the first?"

Don't say it. Cas swallows his inner thoughts and shrugs his shoulders, "It's a secret."

Dean shoves Cas playfully to the side and laughs, "Since when have you started keeping secrets from me?"

Cas fakes a laugh in response and lets his head hang down to cover the tinge of a blush creeping across his face.

"I didn't just bring you here for the scenery, does the name sound familiar to you?"

Cas tilts his head to the side in interest, "Name, Dean? What name?"

Dean sighs and shuts his eyes for a second, “Bandlands, like the movie. I made you watch it."

"Oh yes, I do remember. Starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as star-crossed murdering lovers," Cas turns his head to look at Dean, "Are you insinuating we're like them?"

"N-no, well—not exactly? I mean, we've both killed...things before but I'm not insinuating we should go on a murdering spree. Unless we come across another pack of vamps. But this is our vacation with no work allowed, you hear me?"

Dean claps at Cas' shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before letting go, "Time to head out buddy, better to get on the road now so we can make it to the Corn Palace before it closes."

Cas stands confused as he watches Dean take off on the path towards the area they parked the Impala, "Corn Palace?"

****

Staring into the sun setting over the horizon in front of him as he drives, Dean reaches into his pocket to pull out his cell phone and holds it up to his ear. He lets his eyes raise to look out the rearview mirror while the phone rings.

"Hey Jody, are you home right now?"

Jody hesitates on the other side of the phone, "Odd question but yes I am. Everything okay?"

"We're about an hour out from your homestead and were wondering if the two of us could bunk over tonight.”

"Of course! You and Sam are always welcome to stay over anytime."

Dean looks over at Cas fast asleep in the passenger seat next to him, a souvenir foam cob of corn hat from the Corn Palace gift shop functioning as a comfortable barrier between his head and the window, “No, it’s uh—Cas and I. Sammy isn't with us.”

"Well, that's a change for once. Regardless, I'll leave the front door unlocked. Just come in and make yourself at home."

"Will do, see you soon. Bye," Dean hangs up the phone and places it back in his lap, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to pass the remaining driving time.

Once Dean turns down Jody's familiar street corner he calls out into the darkness of the car, "Cas, can you wake up for me? We're almost at our stopping point of the night."

Cas stirs, making a low humming sound but continues to sleep. Dean curses under his breath and turns into Jody's driveway and parks the car, thinking of the best plan to get not only their bags — but Cas — into the house in one piece.

He decides on starting with the bags first, reaching into the backseat area to grab them off of the floorboard carefully as possible without bonking Cas' sleeping body. Holding onto one in each hand, he exits the vehicle without trying to disturb his sleeping passenger.

"Hey there Dean, good to see ya!" Jody leans in for a hug and Dean maneuvers with the bags to give her a proper hug back, "Where's Cas?"

"Dead asleep in the car. I gotta go—" Dean signals towards the door with his thumb, "wrangle him out of there."

"I'll go put these bags in the guest room, take as much time as you need."

Dean walks off back towards the car, formulating a plan in his head. When reaching the car, he slowly opens the passenger side door and Cas instinctively leans away from it, cuddling up against the center console.

"Cas. Hey Cas, we're at Jody's house," Dean leans in to unbuckle Cas from the seat, jostling him enough in hopes of waking him up, "come on now, if you get up now you can go right back to sleep in a comfy bed."

Cas sleepily grumbles and holds out his arms, to which Dean grabs a hold of and pulls him up from the seat. The corn hat in the process toppling off of his head and onto the seat behind him. Dean pulls Cas' arm around his shoulder and locks his arm around his waist for stability, marching with him up towards Jody's house.

Jody holds the front door open for them, giving Dean a sympathetic look, and whispers, "The guest room is the first door on the right."

With the covers already pulled back, Dean plops Cas into the bed and adjusts his legs, pulling the covers up along with, "Good night," he murmurs before walking out of the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

Jody stands in the area between the living room and kitchen stirring a cup of tea, yawning slightly when Dean enters the living room, "I'm gonna head off to bed, there are leftovers in the fridge so help yourself. You look beat."

Dean scratches at the back of his head in exhaustion, "Been a long couple of days. I'm ready to stretch out on this couch and watch the back of my eyelids."

"Oh, you aren't..." Jody points in the general direction of the guest bedroom.

Dean's eyes widen in embarrassment, "No! I-I mean, Cas is in there, and uh, we didn't get time to talk about sleeping arrangements. So. Yeah. The couch."

"Sorry for...insinuating anything—something. There's a basket of blankets for you to pick from in the closet and I'm going to leave you be now. Get some good sleep, Dean."

"You too Jody, see you in the morning," with a slight wave of his hand, Dean awkwardly watches his friend retreat towards her bedroom. He plops down on the couch and sighs, putting his head in his hands.

****

Cas, Dean, and Jody sit at a tiny table located by the kitchen entrance in one of Sioux Falls’ biggest up-in-coming foodie restaurants, Bread & Circus Sandwich Kitchen — thanks to the exposure from being shown on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, one of Dean's favorite shows. The place was packed to the gills, the trio even had to wait for 45 minutes before getting a table. They only got in this soon because Jody managed to bribe the host with her position within the city.

They skim over the menu, making comments on certain dishes before the waiter finally approaches the table, “Hey there, I’m Jeremy. What can I get y’all to eat?”

Without hesitation, Dean speaks up first, “Guy’s fried chicken sandwich and a side of fries for me.”

Jeremy nods and writes down the order on a pad of paper before point his pen in the direction of Jody, “And for you Ms. Mills?”

“Oh Jer, you should know my usual at this point. The curried cauliflower with an extra side of sauce.”

“Perfect perfect…” he nods his head while writing before flashing a smirking smile at Cas, “Last but not least, what are you havin’?”

“Could I get just the standard burger? Oh, and a side of—”, Cas pauses and leans in closer to the menu to read, “—‘Naughty Fries’ please.”

Dean’s eyes narrow at Jeremy’s clear flirting, but he internally thanks his friend for still being so naive to pick up on the implication.

“I’ll go put these orders in, if you need anything else just flag me down,” Jeremy reaches for their menus and Dean takes this opportunity to shove his at the man a little harder than he should. Payback is sweet.

While their food cooks, the group takes this time to do some catching up with each other. Jody asks about how Sam is doing (“He’s trying to grow a beard and he looks like a grizzly bear” says Dean — Cas agrees to this statement), hunter-related gossip, and about their trip so far.

When Jeremy returns with the food, he sets them in front of each coinciding person before wishing them "good eats" and walks away to tend other tables.

"I've been waiting for this moment for months now," Dean licks his lips before holding the sandwich up to his mouth and taking a decent bite of it, letting out a pleasing crunch sound. Within moments his face changes its expression, lips pursing together with food squished in between each.

“You don’t like it, don’t you?” Jody asks, studying Dean’s reaction to his first bite.

Dean nods and reaches for his drink, using it to wash down the rest of the chewed-up sandwich, “It’s...alright. Not as good as I thought though. Guy made it look a lot better.”

“Switch with me,” Cas speaks up.

“What?”

Cas grabs ahold of Dean’s plate and switches it with his own, picking it up right away and taking a bite of it. Jody looks intently between the both of them, choosing to say out of what’s going on before beginning to eat again.

Dean is left staring with his mouth wide open before looking down at the burger now in front of him, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You ordered a burger because you knew I wouldn’t like the sandwich, right?”

Cas shrugs and continues to eat his new food. Dean shoots a look at Jody to points at the plate in front of him, signaling him to 'eat', which he complies.

Once they're all finished, Jody insists on paying for the food and after arguing at the table, she ends up paying regardless. Wrapping up their conversation, Jody gets a phone call for "official business" leaving the both of them with hugs.

Dean excuses himself to go to the bathroom, telling Cas to go wait for him at the front entrance. Wiping his still-damp hands on his pants, he approaches Cas who is shuffling through complimentary postcards.

"You should get one of those."

Cas jumps and turns to look at Dean, "I can't choose though. Help me?"

Dean grabs one that looks almost like the same part of the badlands they looked out on yesterday, "This one, so you'll never forget."

"I'll never forget this Dean."

****

(original photos i took on my nintendo dsi during my own south dakota bandlands trip that i still somehow have -- dated august 7, 2011)

#j&kcreatorfest #deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #ficlet #jace is typing...#this is the first long fic i have written in almost 10 years #so please be kind to me #but i do love how it turned out

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

Text

Heavy is the Crown

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: During a case, you learn that Spencer never got to go to a high school dance. And that just doesn't sit right with you, so you decide to fix that.

The case was closed. Several young teenage girls had been kidnapped and murdered. The unsub was a thirty-seven year old male who’d been humiliated at his senior prom, so he saw the young girls as surrogates for the girls who humiliated him at his prom. Before he was able to hurt two more girls, you and the team managed to track him down in time.

You, Spencer, Derek headed towards the SUV after the capture of the unsub. You shook your head in disbelief, “Wow. Prom. Not gonna lie, I didn’t see prom as a big deal, but I went anyway because I didn’t want to miss out.”

Derek smiled with a hum, “My prom is a bit of a blur, honestly. A lot when on that night,” he gives you a knowing look and you and Spencer roll your eyes at him.

Then Spencer spoke up, “I never got to attend prom.”

You stopped him, before getting into the car, “Wait, you’ve never been to prom?”

Your friend and crush, Spencer, shrugged, “Well, I wasn’t very liked in high school. I got bullied a lot so didn’t bother going. No one wanted to go with me.” he hopped into the front seat with Derek in the driver’s seat, and you took the back.

You shook your head, not liking the idea that Spencer’s high school experience was tainted by bullies. Then an idea popped into your head....

___________

Friday morning, Rossi walks into the bullpen gathering everyone’s attention, “Joy, Kai, and Shawn are coming over to visit tonight so I’m inviting everyone else as well. Dress to the nines. It’ll be a formal dinner cooked by Hayden and myself.”

Everyone’s eyes lit up with excitement. Yours especially. You watch as Emily speaks with Spencer and you gather everyone else near you, “Okay. Remember everyone needs to get to Rossi’s a half hour before the designated time. We all know that Spencer likes to be punctual.”

“This is so exciting!” Penelope squeals and you, Tara, JJ, and Luke quiet her down, “Sorry!” She then whispers her previous statement, “This is so exciting!”

You giggle, “Okay, remember, Spencer doesn’t know. And try to act cool guys. He’s a profiler. He’ll know if we’re up to something.”

“Who’s up to something?” you jump when you hear Spencer’s voice behind you. He winces and murmurs out an apology.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. We’re planning on pulling a prank on Hotch. You in?”

He shrugs, “Depends what it is.”

“Well, we’re still fleshing out the ideas, but I’ll let you know.” you pat his shoulder and everyone goes back to their respective desks.

Spencer follows you to yours and leans against your desk as you sit down, “Can I give you a ride to Rossi’s tonight?”

“Sure! You’ll be my DD!” you giggle and he smiles back when he asks, “So, what’re you thinking about wearing tonight?”

“I have this maroon satin gown that I’ve been meaning to wear. Guess I’ll wear that. You?”

“Coat and tie?” he gives a shrug.

“At least add some color, Spence! I know you have some colored ties on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll wear a maroon one so we could match,” he teases.

You scrunch your nose up in playful distaste, “Ew. Matching with you? No way.” you both giggle at the teasing.

_________

When you answer your door, Spencer is taken back. Your hair is done nicely, makeup glamorous, but not too subtle. The maroon satin dress clings to you perfectly, showing off your figure well.

Spencer gulps, “W-Wow. You look-You look beautiful.”

You shy from his compliment, “Thanks, Spencer. You look pretty good yourself.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he says as he smooths down his maroon tie. Looks like he decided to match you after all.

He gulps when you move around your living room, collecting your purse and shawl, locking up your place. There’s a slit on your dress that reveals your leg when you move and he feels himself grow a little hot.

“Ready?” you ask expectantly.

“Yup!” he shoots you a smile and helps you into his car.

You sway to the classical music he plays in his car, completely unaware of the conflict swirling through his mind. Spencer has had feelings for you for a long time, deciding to never say anything to you because he’d rather keep you as a friend than potentially lose you due to his own feelings.

But tonight, he feels like he’s being tested. You’re so beautiful and there’s this elegance to you that you’re exuding tonight. He feels so overwhelmed. Maybe at the end of the night, he might tell you. Just maybe.

___________

When the door to the Rossi residence swings open, Rossi lets out a whistle, “Look at you two kiddos!” Rossi hugs Spencer and he kisses you on both cheeks, “Bella.”

You giggle out a “thank you,” and then go to greet Hayden who’s donning a beautiful navy blue gown.

“Everyone else is already in the back,” she gives you a wink.

You begin heading towards the backyard, Spencer right at your heels. With your shawl wrapped around your shoulders, you step outside and you’re beaming.

Rossi’s backyard as lights everywhere, a photobooth, a table lined with hors d'oeuvres and a punch bowl. Music is playing in the background as the team and their significant others mingle. All the while their children are running around playing with Luke’s dog Roxy.

“Wow. This is nice. Wait-” Spencer then spots a banner that says BAU PROM, “Prom?” he turns to you with confusion in his eyes.

You gave him a shrug, “You said you never got to experience prom, so now you can. And you’ll be surrounded by the people who love and care about you.”

“You did this?” he asks in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, but Derek, Penelope, and Rossi helped.”

“Reid!” Derek emerges from the group and Spencer’s eyes light up. He rushes to his big brother’s arms, getting a strong hug from him.

You giggle as you move to greet Derek as well then moving to the rest of the group. Everyone looks at you in awe, “Woooow.”

“You look beautiful, my maroon goddess!” Penelope swoons, hugging you while also not trying to spill her glass of wine.

“Thank you. For helping out and showing up. This is gonna be so fun!” you jump for joy as your coworkers and friends surround you.

After mingling for about an hour, dinner is served and you all pick your designated tables. You don’t expect Spencer to sit with you, but he does anyway, pulling out your chair for you.

At your table is Derek, Savannah, and Hank. You all make small talk, occasionally pausing to coo at little Hank who’s now two years old.

An hour later, plates are cleared, drinks are flowing, and the music is booming. You dance with various people on the dancefloor while Spencer decides to spend some time with the kiddos. He doesn’t dance and you respect that.

The music is now cut and Penelope has a mic in her hands, “Alright, everyone! It wouldn’t be a prom without a prom king and queen!”

You look at her with confusion and walk up to her, “Pen, we didn’t even vote.”

She gave you a mischievous grin, “We did. You didn’t. And by unanimous vote, our prom royalty is our very own Spencer Reid and Y/N L/N!”

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone bursts into hollers and applause. You laugh as you watch Penelope rush to Spencer and drag him towards you on the dancefloor. Hotch comes around with a plastic crowns for you, placing one on each of your heads.

Everyone applauses again and Penelope announces, “Now, if the prom king and queen would like to make their way to the center of the dancefloor for their royal dance!”

You’re now suddenly nervous. You look to Spencer and give him a small smile, “We don’t have to dance, Spencer. It’s okay.”

“It’s alright,” he slips his hand into yours, “You did all of this for me. I can do this for you.” he tugs at your hand, bringing you to the center of the dancefloor. Everyone circles around you as you bring your hands to rest on Spencer’s shoulders and his hands rest on your hips.

You sway to a cover of Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight”. Spencer is looking at you and you’re looking at him. And the world around you seems to fade away.

“So...we’re BAU Prom royalty,” you state.

“Yeah. Looks like we are.”

“Have an idea what you’re gonna do now that you’re king?” you ask jokingly and Spencer licks his lips and gulp, “There are a lot of things that I want to do and say, but I’m not sure how.”

You hum, “Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.”

“Henry the fourth,” Spencer murmurs.

“Yeah. I remember you said it was one of your favorites.” you look down, unable to handle Spencer’s gaze anymore.

The more you two slow dance together, the closer you guys seem to get. You’re completely unaware of the dancing couples around you or the fact that Penelope is anxiously waiting for something to happen.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” you look up and as soon as you do, Spencer’s lips on yours. You stop swaying as his hands cup your face and your hands move to grip the lapels of his suit jacket.

On the sidelines, everyone is beaming from ear to ear, while Penelope is jumping for joy. JJ and Derek fist bump and Hotch and Rossi are just giving supportive smiles.

When you pull away, you chuckle at the smeared lipstick on Spencer’s lips. You use his handkerchief to wipe away as much as you can while helps you.

You two don’t say anything, but go back to holding each other and swaying to the rest of the song.

This may have been Spencer first and last prom he’ll ever attend, but it was certainly the best one ever.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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ohh i saw your answer about the sequels of star wars. id love to read you tear through the whole trilogy

Well, I’ve avoided this ask long enough. Part of the reason is this is really a huge topic, far too much for one ask, so I’m going to have to do this at a very high level.

In short, the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy is what one gets when you slap together the goal of selling merchandise and making tons of money, being as risk averse as humanly possible, adding a handful of warring directors with incredibly different visions, and having virtually no imagination when it comes to the imagining and writing of characters.

And we get this beautiful, awful, franchise that for reasons beyond me people seem to actually like (though interestingly, no one seems to like all of it, they may actually like one or two of the films, but no one says all three are actually in any realm of good).

With that, let’s begin.

The Force Awakens

For me this is easily the most tolerable of the sequel trilogy: it’s not great, it’s not terrible. It’s thoroughly watchable, you can be taken along for the movie’s journey and not raise your eyebrows too much at the action and leave the theater feeling this maybe wasn’t a complete waste of your time.

There’s a good reason for that. That reason is called the most blatant form of plagiarism I have ever seen in cinema in my life.

“The Force Awakens” is just “A New Hope” wearing a mustache. Only, it’s one of those cheap mustaches you get from a party store that, if you stare at it too long, just looks like the most false and awful thing you’ve ever seen. The mustache actively makes it worse. “The Force Awakens” is “A New Hope”, but worse.

Seriously, every major character, every major plot point, every major scene I can go directly back to “A New Hope”.

Our story begins when the Resistance, at great cost to our valiant heroes including torture at the hands of the Emperor’s second in command, sends a file out into the wilderness to be received by his people. This file contains plans for the Death Star.

The film then focuses on Luke, er Rey, getting involved in the Resistance, boarding the Death Star, and successfully destroying at the same time even at the lost of a beloved mentor that she just met (trading in Obi-Wan for Han Solo).

Our evil empire is run by an evil emperor who is so evil he sits in a chair, is served by very Moth Tarkin-esque human storm troopers, and has a second in command who revels in the Darth Vader get up (for no other reason that it makes him feel cool but we’ll get into this).

It’s “A New Hope”. Rey is Luke, Han Solo is Obi-Wan, Poe is a kind of Han Solo, Kylo Ren is Vader, Snoke is Palpatine, Hux is Tarkin, BB-8 is R2-D2, etc.

“But that’s not terrible,” you say, “I liked A New Hope?”

First, it is terrible, it gives a very bad sign of where the sequel trilogy is headed and is just lazy writing. It means that those who produced this franchise were so terrified of taking risks, of possibly ending up mocked as the prequels were, that they will deliver exactly what the original trilogy was. And what’s that? Uh, evil empires, scrappy desert kids, AND MORE DEATH STARS!

That brings us to point number two, the world of Star Wars after the events of the original trilogy shouldn’t support such things. And, if it does, my god what a bleak existence this place has turned into.

The First Order being able to rise easily from the Empire’s remains means that Luke accomplished nothing. Anakin sacrificed himself and had his moment of redemption for nothing. There was no happy ending to the Original Trilogy, our heroes failed miserably, and there is no indication that our new band of heroes can possibly succeed in their place. (More on this as the movies progress).

We now are in a galaxy where this new Republic is so pathetic that Leia doesn’t even give it the time of day and builds her own private army to battle the Empire. The First Order is able to not only rebuild a massive army by raiding villages on many different worlds and stealing children and do so successfully for at least ten years but is able to build a Death Star bigger than any we’ve ever seen before.

And the movie tries to convince us these are completely new problems, that Luke Skywalker is a hero (remember this is TFA, not TLJ yet), and that somehow these things just sprung up out of nowhere. BUT YEAH, RESISTANCE, WOO!

As for Rey, she’s like... a worse version of Luke. Her only motivation through the entire series is her trauma at being abandoned by her parents. That’s it, there’s nothing else to her, nothing else she ever wants or feels conflicted by. She struggles with the dark side because... the dark side? Genetics? Unclear? She’s absurdly, ridiculously, powerful in a way that’s acknowledged but never that acknowledged (we’ll get into this) and the movies just fail to sell me on her in any way.

Honestly, an easy fix for me would have just been making Rey a much younger character. I could believe a fourteen-year-old having stayed in the desert, scrounging for scraps, believing her parents are coming back every day now. As a twenty-something year old... It starts getting hard to believe she never left. (Also, this gets the benefit of getting rid of Reylo, which is always a plus for me).

As for Kylo Ren, I legitimately walked out of TFA thinking he was supposed to be comic relief. He’s what happens when someone desperately wants a likable, redeemable, villain and we get... Well, as a reminder his opening scene is one of genocide: he pillages and destroys a town with no regret and brutally tortures a man for information. We’re told he’s like this “because evil evil Snoke” and that may well be but throughout the film (and the series) it becomes clear that Kylo Ren’s main motivation is he deseprately wants to be cool. He wants to be a badass like Vader, he dresses in Vader cosplay (either ignoring or not knowing that Vader only dressed like that because his body was completely destroyed), he has these huge temper tantrums and nobody respects him because he’s a toddler in a Vader suit.

He murders his own father, his parents who (at least in the films themselves) show every willingness to take him back and forgive him what he’s done, so that he can fully embrace his own “evilness”. In other words, he commits patricide to feel cool about himself, then it doesn’t work.

And the movie series really banks on me feeling conflicted about Kylo Ren or at least wanting him to be redeemed. Granted, the wider internet seems to love him, I just can’t.

Oh, before I forget, the other thing I love about Kylo Ren is that the movies insist he’s a) strong in the Force b) is equal to Rey. Rey consistently beats the shit out of him with 0 training. Kylo Ren has been training in the Force for years. Guys, they are not a Dyad, Rey is far far far stronger than he is and for whatever reason the films never want to admit it. Because I guess we like things coming in pairs now.

But yes, “The Force Awakens”, at a distance not great nor terrible, but a rip off of a movie we’ve already seen that left me going “Welp, the next one’s probably The Empire Strikes Back then I guess we’re getting Ewoks”. I was sort of right on that and sort of wrong.

The Last Jedi

So, JJ Abrams clearly had a vision of where he wanted this sequel trilogy to go. He set up these big questions such as what’s up with Finn, who are Rey’s parents and why was she left on this nowhere planet, will Kylo Ren be redeemed and how, who is Snoke, etc.

Now, I’m not saying these aren’t stupid questions. To be frank, they kind of are. Finn being Force Sensitive was the most inconsequential thing I’ve ever heard of, Rey’s parents should not have been used to drive the plot the way it was, as spoken above I’m clearly team gut Kylo Ren, and that Snoke was actually just Palpatine being the world’s largest cockroach is a beautiful but hilarious answer.

That said, what Johnson did was he decided, “You know what, I’m going to take every trope of Star Wars and completely flip it on its head and absolutely doom the sequel to this movie.”

And by god, he did.

We get a weirdly pointless movie in which Poe, SINGLEHANDEDLY, completely obliterates the Resistance. He first obliterates their bombers by failing to follow command, then goes and bitches about how he’s not put in command when he clearly shows no ability to understand how a military works, actively subverts orders which in turn obliterates the entire Resistance fleet until the only survivors can fit on the Millenium Falcon. They have no ships, no weapons, barely any people, and are ultimately doomed doomed doomed.

We have Finn’s weird subplot with a suddenly introduced character Rose in which the pair aid in Poe’s blowing up the resistance (they send sensitive information using the communication equipment of a guy they do not know, who fully admits to being shady and out for his own skin, and are flabergasted when he betrays them).

Rose herself is this weirdly sweet person who seems forced into the plot to a) provide a love triangle for Finn and Rey b) provide this forced sunny outlook that I didn’t really need in the film.

We get Rey never really being trained, going into the Cave of Wonders for a few seconds, falling in love with Kylo Ren over weird Force Skype calls (where I did not need to see him shirtless, thank you film) and being horrifically betrayed when Kylo Ren turns out not to be a great guy. Never saw that coming, Rey.

As for Kylo Ren, well... God, we get Emperor Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, the Emperor. I’m not even that upset about the anticlimactic murder of Snoke (that was kind of funny, especially in the context of Palpatine going, “Bitch, please, you’re in my chair” immediately in the next film) but just Kylo Ren being emperor. And also that the Resistance only escapes at all because he’s so dumb he made their dumb plans seem smart (i.e. concentrates all his firepower on an illusion for ten minutes while Hux goes, “Emperor, sir, we could actually destroy the Resistance right now.”

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t complain about Luke. A lot of people are upset he became a grumpy, miserable, old hermit who sits around waiting for death. Frankly though, in this universe, that’s exactly where he is. He left “Return of the Jedi” thinking he’d saved the world, he’s resurrected the Jedi Order, and all is well. Only a decade later, his students are all murdered by his nephew, the Empire’s back, and he accomplished nothing. He’s an utter failure as a Jedi (though Luke never realizes he knew jack shit about the Jedi Order and was in way over his head but I guess that’s beyond him). Why shouldn’t he go sit on a rock and wait to die?

Now, did he have to drink that blue dinosaur milk? Well, I guess it was funny, gross but funny so... Sure, I guess he did. But I do like that he gave Rey 0 training, they had one meditation session and then he whined about how Obi-Wan was such a stupid asshole. And then Rey ran off to be with her boyfriend, who then told her that her parents were gutter trash (which again, was funny, but I don’t think that was supposed to be funny).

Of the characters introduced in the movie, the only one I really liked was the hacker, and it was for the actor/the beautiful way in which he gracefully exited stage left with zero shame going, “You all knew I was going to betray you!” You beautiful man, you.

Rise of the Skywalker

First, when something is called “Rise of the Skywalker” you know you’re in for a rough time.

But anyways, TLJ was filled with a controversy Disney didn’t want (half their audience hated it, half loved it, but at least they sold those penguin dolls) so they desperately get Abrams back. Only, what he clearly wanted from his series has been shot to hell, and now he’s left with Emperor Kylo Ren, a completely obliterated Resistance, a dead Luke, a love interest he never planned to introduce for Finn, Rey’s parental crisis being solved with trash people, Snoke just suddenly dead, Hux planning revenge, and then some.

And so, Abrams goes the brave and hilarious route of shouting “PRETEND THAT LAST MOVIE NEVER HAPPENED”

We open to a fully functioning Resistance (their bomber fleet is back, their fleet period is back, they have all their fully trained personnel). We have Rey getting the Jedi training she needed this time from Leia, who is now a Jedi, because yay feminism rammed down my throat to make the audience feel better. Rose says “It’s cool guys, I don’t want to join the adventure this film, I’m going to stay here and work on robots” so that she can gracefully exit the entire plot. Kylo Ren is demoted from Emperor in two seconds when we discover that a) Snoke was apparently Palpatine b) for unexplained reasons Palpatine’s alive (and I am now convinced that man will never die). Kylo Ren tells Rey at the first opportunity that he lied about her trash parents AND REALLY SHE’S A PALPATINE! THIS WHOLE TIME, REY! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. I’M SUPER SERIAL THIS TIME, REY.

Basically, in the course of an overly long movie, Abrams desperately shoves in everything he was trying to get out of the series, while sobbing, and sobbing even harder when things like Finn being Force Sensitive or Lando having a secret daughter get caught. I actually agree with the Producers on this, by the way, the Finn trying to tell Rey something scenes were weird and indicative of a love triangle but him being Force Sensitive instead... It says a lot that the movies did not change when it was removed, at all. And Lando was just this strange cameo who was in the film to make us feel nostalgic.

And this isn’t even getting to the ridiculous 24 hour time limit (which made me think there should have been some video game style clock in the corner letting us know when Dawn of the Third Day is coming), Palpatine’s other secret army on a secret Sith planet that can be easily taken down by taking out one navigation tower, Rey’s hilarious struggle with the dark side in which she has a vision of herself in a cape hissing, Kylo Ren’s hilarious redemption in which the movie in the form of Leia and Han Solo says, “Alright, Ben, it’s time to stop being evil” and he says “okay”, the fight with Palpatine in which I’m supposed to believe he dies for reals because... I have no idea why I’m supposed to believe he’s dead. The Reylo, god the Reylo, and Kylo Ren’s tragic, hilarious, death.

And then, of course, the ending where Rey decides she’s a Skywalker now.

I actually did laugh all the way through “Rise of the Skywalker”, you can’t not, I mean it’s a hilariously awful movie. The only thing that might have made it more hilarious was if we actually did get those Ewoks.

TL;DR

They’re all bad movies, if you want more specifics than this, you’re just going to have to ask me questions.

#ask #anon #anti star wars sequels #anti rey #anti kylo ren #anti reylo #ah what beautiful awful movies #i look foward to the characters being shocked and appalled when yet another evil empire arises in five years #i look forward to them being even more shocked when palpatine's still not dead #that man will never die

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