#a baby black hole and his two garbage dads
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⚔️ How ‘bout a li'l training montage? 🏹
(ID: Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby honing his battle skills with various different Copy Abilities, feat. Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Dedede. More detailed descriptions below the cut. END ID.)
Part 1 | Part 2 (here!)
So I keep thinking about how Shadow Kirby is confirmed in canon to be just as powerful and capable as regular Kirby, so long as he can push past his own reluctance and fears. Then I started thinking about the unique color palette he has for the Fighters games, if that could be a sort of visual indicator of him reaching that full potential. Then I started thinking about who was around to teach him these skills, and the differences in their techniques, and how SD’s treatment of SK might be vastly different from DMK, and how that affects the relationship that DMK & SD might have, and how it all ties in to the sociopolitical climate of the Mirror World as a whole, and oh stars dammit am I making another AU again???
On an unrelated note, screw the Mirror World for giving everyone in it just the most annoying color palettes to shade. Grays on grays on grays and sometimes red but mostly grays. I am languishing in render hell and ready to move on to the next one thank you. Too many headcanons - not enough time or hands or energy.
UPDATE 03/01/24: Changed SK's eyes to purple instead of blue, and changed DMK's cape from gray to dark red.
Started 11/7/23, finished 11/16/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/16/23.
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Image descriptions
Top left: SK in Ninja gear, facing left, looking focused and holding out his katana, imitating DMK standing beside him in a similar pose with his own sword.
Top middle: SK in Archer gear, leaping up to fire an arrow from his bow.
Top right: SK in Bomb gear - also sporting his darker swirl coloration from Kirby Fighters - winking and sticking his tongue out as he tosses a bomb towards the viewer.
Middle: SK - in Wrestler gear with KF colors - delivering a strong leaping kick to a wooden training dummy, while DMK & SD observe in the background. SD stands with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled into a sinister, calculating grin. DMK stands at his side, wrapped in his cape with eyes hidden in the shadows of his mask, a pensive ellipsis over his head.
Bottom left: SK facedown on the floor with a cross of bandages on his head, exhausted from training. DMK’s hand awkwardly comes in from off-screen, placing a bottle of Energy Drink beside him.
Bottom right: SK powering up into his KF form, fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a roar, an aura of purple-black flame flickering around him.)
#veins art#veins fanart#fanart#kirby series#kirby#shadow kirby#dark meta knight#shadow dedede#dark metadad#copy abilities#headcanon#AU#kintsugi au#<- (tentatively adding this tag here but not to the first part)#a baby black hole and his two garbage dads#(one more garbage-y than the other in my onion)#I like to think SK gets cheekier when he enters full go-mode#from nervous li'l marshmallow to a hyperball of mischief and chaos in an instant#tho he probably can't sustain it for very long and gets real eepy afterwards#he's not very good at pacing himself#(nor are his mentors good at knowing when he's at his limit - each for very different reasons)#(also veins honey please stop creating AUs when you have a billion unfinished ones already I swear to Nova-)#veinsfullofstars
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When I Was His Wife
“Well I was looking forward to/ staying here forever/ ‘cause you asked me to/ Didn’t think I could do better/ So I settled down/ in this ten cent town/ it’s about to break me.” These are the Best Years of my Life- Pistol Annies
This is the follow up to “When You Fall Apart” Which is one of my favorites that I’ve written.
(there is Sy just carrying the weight of all of my own internal chaos)
A/N thank you for everyone who encouraged me to write this, I adore Sy as a character. He seemed like someone who could pull off the impossible. I made some choices in here that not everyone will agree with. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments an we can discuss it there.
Pairing: Sy and Josephine
Warnings: again all of them. discussion of infidelity, Discussion of child loss, discussion of unprotected sexual intercourse, headbutting, day drinking, self medicating, therapy, swearing fealty on ones hunting knife, discussion of knife play, I’m probably missing something
Everything is going below the cut this time to save anyone who doesn’t like this kind of stuff from unpleasantness.
word count just shy of 7.5K
Thank you to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for letting me bounce ideas off of you, love you sweet girl
tagging: @oddsnendsfanfics @willkatfanfromasia @rocket44 @feralrunaway @littlewrenofrivia @summersong69 @coffeebooksandfandom @klaine-92 @nothingright @cavillsim @watery-lane @above-average-ass-bitch
unbeta’d
I slept for the next two days, Mama only woke me up long enough to drink some water once she started worrying about me. She managed to wrangle my out of my clothes and into one of Daddy’s shirts we got him that she left in the drawer. My phone was dead, but thankfully Mama and I had the same kind so I could charge it today. What fresh hell was going to be waiting for me on my digital leash? I lay there for a while, the murmur of conversation in the other room was comforting. Mama left a fresh glass of water some time recently, it was still chilly with only a little condensation forming around the sides. The ache in my chest was almost unbearable. The hole in my heart was Syverson sized, being sober made the edges of that abyss feel even more raw and pronounced. I don’t know if my liver could handle me drowning my sorrow much more, but I would give anything to not feel it. I need to make this feeling of worthlessness go away.
When I finally decided to rejoin the land of the living, Mama and my brother Teddy were talking at the kitchen table, discussing about if they should come with me to go get my things or if I should call the sheriff’s office to be monitored. I stayed behind the corner long enough to let them finish what they were going on about.
“If I know Jo well enough, she’s going to need someone to keep her from burning the whole house down with him in it tied to a chair,” my brother chuckled. “She’s been taking care of herself for years. You should have seen how she handled one of these girls who came up to us once on Post.
“Jo was loading up the car when this prissy little thing came walking up, she must have thought she was some kind of hot shit. You would have been so proud of her Mama, the girl said to her that she had been sleeping with James during their deployment. All Jo said back to her was ‘You’ve both been back for something like three months, right, have you seen him since?’ Little Miss Hot Shit stuttered and said ‘Well not yet,’ like she had been really holding out that he was going to. ‘He doesn’t have my new phone number.’ Jo just tiled her head to the side. Smiled at her real sweetly and told her, ‘Baby girl, he’s not going to. He knows how to find you. You were just a rental car to him, sweetie bell. Ford Fiestas are fun as hell to ride but let’s be honest, you aren’t going to pick a Fiesta over the Mercedes Benz you have at home. You aren’t the first and you sure as hell won’t be the last, now go on and get out of here before I ruin the rest of your day like you tried to ruin mine.’ One of the other officer’s wives came up to her and said she was amazed that she handled her so well without breaking Miss Prissy Pant’s face. She just said ‘I’m too pretty to go to prison, Kathy.’ And we hoped in the car. You raised one tough lady, Mama.”
“How many times has that happened, Theodore, I need to know.”
“She has only told me about four women meeting her face to face. The two pregnant girls who got knocked up to get out of their deployments, Prissy Pants, and one who thought that James was in love with her. She evidently broke down in tears on the tarmac when Josie jumped into his arms and he swung her around. But she would get letters tucked into the windshield of her car for months whenever he returned from deployment.”
“You two kept this from me for years, why?”
“Jo said that this was her problem, don’t you remember how you handled it when her first boyfriend ran out on her on prom night? She cried to you and Dad, and you just told her that no one is worth weeping over. She’s just been trying to make you proud, Mama. Daddy might have known because I know they had a really nasty fight about a month before he died.”
I walked out after that. Mama’s eyes were red, “Good morning, baby, do you want pancakes? Bacon and eggs? What do you want, Darlin’?”
“Coffee would be a good start.” I rasped. “Can I use your charger?”
“It’s right here. Cream and sugar?”
“Black as my sense of humor, please Mama.” I said, Teddy chuckled again. I reached over and squeezed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I got to look after my little sissy.” He replied using what he called me growing up. “So what are we doing to get over Jimmy?”
“I was thinking tattoos and day drinking?”
“Atta’ girl, Josie. Fuck that douche canoe.”
As soon as my phone was able to turn on, it sat on the counter vibrating for the next five minutes. Six missed calls from James. And seventy text messages. A few from stores I shop at, but the majority were from my husband.
“Ugh, I just don’t feel like dealing with this right now.” I said as my mom put my coffee in front of me.
“Just leave him on read. I doubt he’s hurting for company.” Mama said, in almost a snarl. I looked through a few messages. The last one was from this morning. Sweetheart, I’m worried sick about you, I miss you. Please talk to me?
“Ted, do you want to go with me to Walmart so I can get a couple day’s worth of clothes, I am just not ready to go back and I can’t live in Daddy’s old shirts.”
“Of course, we can get some booze while we are there.”
“Get yourself a bathing suit while you are there, honey, its going to be beautiful today and you can go for a swim.” Mama added.
I texted James back finally as I finished my coffee. I’m sorry I worried you, Sy, I have literally been asleep since I got here. I’m not ready.
I understand. I’m sorry, I should have seen how much I’ve been hurting you. I swear to God, I really do love you. Please, let me know what I can do for you.
Yeah, you should have, James. You should have seen how bad you’ve been treating me. You can drop off the face of the earth, that’s what you can do for me, I think spitefully. Thankfully, Mama washed my yoga pants and tank top. It would have to be alright for now. My brother let me wear one of his extra flannel shirts he kept in the back of his car. An hour later, Ted and I were at the store, picking up chips, dip, and cheap champagne. Mama loved mimosas, so I thought it was the least I could do. I grabbed a couple of sun dresses and a bikini, if I was going to be gone for a few days, I was going to come back home looking refreshed, radiant even, and not like the hot pile of garbage I was feeling like. I made a small detour to the cosmetics department, got myself a couple of face masks, hair dye, and sun screen.
“Really? Dark brown, Josie?”
“That’s as close to my natural color as I can, I’m tired of the blonde highlights. I think after this I might just let it come in. Grays and all. Who ever loves me next is going to have to just deal with me as nature intended.”
“I’m proud of you. Do you think you will leave him for good?” He said, Ted has always been very protective of me.
“Well, I certainly can’t leave him for evil, can I?” Making him laugh. One the way outside there was a truck near the front of the store with a sign that read “Puppies for sale.”
“Teddy, we need to see these puppies.” I gasped. Walking up to the truck bed I saw the sweetest little German Shepard puppies. I reached in and they all started flopping all over the place trying to get pets and love. Maybe a puppy was exactly what my hurting heart needed. We haven’t had a dog since Aika passed away. It was looking like I would never have a baby but maybe this was the kind I needed. Puppy snuggles would definitely make that Syverson shaped hole less painful.
“I’ll buy you a puppy if you divorce James.” Ted said to me, half joking.
“Shit, I can afford the puppy, pay for the divorce.” I jest back. “How much for one of the precious babies?”
“$500 a pup, mom has a pedigree, but daddy was the neighbor’s sneaky bastard.” The woman also petting the puppies said. “Mama is in the front if you want to meet her, daddy is very friendly as well.”
I start laughing uncontrollably. With tears in my eyes, I ask if any of the puppies are girls, and she pulls out a beautiful little one with floppy ears and the biggest smile I had ever seen on a dog. Oh yeah, she was meant for me.
“I’ll take her, do you take checks?” I think I’m ready to start healing.
*****
“Josephine, that son of a bitch you call your husband is here to see you.” Mama shouts from the house. It’s Sunday afternoon now, Teddy and I have exhausted all the snacks and mimosas hours ago and now we were sobering up by the pool. My new baby girl is laying next to my sun chair, chewing on her bone, wearing a pretty pink collar.
“Well, might as well let him out here.” I shout back.
“Are you sure, I can kick his ass to the curb if you want me to, baby.”
“Its okay Mama, I can handle him myself.” Sy walks out in the back yard a couple minutes later. I’m guessing Mama threatened to stick him in a meat grinder.
“I deserved that.” He said, looking thoroughly admonished. “You changed your hair, it looks really good...
“Oh bless your heart, James. That’s not even half of what you deserve.” Ted spoke up before he could finish, not moving his face towards him. He lay there in his swim trunks and dark sunglasses.
“Oh great, all three of you have been drinking. I can tell this is going to go well...” James sighed. “Who is this cutie pie, did your Ma get a new dog?”
“She’s my dog, her name is Stella Rosa.”
“I don’t think anyone asked you to come, Colonel Sanders, what are you doing here?” Ted snapped.
“Hey, I got this, okay? I’m a big girl, please, go in the house. The fuck are you doing here James?” I lift my sun glasses up.
“She’s a very sweet pup. Yeah, you are a good girl for your mama, aren’t you? I came to see you. I want to bring you home, baby, I miss you.” He’s checking out my fresh tan in my new bikini. Subtly, but he does it.
“I’m not ready. I’m not even ready to talk to you. Why would you think that I even want to come home?”
“I don’t know, I asked myself that the entire drive here. I don’t know what I’m even going to do with myself when I go home alone. Pussycat, I can’t begin to think of life without you. I know I fucked up. And I know I can’t take that back. You asked me the other day what I kept that was special just between us. I should have answered you then. All those nights where you fell asleep with your head on my chest, the evenings laying in the back of the truck looking at the stars after driving around trying to find the best nachos in town. And, baby, no matter where we go, yours are always the best. No one else ever got moments like that. You are the only woman I want to slow dance with in the middle of the night.
“You are the only person in the world that I would wait four hours in the freezing cold to get the best brisket in Austin for because you were craving bbq when we were still, you know...” He paused. I don’t think he ever stopped blaming himself for what happened. His knees were never the same after that accident, and usually whenever he stood up from kneeling, they clicked and popped painfully. He leaned a little closer spreading his legs and reached down to pet Stella. She seemed a little leery of him. It is easy to be cynical given the circumstances, but there is something about the way he is talking to me, I haven’t heard him be this earnest in years.
“When was the last time you were with someone other than me?” I can’t bring myself to look at him. I keep my eyes anywhere but on him. My body aches so badly for him to just wrap his arms around me. I miss him.
“When I got held up in Kuwait for two weeks in December...”
“December? You mean when you missed my fucking birthday. Goddammit James...” And the ache is gone. My heart shattered again. He’s going to make me cry again.
“Hey, it was after your birthday, and it was a hate fuck because I was mad that I broke yet another promise to you.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” I snap. “How many that deployment?”
“Just the one. And she’s someone who I knew was more discreet because we had that arrangement before.”
“I swear on my Daddy’s grave that if you are lying to me right now, I will end you Syverson. You couldn’t have waited a few more days?”
“I had no idea when I was going home. We boarded that fucking plane three times and had to turn back because there was a problem with it. I was two seconds away from tearing apart the first Private that so much as looked at me sideways. It felt like, at the time, the less terrible choice.”
“They sound both pretty shitty to me. You are a fucking adult James, you have to be able to control yourself or at least be responsible for your actions. If this is what you think love is, I would rather you hate me.” I stand up. Stella wags her tail excited to get away.
“Josephine, please...” He grasps my wrist, not hard, but there wasn’t anyway I was going to be able to get out of his big hand.
“Please what? Please stay so you can keep treating me like this. There are some people in this world who have no problem playing second or third fiddle, they are just thankful they are in the band. But I deserve to be your first chair, or I don’t want to play at all.”
“Mama wants to know if the jackass is staying for dinner.” Ted shouts at us.
“He going!” “I’m staying!” we yell over each other. He’s not looking at me, he’s not even looking at the pup. His eyes are somewhere else, mentally for a second he is somewhere else also.
“Baby… I… You have always been my first chair. There is no one else on earth like you. I have never done anything with these women as an act of love. It was always been, and I mean always, just a way to scratch an itch. Every time I was gone, every time things got bad, getting to come home to you was the thing that keep me going, Jo. You have been my safe harbor for the worst parts of my life.”
“James… That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. You aren’t the man I fell for anymore. This isn’t healthy.” He let go of my wrist, and rubs his face. Those beautiful eyes of his have seen so much. For the first time I think he actually looks… broken. Is this the remorse I have been wanting to see? I try not to keep scores, especially when it comes to my loved ones. But for the first time since things went sour, he looks like I hurt him as much as he has hurt me.
Maybe there was love between us once. However there are just two broken hearts for now.
“Come on in the house, I can at least feed you before I send you back.”
“I think I will just go,” he says it quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”
“Don’t be like that, I am still cooking like I’m making dinner for you, so its way too much for the three of us. Come on in, I made carnitas.”
“I’ll be in, I just need a minute.” He refuses to let me see him cry if he’s not waking up screaming, even after all this time. Whenever we could have a healing moment, he pushes me out. I went inside, and started setting the table.
“Are we poisoning his tacos?” Teddy asked me.
“That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today.” Mama interjected.
“No, and don’t start anything. He’s eating dinner with us, don’t either of you make him feel bad. I already did that.” Sy walked in at that moment, those blue eyes of his rimmed with red. He looked defeated. The four of us ate our dinner in silence. There was a time where he would have made some kind of comment about eating me out when we had tacos. He looked at me once during the meal, I think he remembered it too. He offered to clear the plates when were all done and sat in uncomfortable silence. The cockiness I had grown accustomed to over the years was gone.
He carried himself like this when we lost our baby, he can’t take that kind of humility. At least not with me.
“Sy...” I waited until the others were out of the room. “Do you still want me to come home with you?”
“Not if it means all we are going to do is get a divorce. I can’t see you every day knowing that I will never get to be yours again. I let them do a lot of terrible things to me over the years, but that… that I can’t handle.” His voice cracked. “If you want out, I will give you everything you ask for. I won’t fight you. But please, give me a chance to fight for you.”
“I don’t think you are exactly in a position to make that that request.” I lean against the counter across the room from him.
“No, I’m not.” he half smirked, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Look, I’m not saying that this can’t still all explode in our faces. But I miss my best friend and that has always been the best part of us. It will never be the same as it was before, it can’t be. However, if you are willing to work with me, I am willing to see if we there is any salvageable. If nothing else, we both need therapy very badly. We can’t just shrug this off. The second that it goes back to where we were, I’m gone.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.” He sniffs hard, and his breath is broken up, tucking his arms against himself. Usually its in authority, this time hes just trying to hug himself. I gesture him to come over and I hug him. He wraps his arms around then envelopes me. Leaning his head on mine, he whispers “I’ll do whatever you want, my darlin.”
I told my mom that I would be going home, she sighed at me. “Do you think this is the best idea?”
“I don’t know, Mama. I think I just want some closure. I told him if he so much as sneezes out of line that I’m gone. Forever. There will be no more chances.”
“Well, baby, I trust you. You are always welcome back here if you need to get away.”
While I’m packing my stuff into the shopping bags I had, I hear a sudden crack and Sy groans then swears. “yeah, I deserved that too.”
“What the fuck did you just do, Theodore?” I yell coming out. Ted was still holding my husband’s hand, and Sy was holding his face. “Did you… just headbutt him?”
“Yes, I did. My sister my might be willing to move past your mistakes, but I’m not. However, I’ve always been the petty one in the family. Hurt her again, they will have to dig your nuts out of your chest cavity, do we understand each other?”
“Yep, perfectly.” Sy grimaced. There were very few men that he would not retaliate against. Teddy, at 6’5, and years of horse wrangling, was one of them. Sy was build like a brick shit house, but so was my big brother. I thought we were old enough to not resort to violence, I have been wrong before.
My probably, potentially, soon to be ex-husband put mine and Stella’s things in the back bench of his truck. I held her in the crook of my arm as I climbed up in the cab. He gently shut the door for me, I noticed his shiner was going to be pretty gnarly in the morning.
He climbed into the other side as I set little Stella down on the floor. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it was a cheap shot, I’ll be fine. At this point, I don’t want to rock the boat with your brother and Ma. She tore me a new asshole before I got outside today.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t changed your mind, say to hell with me and that I’m not worth the hassle.”
“Josephine, I might not have made the appropriate effort to show you how much you mean to me, but you are worth it.” The Syverson shaped hole in my heart roared. Why couldn’t he have been this way all along?
We talked about the girl at the movies, and how she was one of his new officers. She might have come on to him, but he never engaged with her outside of work related things. He told her several times that he wasn’t interested but she was persistent. I halfway apologized for trying to decapitate him with a tequila bottle. He acknowledged that this was a long time coming. This was the most we had talked about anything deep for months. I don’t know if it was too little and too late though.
The rest of the drive home we made a plan of action. He would move into the office and would stay in there until I invited him back into my bed. We would start couple’s therapy as soon as we could. He would also start seeing a therapist individually. Before we got into town I also told him my final request for our reconciliation. I wanted to see other people. I had been with him since I was nineteen, I have never faltered in my devotion to him. I wanted to see if he was really the one for me.
When I got home, I poured out the rest of my alcohol, save for a bottle of champagne I was saving for our anniversary. He took Stella outside to go potty and came back singing her name “Stella bella, who is a good girl? Your Mama picks good puppies, yes she does. Good girl, Stella bella.”
Stella came prancing back to me with her tail wagging happily. He walked up behind me, and grazes the backs of my arms gently with his knuckles, leaning down to kiss my neck. “Not yet, Sy. I don’t want us to complicate things more than they already are.”
“Josie, what do you mean?”
“I don’t want to have sex with you until we start therapy.”
“So you want us to stop having sex, sleep in separate rooms and at some point you want to start seeing other men.” He starts nodding. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. “Okay, it that’s what you want to do. I was thinking about getting my stuff out of the bedroom so I can try to get some sleep. I love you, Pussycat. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, James went to bed. He was snoring on the couch in the office by the time I went to go lay down.
****
It took us three weeks to get into see a couples therapist. It felt a little validating about my decision that we shouldn’t sleep together until we have really decided to try or not. She had me stay behind and talk with her for another half an hour the first time we met. She asked me why I wanted to save my marriage with Sy if he’s hurt me for years.
“I don’t rightly know,” I told her. “Maybe its because when we are good we are so damn good. Before we were married, I was warned, I knew that things happened overseas and I shouldn’t take it personally, he’s just a man and not a saint. I never have had a doubt in my mind about if he’s been faithful when he’s been here until recently when a woman he knows started acting weird around me. The love we had was so passionate, like sometimes he thought that if he couldn’t put his hands on me I would disappear. I don’t think I will ever find someone who can love me like that again.”
The therapist suggested that he starts getting treated for PTSD and anger management while we all were working together. I would also have my own separate sessions to work on my own issues. It took a few months but I started seeing small differences in how he was handling things at work that pissed him off. He was able to defuse himself more easily. He became more open with his feelings. I think it helped that we both stopped drinking. We could be a little volatile when we had a pitcher (or three) of margaritas.
There were days with our sessions where we leave emotionally exhausted and not speak to each other the rest of the day, some of them ended in peals of laughter, others where I would cry for most of it. We discussed the infidelity at great lengths. I don’t want to rehash the details but it was definitely one of the bad days. But it seems that the root cause was him using the only the other women for comfort after fairly traumatic events. It’s why it only happened on deployments. He needed to feel something other than pain.
The lack sexual intimacy between the two of us made James start to get creative to initiate closeness between the two of us. He started helping me make dinner on the weekends, or he would bring me my coffee in the morning the way I like it. Mama and Teddy started coming over occasionally for suppers. It was nice to have the house filled with laughter. We started talking again like when we first started dating. He would take the time to go with me grocery shopping.
He started asking me out on dates again. Myself, him and Stella would drive out to the country, with a picnic basket that he would even prepare himself and we would go star gazing like we used to. I loved seeing the effort, but that hole still ached in my chest the whole time. The pieces should have all fit together, but here I was still not sure I could commit to him for the rest of my life.
On one of these dates, he asked me what I thought about him retiring. He had been in for almost nineteen years at this point and had far exceeded is expectations for being in the Army as an officer.
“I kind of just want to sell off all our extra shit and buy a really nice Air-stream. We can pull it with my truck. Just travel up and down the continent, I know you always have wanted to see the Northern Lights, we can just go anywhere. Me, you and Stella would visit where ever we could find a parking spot.”
“That sounds nice, Sy.” It came out a little half hearted.
“You don’t sound convinced, sweetheart.” He said, started sounding concerned.
“Hun, I don’t want to have a fight right now, so please just let me get this off my chest.” I sigh. And then I told him about the pain in my chest that I’ve had since my night in jail. That sometimes, like tonight, it was only a dull ache. That other times the edges are still so sharp that it feels like the pain was going to swallow me whole. He sits up, jaw dropped.
“Why haven’t you told me this before? I… Jo… son of a bitch.” He groans. He lays back down, the same defeated tone came back that I hadn’t heard since Mama’s house. “I’m trying my best, Josephine, but I feel like I have one hand tied behind my back… you will never love me again, will you? I can grovel, and beg. I don’t know what else I need to do. I know what I want to do, but it will just hurt you more.”
“What do you want to do, Sy?”
“I want to kiss every part of your skin, remind your body that I worship it. I want to pin you to the wall of our hallway and make love to you. I want to go to sleep with my nose buried in in your hair, and wake up sliding inside of you. I have since you came home. Hell, I always want to do that with you. But that can’t be the only thing that keeps us together.” He looked over at Stella sprawl out.
“I didn’t say this to hurt you, hun. I just wanted to be honest with you.”
“I know, I… just don’t want to cause you more misery. I really thought we were, you know, heading back in the right direction.”
“We have been, and honestly, I think if we threw in the towel now, it would cause more harm than good.” I say as the tears well up in my eyes. For the first time since I was taken away, I straddle his hips. He sits up and I place my hands on either side of his face, then lean in to kiss him. He kisses me back with the same hunger. I missed him. The ache dulled a little until he pulled away.
“Let’s get going, Jo, I want you so fucking bad. I want to take you here and now, I want to make you scream my name and damn anyone who catches us. We need to stop this, the agreement was that we wouldn’t. Fuck I’ve missed how you taste.” He said before stealing one more kiss.
*****
The next week was awkward to say the least, the therapist was pleased about the kissing and that I opened up. She said that it was possible that the pain would go away, but that he and I needed to remember that it was like I was grieving. In the mean time, we should continue to take it slowly because we both needed to be sure. The following few days he was distant, and the ache returned in full force.
With his PTSD treatments, he was having less nightmares. It was the best thing I could ask for. There were still times where he would yell in his sleep but they had become farther and farther apart. It was a night after he had his individual treatment, he had come home talking about how he felt the night of my breakdown. He came home and told me a little bit, how he had never seen me so angry before, thrashing about like a caged animal. He hated himself for pushing me there. That night, in the darkness of the small hours, I woke up from being dead asleep hearing him say my name in a panic. He then repeated sounding more and more scared. “Josie, oh my god, Josie, no. I’m sorry Jo, I didn’t mean to. JoJo!”
I rushed into the office, he was jerking violently in his sleep about on the couch. I turned on the light near his head. When these dreams happen, his eyes were usually opened, it creeps my out every time. I start to gently wake him up, saying his name and touching him as gently as possible. It took a few moments but he came back to me.
“Jo, Jesus fuck, you’re alright?”
“Of course I am, sweetheart, what happened? I’m right here, I’m okay, you are okay, everything is okay.”
“I dreamed we were back in the kitchen, you were under me. Screaming and whipping about. I had to restrain you more then I accidentally broke your neck and you died in my arms. It felt real, baby, I was holding your body and then the sheriff came and that’s when you woke me up. Oh my god. I fucking can’t. I can’t anymore. I need you, Josie. If something happens to you, oh fuck.” I have never seen James sob like this. He pawed at me until I was wrapped in his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck and held his head to mine. His sobs were hard. We sat there until he let it all out.
“Come on, big man, let’s get you into bed. Come with me. I’ll stay with you all night.” He nodded at me and followed me to the bed we used to share. I wrapped him up in our fluffy blankets. He snuggled into me and was asleep in moments. I stayed there in his arms until he woke up. The Syverson shaped hole hurt less that night.
When he woke up he started crying again. He held me and started kissing my face. “Thank god. I thought you coming to me last night was another dream.”
“No baby, I’m here.” He sniffed hard and squeezed me closer to him. We went back to sleep for a few more hours and when we got up for the day he moved his things back into our bedroom. We might not have started other marital acts but we both started sleeping better having the other person in bed. It had been almost six months we started trying to reconcile.
*****
It had been an interesting couple of months while we started the transition for him to retire. Soon it was only a matter of days. The dates had continued, the kissing had continued, but something was keeping me back from being able to say that the next step was what I wanted. Therapy continued, and we would be seeing her for the next few months. Before I left my private session she asked me if I had given myself a deadline. She was concerned that I might keep dragging it out and that would just make both of us miserable. I told her I had an idea and that I planned on pulling the trigger soon.
Sy’s superiors were setting up a retirement ceremony for him, followed by a dinner with the upper chain of command. He wasn’t looking forward to it, Sy just wanted to be out and done. He came home one day while I was watching a show based on a book series I had read when we first were married. The redheaded Scot swore fealty to his wife, offering to pierce his own heart with a dagger if he should ever rebel against her again.
“What’s this you’re watching?” He asked.
“Outlander, it just picked back up again from a season break. It’s pretty damn close to the book.”
“So is this what the ladies like these days, men in kilts offering to off themselves if they fuck up?”
“Women have liked men in kilts since I can remember. Why do you think we go to the Renn Faire every year.” I wink at him. “But yeah, I’m sure that does it for some people.”
“Well shit, Pussycat, it’s the only thing I haven’t done.” Sy walked out of the room and came back with his favorite hunting knife. It had been his dad’s once upon a time. The handle was made out of buck horn. In his warn and dusty uniform, he knelt in front of me on the living room floor. His beautiful blue eyes looking into mine, “Well, this isn’t iron, and it definitely isn’t holy. However, I will swear on it either way. Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved, you are my best friend, and I adore you. I will never do anything to make you doubt that love or loyalty again. If I ever do anything that makes you feel like you are less than the beautiful, smart, incredible, sexy creature that you are, you can sink this right in my heart. I will even hold it there for you so all you have to do is press it right in.” He finishes with a tongue click as an exclamation.
“James, you didn’t need to do this. You know I am weird about grand gestures.”
“No, I think I do. I said my vows to you on our wedding rings and I wasn’t able to keep it. But, I will never break this one. If I can earn your love back, I will never do anything to make you regret giving me this chance to be your man.” He still held the knife against his chest with one hand, and placed my hand over his with the other. “So what do you think, baby girl? We still have a long way to go, but I can’t think of anyone else I would rather struggle with.”
“I think you just put yourself in a position that I could just end you now if I wanted to.” I say with my usual sass.
“Yes, you could. I don’t think you will though.” He said smiling, his voice was husky and deep as usual. I love that easy smile of his.
“Is it wrong that I want to get on your lap and make out with you while I hold this against you.” His eyebrow raised. “Maybe more than just make out with you.”
“Oh, don’t you tease me now, sweet thing. I don’t want to start anything you won’t finish.”
“Who said I won’t finish it, Colonel Syverson?” His eyes grew as big as dinner plates.
“Wait, do you mean it?” He choked.
“Yeah, I do mean it.” I laughed. Before I could get up, he had hiked the skirt of the dress I was wearing up to my hips, pulling me to the edge of the sofa, revealing that I had skipped a certain garment that day. “I had an idea for after supper, but if you want we can do this now…. Oh fuck I’ve missed this.”
Before I can even finish my sentence, he was going to town with his tongue on his favorite part of my body. He remembered everything that made me squeal in delight. From the lack of sex on both of our ends, he was able to get me off easily. My body was desperate for his touch. He stopped once my body was trembling, kissing one of my thighs from my apex to my knee. He suddenly grunted and bit down on a tender part. He started panting and kissed the spot he bit.
“I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t want to only last for two or three thrusts. Fuck, I have missed this pretty pussy. You taste so good.” He had a handful of his own cum and looked around for a tissue. Without a word, I grabbed his hand and licked it clean, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. He moaned out and then stood up. He took his shirt off, and lifted me up off the couch. I knew this hurt his back and knees but I wasn’t about to chastise him for wanting to be romantic. He carried me like we were on our honeymoon back to the bedroom. He lay me down as gently as possible then finished stripping himself. I took my dress off leaving myself exposed to him in a way that I haven’t in almost a year. Sy joined me on the bed, open and vulnerable to me. I loved those thick thighs and torso of his, he always eclipsed me.
“Hello ladies, nice to finally see you again.” He purred as he licked and sucked on my nipples. He leaned to one side and massaged my breasts with one of his hands. “Glad to see you that you missed me too.”
Before long, I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. He spread my legs and rubbed himself against my opening. He leaned down and kissed my neck before sliding himself inside of me. I moan his name as he gently started making love to me. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he kissed and nipped at my neck.
Breathlessly, he told me how much he missed my body, how much he loved me, how lucky he was to have me. As his tempo increased, he started to whisper in me ear.
“Josephine, tell me what you are.” I looked at him confused. “You are my wife, I want you to tell me that you are my wife.”
“I’m your wife, James.” I tell him as lovingly as possible.
“Louder, baby.”
“I’m your wife.” I said loud and clearly. The Syverson shaped hole in my chest is gone, finally. Replaced with the warmth of knowing we were going to be able to survive this.
“Even louder, Jo.” I yell it out and he thrusts harder and deeper. “Keep going, beautiful, I want the whole neighborhood to know.”
I screamed it as he started pounding me harder, building his orgasm. As my own starts its crescendo, I screamed his name and arched my back as he pulls my hips down on himself and spilled into me. He lay down beside me, twitching and jerking a little. He kisses all the parts of my skin that is available to his reach.
“I think we should order a pizza for dinner tonight,” He says after a few minutes of catching his breath. “So we can stay in bed and make love again.”
“Or, and hear me out. I put my dress back on, you get dressed and we go out for sushi with your cum dripping down my thighs. What do you think about that?”
“Shit, I missed you being a damn freak like that. Do I we get to have more fun tonight if I say yes?” He chuckles, then kisses my hand, “I still want you to ride me with my knife pointed at me some time tonight.”
“Aren’t you scared I’m going to cut off a nipple or something.”
“You, with a knife? To be honest, cutting off my nipple is the least of my concerns. How do I know if this just isn’t a whole plan to lure me into complacency with sex and sushi, then you just murder me in my sleep.” He rolled onto his back and whined for a second, but got up. He put on a pair of khaki shorts and a black Metallica t-shirt as I got into my dress again.
“God damn woman, you are so fucking sexy.” He tells me as he opens the door on my side of the truck and leans down to kiss me again. As I climb up he give my butt a little tap just like he used to and closes the door for me. The ache I’ve been feeling these long months has subsided. Sitting across the cab from me, holding my hand, he asks if we want to go look at travel trailers this weekend. For the first time in a while, I feel like everything is going to be alright.
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Ok, this morning I opened Tumblr, found your blog, started checking all your rottmnt tagged posts, found your big brother Mikey AU, CRIED FOR ALMOST AN HOUR as I red every post about it, drooled all over your gorgeous art, smiled like a crazy person reading all your Human AU posts, got up with the sun in my chest and more energy than I know what to do with and have been productive since then. I don’t know what to ask (or if you take asks) but I crave more infos about your big brother Mikey AU❤️
WOAH OK this was such an incredibly sweet ask and I’m SO HAPPY that my BBM au could bring you so much joy and ahhhh!!! Just thank you so much, this ask made my night <3
Here’s one of the many little stories I’ve written for the AU that I’ve sent to my friend @zacharandom (thanks for always reading my little emotional blurbs about these kiddos Zach~) Enjoy!
(I haven’t gotten into it yet (I will, it’s a separate ask I’m working on) But Leatherhead is a BIG part of the BBM au. Zach had asked if any of the kiddos had ever been to LH’s place, since LH always stays over at the Hamato’s, and I said yes, but only Donnie, and then this mini fic was born.)
Donnie and Mikey get into a 'fight'. And I say 'fight' because Donnie doesn't really know what else to call it. Because he doesn't pick fights, not really, not with Mikey. He doesn't go looking for them with Mikey like he does with Leo. Leo, who can take the worst of Donnie’s shitty teenage attitude and come out of it alright, wearing the worst of Donnie’s temper and anger like a bulletproof vest. Donnie can afford to hurt Leo cause Leo won't break because of it. He's safe to hurt.
But it's different with Mikey.
Mikey, who's so tired he can barely stand straight most days. Who has bags under his eyes like dark stickers, that not even doe-eyed and ever adoring Raph can peel away. And Donnie KNOWS better than to pick a fight with Mikey about it, it was mostly why he was trying to avoid the conversation altogether. Why he had hidden all the school letters and hacked into Mikey's phone to block all the emails and texts and phone calls from the school about it. He didn't expect Mikey to run into one of his teachers after work and basically blow everything Donnies worked so hard to avoid.
He didn't want to skip a few grades. He didn't care what his teachers or his GPA said. He didn't CARE if they thought he was ‘wasting his potential’. He wasn't, and they had no right to complain about it to his big brother like they did. Donnie had TOLD Mikey that he didn't want to. Had gone all the extra lengths to take as many of the AP classes the adjacent high school offered, bargained and pleaded and BEGGED them. He’d do whatever it took, but he didn't want to move grades. He didn't want to quit the robotics club. He didn't want to go to school with a bunch of kids older than him and be the butt end of every baby freshmen joke in the book. He didn't want to be separated from Leo. He really, really, really didn't.
And he had explained this all to Mikey. And he knew that Mikey KNEW this. But the teachers wouldn't stop hounding him, and Mikey was already so tired anyway, the weight of the world always seemed to be a weighted pressure on his shoulders that looked physical, with the way Mikey’s whole body sagged. Like every move he made was a conscious effort and pain.
Donnie knew this, and he still yelled at Mikey about it anyway. And Mikey didn't yell back, cause Mikey never yelled back at them, but his voice was stern and tired and it just begged Donnie to at least consider talking about it. But Donnie’s 13, and the biggest jerk in the world because he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
And Mikey didn't deserve the one sided shouting match that was all Donnie, he didn't deserve the pointed "I can't believe you would take THEIR side, you NEVER listen to me!" And Mikey DEFINITELY didn't deserve the front door slamming in his face, the last words Donnie said hanging in the air behind him. "I HATE IT HERE!"
It wasn't raining, but there was a misty cold hanging in the November air as Donnie sat at an empty park bench, somewhere in Flushing, feeling like the biggest loser in the world the second he ran away and oh,,, oh God. He ran AWAY. How could he run away? He didn't want to run away! He didn't want to run away from anything, especially if it was away from Mikey.
Mikey, who deserved more than Donnie’s cold shoulder and heated words, but took it anyway, and he didn't even flinch as Donnie practically screamed at him. He just looked tired. More tired than ever. And accepted Donnie’s temper tantrum like he accepted every other bad thing that has ever happened to him. Like he thought he deserved it. And he was sad. Sad in a way that made Donnie want to throw up. Because he was one of the people who were NEVER supposed to hurt Mikey like that. But he did. He did and he ran away like a little kid and he felt so STUPID about it, jumping on the first bus he could and taking it to God knows what neighborhood and now he was sitting alone on some random park bench, the November cold sinking into his skin and thin shirt cause he didn't have the mind to grab a jacket on his way out and GOD what was he doing? He was cold and alone and probably lost and Mikey probably hated him and now-
"Donatello?" Came a voice from behind Donnie, and Donnie whirled around on the park bench because he'd recognize that low and gentle voice anywhere and...
Yup. There he was. Lieven Heather, or Leatherhead as Mikey always affectionately called him, standing tall and curious like. His long black hair pulled into a low bun, his green eyes leaf-like and bright, piercing through the dark park like fireflies, looking at Donnie like he was searching for an answer before he got the chance to ask the question and WOAH was Donnie not the emotional type, but he could have cried when he saw the familiar face.
Actually, he was already crying before, but crying because you’re happy to see someone and crying because you’re a jerk to your big brother are two completely different types of emotions, and Donnie tried to hide it either way by rubbing at his face with the back of his wrist.
LH’s namesake leather jacket is HUGE on Donnie, but the 12 year old takes it without a fight because LH does NOT look like he's willing to negotiate, as he holds a bag of groceries in one hand and holds an umbrella over the both of them in the other, saying that his apartment is just a few blocks away, and it'd be best to get out of the cold.
The tall man doesn't press Donnie for details, doesn't ask why his friend's kid brother is out at 8pm on a school night, all the way on the other side of the city, eyes red with something between tempered anger and grief and skin pale with November cold. Donnie is thankful for it. He doesn't feel like explaining himself quite yet. The second hand hurt from before is still raw in his chest, and even though he knows he's the one at fault, he can't really shake off the sinking black hole feeling in his chest. So the 10-minute walk is mostly silent.
LH lives in a grey bricked building, on the third floor, and his apartment is exactly what Donnie would expect if he really thought hard about it.
It was a simple studio, minimalist and uncluttered, but that seemed more because the place felt untouched rather than because LH was a particularly clean guy. All the electronics on in the kitchen where stainless steel and spotless, Donnie half suspected they were untouched because of the garbage can filled with dollar store Ramen noodle cups and forks in the sink. His grey walls were bare, and he didn't have a TV, but there was a large bookshelf that covered the expanse of one wall, filled to the brim with thick books that looked like they belonged in the reference section of a library. There was a little queen-sized bed shoved in the corner, neatly made, and looked rarely slept in. The only sign of life in the little apartment that felt much too small for the nearly 7-foot man was the little desk that sat beside the bed, which was covered in astrophysics textbooks, notebooks filled with scribbled notes and a few orange study note cards that had Donnie's older brother written (metaphorically) all over them.
Lh motioned to the chair at the desk with a nodded, "you can sit there if you want. I'll make some Valerian tea."
"Valerian tea?"
"Helps with stress."
"I'm not stressed."
"Right, of course not. Still tastes good."
And Donnie doesn't really like tea, he'd much prefer coffee, or one of the energy drinks Leo sneaks him during school lunches because Mikey doesn’t buy them, but he knows better than to ask for that. He knew about LH’s anxiety disorder and underlying PTSD, from a past that Donnie didn't know any details about except from snippets he'd overhear here and there from the hushed late-night conversations LH and Mikey would have when they thought that Leo and Donnie and Raph were asleep, and he knew that caffeine wasn't something LH indulged in often because of it.
The tea tastes fine though. It's hot, and burns his throat a little, but Donnie doesn't care enough to wait for it to cool down to enjoy it. Because it hurts, and Donnie figures he kinda deserves the pain.
It's after a few quiet minutes, Donnie sitting at LH’s desk while LH leans against his kitchen counter, that Donnie reaches for a courage he doesn't usually possess and tells LH everything.
About the extra AP classes, and the nosey teachers, and the way it feels a bit too suffocating trying to be everything everyone wants him to be.
And how it all feels too lonely. He barely remembers his mom. He’s starting to forget dad. Mikey works all the time and Raph goes to a completely different school. If he moves up a few grades, then he loses Leo too. And he just can’t deal with that. He can’t deal with everyone, some way or another, leaving him. And how in some, backward, twisted way, it sometimes feels like people are trying to get rid of him. And he just can’t take it anymore.
Donnie likes LH. He's smart and collective and cool and he's super nice to Mikey and he’s pretty much everything that Donnie wants to be when he grows up. And he's friends with LH. LH gives him pointers on his science projects and he teaches Leo how to punch a bully like its nothing and he's patient and understanding and helpful with Raph's temper and he's a godsend of a friend the Hamato clan didn't know they could afford after April had came into their lives and Donnie LIKES Lh.
But he didn't think they were good enough friends for Donnie to deserve THIS. LH listened to him patiently and quietly. Nodding at the appropriate moments in Donnie’s tearful and half-hysterical rambling about his school and his GPA and how he didn't mean to take it out on Mikey and he didn't mean to run away but GOD he was so sick of everyone looking down on him like a little kid and like HE didn't know what was best for him and didn't have a choice in deciding HIS future.
And he expects LH to get mad at him too, cause he was Mikey’s friend first before Donnie’s, and Donnie YELLED at Mikey, and Donnie WASNT going to sob like a child about it, but his head lowers and there's a stupid stinging in his eyes and he sniffs once or twice anyway when he mutters "God, I'm so stupid. Mikey probably hates me right now and is so mad at me."
And he can hear LH sigh, and put his own cup of tea down, before walking over to where Donnie sat and crouching before his chair.
"That's funny you think that, because when I texted him earlier, he sounded nothing short of scared out of his mind and relieved."
"You texted him???"
"Well yeah, of course. He called me shortly after you ran out, singing the same tune you are about how you're so mad at him and he didn’t mean to fight with you and that you probably hate him. That’s probably the only reason I even saw you, I wouldn't have known to look out for you if he hadn't told me to keep a lookout for you."
And that, woah, Donnie felt a million times worse now because of COURSE, he didn't hate Mikey! Donnie wasn't even MAD at him. He was just being a stupid stubborn teen who took out all his frustrations and insecurities on the last person in the world who deserved it and boy oh boy, this whole thing was so stupid anyway.
“How about he finish our tea, wait for you to get a little bit warmed up first, and then get you back home so that you can tell everything you just told me to your brother. Because I think we both know how much he’d want to hear how you truly felt about this situation.”
And that... that sounded good. Because after his entire mini-rant, it felt like a shadow had been cleared from over Donnie’s heart, and now he wanted nothing more than to go home and hug his big brother for all his worth and apologize about a million and half times. Maybe more. Donnie hadn’t decided yet.
After they had finished their cup of tea, and LH had given Donnie one of his warmer college sweaters to wear before they took the subway back to the Hamato residence, where Mikey stood in front of the building, red-cheeked and shivering from the cold in a giant puff jacket and pajama bottoms, waiting for them.
Donnie didn't even wait, he ran the second he saw the familiar orange jacket that belonged to one of his favorite people on the planet and broke into a breakneck sprint, colliding into his older brother’s chest and waiting arms, and breaking into a choked cough when Mikey’s arms instantly wrapped around him like he always belonged there.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to run away!" Donnie rushed to say because he didn't want a second to go by without Mikey knowing that, but Mikey was already running a gentle hand through his hair and hushing into the crown of his head.
"Shhhh, shhhh it's ok, buddy. I know. I'm just glad you're home."
And Mikey still had bags like bruises under his eyes, and looked on the point of breaking if Donnie hugged him too tightly, but he still smiled at Donnie with all the affection and warmth of the world when they pulled away, and Donnie couldn't fight the urge to spit out, "I don't hate it here! And I don't hate you. Ever! I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry Mikey."
And Mikey replied with a soft smile and an "I know, kiddo. It’s ok." But there was relief like a balloon losing helium in his eyes and shoulders, like he would have believed differently if Donnie hadn't said anything, and Donnie made the promise there and then that he’d do everything in his power to make sure Mikey never thought that way, even for a second, again.
LH hadn't stayed over for the pizza movie night that Mikey offered as a silent ‘thanks for bringing my kid home’, so Mikey and Donnie saw him off at the subway station, and made the few blocks back to their waiting apartment and waiting little brothers with their arms around each other in a side hug. Neither one of them wanting to let each other out of their grasps.
And there had been a promise to talk about it later, because Donnie was feeling a little more up for negotiation even though Mikey swore up and down that he’d back whatever Donnie decided to do 110%, but it could wait till another day, when both of their nerves and hearts weren't so tender and raw with emotion. Tonight, they would just sink into the weathered old couch that was softened by a million quilts, and out on a Mothra vs Godzilla movie, and squeeze themselves between an over-excited Raph, who couldn't stay still and just HAD to act out all the Godzilla fight scenes, and a relaxed Leo, who sprawled his legs over Donnie's lap despite Donnie complaining about it, but Donnie didn't make any effort to push him away because Leo kept keeping a wary and watchful eye on his two older brothers, probably knowing more about both sides than either one of them, and keeping his legs over Donnie was half for familiarity and half to keep him from jumping up and running out again and huh, maybe he wasn’t so relaxed after all. Guess Donnie had more than a million and a half apologies to make. Better round it off to a good 2 million, just to be safe.
Because Donnie couldn't rightly blame him for keeping a careful eye out, but Donnie had learned his lesson. He wasn't running away again. He wasn't running anywhere if it was away from his brothers. Away from the only family he’s ever had.
Because donnie was stubborn and stuck in his ways. And he wasn't going to quit the robotics club, and he wasn't going to skip grades and he wasn't going to leave Leo behind and he wasn't going to be left behind.
Donnie wasn’t going to run away. Because Donnie wasnt going anywhere.
(one of the doodles I did for this particular story)
#my fic#big brother mikey au#bbm au#rottmnt human#rottmnt human au#rottmnt#tmnt#tmnt human#i have like 10 stories already written that i've shown zach about this au#and i'm just waiting for the excuse to post them because I don't want to spam you all#unless asked to#but anyway yeah#donnie's the one one who's ever ran away or has seen lh's place#and it's a tiiiiime
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THE CELESTIAL JUKEBOX, PRESENT TENSE - 250 SONGS
Again, some of this is personal and sentimental, linked to time and place and experience.
50 Cent, “Many Men (Wish Death)”
100 gecs, “800db cloud”
10,000 Maniacs, “Candy Everybody Wants”
Bryan Adams, “Everything I Do”
Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass, “Spanish Flea”
America, “Sister Golden Hair”
Julie Andrews, “My Favorite Things”
Animal Collective, “Brother Sport”
Aphex Twin, “Tha”
Fiona Apple, “Extraordinary Machine”
Louis Armstrong, “What a Wonderful World”
Ash, “Shining Light”
Atlantic Starr, “Always”
Atlas Sound, “Washington School”
Autechre, “Vose In”
The B-52s, “Deadbeat Club”
Bananarama, “Cruel Summer”
The Beatles, “All My Loving”
Beck, “Girl”
Belle & Sebastian, “Seymour Stein”
Benoit & Sergio, “Boy Trouble”
Beyoncé, “Countdown”
Bikini Kill, “Alien She”
Bilal, “West Side Girl”
Bjork, “It’s Oh So Quiet”
Black Dice, “Pigs”
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, “Stop”
The Black-Eyed Peas, “Imma Be”
Blast Off Country Style, “Cutie Pie”
Blondie, “Heart of Glass”
The Bloodhound Gang, “Your Only Friends Are Make-Believe”
The Box Tops, “The Letter”
Brainiac, “I Am A Cracked Machine”
Michelle Branch, “Everywhere”
Laura Branigan, “Gloria”
The Breeders, “Off You”
Danny Brown, “Gremlins”
James Brown, “Get Up I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine”
Jackson Browne, “Somebody’s Baby”
Vanessa Carlton, “A Thousand Miles”
Harry Chapin, “Cat’s in the Cradle”
Tracy Chapman, “Fast Car”
The Carpenters, “Yesterday Once More”
Julian Casablancas and the Voidz, “Human Sadness”
The Chemical Brothers, “Free Yourself”
Chixdiggit!, “My Restaurant”
Cibo Matto, “Sunday, Pt. 1”
Ciara feat. Missy Elliott, “One, Two Step”
Clipse, “Dirty Money”
Jim Croce, “Operator”
Crosby, Stills, and Nash, “You Don’t Have To Cry”
Christopher Cross, “Ride Like the Wind”
Cryptacize, “Mythomania”
Crystal Castles, “Air War”
Culture Club, “Karma Chameleon”
Terrence Trent D’Arby, “Sign Your Name”
Daft Punk, “Around the World”
Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich, “Hold Tight”
Dead Kennedys, “Kill the Poor”
DeBarge, “The Rhythm of the Night”
Deerhoof, “+81”
Deerhunter, “Octet”
Depeche Mode, “Personal Jesus”
Dial, “Helium”
The Diplomats, “Dipset Anthem”
DMX, “Stop Being Greedy”
The Doobie Brothers, “Black Water”
Dr. Dre feat. Snoop Dogg, “Nuthin’ But a G Thang”
The-Dream, “Love King”
Duran Duran, “Hungry Like The Wolf”
Bob Dylan, “Positively 4th Street”
The Eagles, “Lyin’ Eyes”
Eat Skull, “Cooking a Way to be Happy”
Elastica, “Connection”
The Everly Brothers, “All I Have to Do is Dream”
The Ben Folds Five, “The Battle of Who Could Care Less”
Eleanor Friedberger, “Stare at the Sun”
Eminem feat. Dido, “Stan”
Brian Eno, “Cindy Tells Me”
Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)”
Extreme, “More Than Words”
The Fall, “Glam-Racket”
Roberta Flack, “Killing Me Softly With His Song”
Flipper, “Ha Ha Ha”
Dan Fogelberg, “Longer”
The Free Design, “The Proper Ornaments”
Fur, “Devil to the Lamb”
Garbage, “Only Happy When It Rains”
Judy Garland, “Over the Rainbow”
Kevin Gates, “Paper Chasers”
Ghostface Killah, “Shakey Dog”
Freddie Gibbs, “20 Karat Jesus”
Godspeed You! Black Emperor, “The Dead Flag Blues”
Gorillaz feat. De La Soul, “Feel Good Inc.”
Go Sailor, “I’m Still Crying”
Granddaddy, “A.M. 180”
Colleen Green, “I Want to Grow Up”
Green Day, “Basket Case”
Grimes, “REALITi”
Gucci Mane, “Break Ya Self (Brrrussia version)”
Guided By Voices, “Teenage FBI”
Harvey Danger, “Flagpole Sitta”
Helium, “XXX”
Keri Hilson, “Pretty Girl Rock”
Hole, “Malibu”
The Hollies, “All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe”
Michael Jackson, “Rock With You”
Jay-Z, “Hard Knock Life”
Henry Jacobs, “Guitar Lesson”
Jawbreaker, “Fireman”
Jeremih, “Oui”
Jewel, “Standing Still”
Jimmy Eat World, “Sweetness”
Billy Joel, “Uptown Girl”
Scott Joplin, “The Entertainer”
Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin’”
Juelz Santana, “Mixin’ up the Medicine”
R. Kelly feat. T.I. & T-Pain, “I’m a Flirt (Remix)”
Kool and the Gang, “Celebration”
Lana Del Rey, “Off to the Races”
Lagwagon, “May 16”
The Libertines, “Horror Show”
Limp Bizkit, “Re-Arranged”
Lindstrom, “Where You Go I Go Too”
Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam, “Lost in Emotion”
Lit, “My Own Worst Enemy”
The Lonely Island feat. T-Pain, “I’m on a Boat”
Lotus Plaza, “What Grows?”
Lower Dens, “Candy”
Courtney Love, “I’ll Do Anything”
Love As Laughter, “Idol Worship”
M.I.A, “Bamboo Banga”
Madonna, “Hung Up”
Madlib, “Mystic Bounce”
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, “Ramp of Death”
The Mamas and the Papas, “California Dreamin’”
John Mayer, “New Light”
Meek Mill, “Dreams and Nightmares Intro”
Men at Work, “Safety Dance”
George Michael, “Faith”
The Modern Lovers, “I’m Straight”
Modest Mouse, “Heart Cooks Brain”
The Moldy Peaches, “Nothing Came Out”
Chris Montez, “The More I See You”
Alanis Morissette, “Head Over Feet”
Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat, “Lucky”
MXPX, “Party, My House, Be There”
My Bloody Valentine, “You Never Should”
Nas, “The World Is Yours”
Johnny Nash, “I Can See Clearly Now”
Neu!, “Hallogallo”
New Order, “Subculture”
New Pornographers, “The Laws Have Changed”
Wayne Newton, “Danke Schoen”
Harry Nilsson, “Jump into the Fire”
Nine Inch Nails, “Wish”
Nirvana, “About a Girl”
The Notorious B.I.G., “Warning”
Maura O’Connell, “Summerfly”
The Orb, “Little Fluffy Clouds”
Panda Bear, “Mr Noah”
Pavement, “Harness Your Hopes (BBC Evening Session)”
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)”
Liz Phair, “Shane”
Pinhead Gunpowder, “I Am An Elephant”
The Platters, “Only You (And You Alone)”
The Pointer Sisters, “Jump”
Michael Praetorius, “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen”
Elvis Presley, “A Little Less Conversation”
Primal Scream, “Keep Your Dreams”
The Prodigy, “Breathe”
Propaghandi, “Anti-Manifesto”
Brian Protheroe, “Pinball”
Psychic Graveyard, “No”
Public Enemy, “Fight The Power”
Aileen Quinn, “Tomorrow”
Radiohead, “A Wolf at the Door”
Gerry Rafferty, “Right Down the Line”
Bonnie Raitt, “Something to Talk About”
The Ramones, “Chain Saw”
Otis Redding, “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay”
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, “In Motion”
Lou Reed and Metallica, “Junior Dad”
Rihanna feat. Jay-Z, “Umbrella”
Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, “Islands in the Stream”
The Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”
Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram, “Somewhere Out There”
Rosemary Krust, “Private Amber”
Diana Ross, “Theme From Mahogany”
Roxy Music, “More Than This”
A Savage, “Eyeballs”
The Shangri-Las, “Leader of the Pack”
Shanice, “I Love Your Smile”
Ed Sheeran, “Thinking Out Loud”
Sightings, “Yellow”
The Silver Jews, “Blue Arrangements”
Alan Silvestri, “The Back to the Future theme”
Paul Simon, “Kodachrome”
Ashlee Simpson, “Pieces of Me”
Slade, “Cum On Feel the Noize”
The Smashing Pumpkins, “Here’s to the Atom Bomb (New Wave version)”
The Soft Pink Truth, “Do They Owe Us A Living?”
Sonic Youth, “Jams Run Free”
Jordan Sparks and Chris Brown, “No Air”
Spoon, “The Mystery Zone”
Starving Weirdos, “Land Lines”
Stereolab, “Plastic Mile”
The Strokes, “12:51”
Swell Maps, “Let’s Build A Car”
Taylor Swift, “Style”
Stylophonic, “R U Experienced”
Jazmine Sullivan, “Mascara”
Suicidal Tendencies, “Institutionalized”
Taco, “Puttin’ on the Ritz”
James Taylor, “You’ve Got a Friend”
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy”
Throwing Muses, “Not Too Soon”
TLC, “Baby-Baby-Baby”
Tortoise, “Djed”
The Toys, “A Lover’s Concerto”
John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, “Summer Nights”
A Tribe Called Quest, “Can I Kick It?”
UB40, “Red Red Wine”
Joe Walsh, “Life’s Been Good”
Scott Weiland, “Paralysis”
Steely Dan, “Do It Again”
Stiff Little Fingers, “Suspect Device”
Stylophonic, “RU Experienced?”
T.I., “What You Know”
Mary Timony, “Blood Tree”
that dog., “I’m Gonna See You”
The Tymes, “So Much In Love”
Ultimate Painting, “Out in the Cold”
The Unicorns, “Child Star”
The Velvet Underground, “The Gift”
Waka Flocka Flame, “Hard in da Paint”
Ween, “Even If You Don’t”
Weezer, “Endless Bummer”
Kanye West, “Devil in a New Dress (G.O.O.D. Fridays version)”
WHAM!, “Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)”
White Hassle, “Oh, What a Feeling”
Matthew Wilder, “Break My Stride”
Bill Withers, “Lean on Me”
Wolf Eyes, “Human Animal”
Stevie Wonder, “My Cherie Amour”
Wye Oak, “Siamese”
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “Maps”
Yo La Tengo, “My Heart’s Reflection”
Zaimph, “Removing Bits of History”
The Zombies, “Time of the Season”
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Zenith: Chapter 72-75
Chapter 72
We’re in Nor’s POV. She’s moping around in her ruined palace. We find out she ordered the attack on Adhira on a whim after learning Valen was there. Cool.
This entire chapter is about how Nor is doubting herself and how she feels shitty even though this should be a triumph, and Zahn, her boytoy who’s literally described as being “too good” and “too pure” for her, telling that she’s a girlboss. Then they make out and “lust tumbles through her” and the chapter ends on them fucking.
Chapter 73
Last we left her, Andi had angsted herself out of the room after an argument with her dad. She walks the gardens for a bit, thinking about the creation myth of this world. It involves Light Bringers and Night Spirits, and two of them fall in love and from their union a black hole is born, but around it a galaxy forms, and it also creates the Godstars, which are described as “all-knowing beings with the power to give and take, the perfect mixture of darkness and light.”
So with all this wank about light and dark, you bet your ass Andi’s gonna start rambling about how dark and/or light her soul is, which she promptly does.
The creation myth is ... fine? In theory? But something light and something dark falling in love and creating the world is a bit trite, innit? Baby’s first creation myth.
Arcardius was the first planet inhabited by the Ancients hundreds of thousands of years ago, and many believed that the Godstars must have given the settlers this gift to welcome them to their new home. But whatever the reason, Andi was grateful for it. She didn’t want to be in the presence of darkness after everything that had happened. She needed to clear her mind of all that had been clogging it since the beginning of the rescue job.
I think “clogging” is a more apt description than Shinsay realized.
Andi angsts herself to a new place with a floating rock waterfall fountain thing, where Valen is, equipped with his painting gear. We get a description of how hot he is despite having been beaten and starved for two years, because of course.
His brown hair was cropped short and, skinny as he was, it made his strong jaw more pronounced. Everything about his once-soft face was now hard edges. No doubt, with some more meat on his bones, he would be striking.
The boy she remembered from years ago had now become a man.
Damaged as he must be on the inside, at least his physical wounds would heal. The awful things he had experienced at the hands of Xen Ptera would hopefully become a distant memory, as well, and more bearable with time.
The way the “hope he’ll heal emotionally as well, I guess” is tacked on right after “at least he’ll be hot” is wildly hilarious.
Valen asks if he can paint Andi. For some reason he immediately starts putting paint on canvas, because fuck sketching, he’s too fucking good for that. Also what’s the lighting situation like? He’s waxing poetic about the way the light hits Andi’s cheek plates and purple streaks (with red tips that reaches her mid-back), but seemingly doesn’t need any light on his canvas to see what the fuck he’s doing, in the middle of the night? Ok.
Later Valen, with a paint-stained face because Artiste, asks Andi if they can go somewhere else because he needs a break. They go somewhere with a view of the Magical Purple Pinterest Garden, and it’s very breathtaking and shit.
“We’ve been through darkness, Andi,” Valen said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still live in the light.”
He closed his eyes, and Andi was left to ponder how much his words echoed her own thoughts from earlier, about the balance between the light and the dark.
Thank you for pointing out the thematic connection from THREE PAGES AGO IN THE SAME CHAPTER, Shinsay. I couldn’t have figured it out myself if you hadn’t held my hand like the imbecile I am. Seriously, I can’t figure out whether this is supposed to be helpful, or if Shinsay really thought they were geniuses and just had to point it out so we wouldn’t miss how cool and deep their writing is.
Anyway, Valen asks Andi to the obligatory ball portion of the story, saying he’ll have to dance as the future ruler of the planet (???) and he wants to dance with a friend rather than a romantic interest.
A friend.
He said the word as if he really meant it. As if, somehow, despite what they’d been through, the horrors they’d shared, Valen had begun to think of Andi as a friend.
Wow ... When he said friend, he meant friend, as in friend? Amazing. What a shocker.
Also, yeah, they did go through some horrors together. Like that time Dex tossed him down a flight of stairs while Andi was somewhere else. Or that time Valen was tortured for two years and Andi wasn’t.
Truly, a friendship of the ages.
I guess this is supposed to be a misdirect, but given how blatantly unrealistic this is and how easily Andi falls for it, it just makes her look a bit like an idiot, doesn’t it?
Chapter 74
This chapter is just Andi heading back to bed but taking a detour to the library, discovering that Alfie has been destroyed while some servants throw his body in the garbage on the way.
Oh no! Not Alfie, who’s only the most annoying character! Anyone but Alfie!
We get this:
As she turned to leave, a small, shiny object on the floor caught her eye. Quickly, Andi reached down and palmed it while the maid wasn’t looking. She didn’t know much about AIs, but the object in her grasp looked like a memory chip.
[...]
It could be nothing, a useless memento, but her gut told her something different. She’d look into it later.
I-is this supposed to be foreshadowing? You literally already told us what it was, why would Andi’s “gut” be telling her something she already suspects according to her narration?
Henlo? Editors? Anyone? Hello?
Hewwo? Mistew Pwesident?
Chapter 75
Dex has been following Andi around like a whole creep and watches her enter the library. He follows her inside and then we get the obligatory “shitty writer praises the magic of literature” bit.
“The general scoured the galaxy for this collection,” Andi said suddenly.
Dex turned. She stood near him in the dark room, softly lit by a beam of moonlight. The sadness in her eyes could almost be felt, like a tangible thing.
“You said Kalee was a reader,” Dex said. He laughed softly. “I didn’t know she was this much of a reader.”
“She loved exploring,” Andi said. “The general loved keeping her close. And so she turned to books for her adventures.”
“The sadness in her eyes was almost tangible.” There, I fixed it. Now shut the fuck up.
“What is it about memories,” Andi said suddenly, walking back toward him, “that gives them the ability to hurt us so badly?”
Dex shook his head. “The past is powerful. I think you and I both know that.”
She finally looked into his eyes. “I’m tired of letting the past control me, Dextro,” she whispered. “Aren’t you?”
I’m tired of letting this book control me, that’s for sure. What is this fucking dialogue? They keep talking in clichés without really saying anything, wasting our goddamn time instead of having an actual conversation.
Anyway, they finally get everything over with, apologize to each other, then make out but decide that uwu they can’t be together because they’re so hurt and damaged and whatnot. And honestly this wouldn’t be so cringeworthy if we didn’t know it’s all just a fucking ploy to drag out the will-they-won’t they subplot that I’m sure you’re all on the edge of your seats over.
The main reason this doesn’t work is that we don’t really get any sense of why this can’t work out? They just mutually agree, after having a hot makeout sesh, that they’re not meant to be for ... reasons? Even though they’re clearly attracted to each other, have no other attachments, romantic or otherwise, and have forgiven one another. Dex thinks they both “ruined” their future together in their own ways, but we don’t get any explanation for why they can’t just ... try to build a new one. Not even a “the memories hurt too much” or “I can’t afford the mental and emotional effort right now” or “there’s no time for it with the galaxy in chaos” or even a simple “I don’t want to.”
Instead it’s “I know we’re not meant to be because we both screwed the pooch last time we tried” and you’re just there like yes and? What’s stopping you from trying again? Give me a reason. IRL that would’ve been fine, but here it just feels like the authors are trying to convince US that they won’t get together, trust me, I promise, don’t even think about it and let it blow you away when they do.
I think, weirdly enough, the reason this doesn’t work for me is the perspective. Andi has actual valid reasons for rejecting Dex and seems like she’s still conflicted about her feelings for him, which would give her plenty of justification to not jump back into the relationship. But instead, we’re stuck with Dex, who’s been desperate to talk to Andi, be around Andi, who thinks about Andi constantly, but now, when a new beginning is within his reach, he decides without reason to not go for it because what, he feels like it’s not right and assumes it’s mutual? It doesn’t track with his previous behavior, which has been constantly focused on Andi up until this point. His sudden and inexplicable decision to not pursue this anymore goes against his behavior and motivations so far, which is why it strikes me as hollow and manipulative writing.
Had he maybe wanted to offer a new start but then Andi said something or he saw how unsure and hurt she still was and decided against it, then it would’ve made sense. Had we been in Andi’s POV and she just straight up rejected him, it would’ve made sense. But here, we get:
“We can’t... This won’t ever...”
“I know,” he said.
And in his heart, he knew that it was true. Their two worlds were never meant to become one. That even through the forgiveness, even with the unavoidable feelings that echoed between them, they could never share a future. They had already had their chance, long ago. They’d both ruined it in their own ways.
Andi doesn’t even give him a proper reason, he just assumes what she’s saying because apparently he’s been thinking the same thing? His “heart” just tells him it won’t work, when all this time, he’s seemingly done everything in his power to fix what he always knew wasn’t fixable? Huh???
I’m not saying this to say that Dex should’ve pestered Andi, he can very well accept her rejection but still pine for her silently. What I am saying is that this doesn’t track with his previous behavior, and just shows the authors’ hands in this as being a cop-out for the sake of melodrama and to keep the romance subplot going through cheap conflict.
Anyway, Dex asks Andi to the ball and she’s like “lmao too late” and then the chapter ends on this note:
When they parted ways, Dex couldn’t help but feel as if he were seeing Androma Racella for the very last time.
God, I wish that were me.
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Conversation
Meme from "Broad City" quotes
“You said if you were ever going to do same sex experimentation, it was going to be with me.”
"Who would you rather go down on you? Michael Bublé or Janet Jackson?”
“Can Janet Jackson go down on me while Michael Bublé narrates it in song?”
“What’s an Arch de Triumph?”
“It’s when two dudes go down on us, is how I picture it, and they’re butt to butt and then you and I do Oprah hands.”
“I really don’t feel like going into work today.”
"Great, I’ll see you in 30 days then. . . biiiiitch.”
“Maybe your dad should have pulled out.”
“I need someone for the amazing race because my mom just pulled out.”
“I also have business with the bank. I’d like to cash these nickels, and I’ll have them in quarters, please. Thank you so much.”
“I’m a sexual X-Man. I’m Wolverine. I’m Vulvarine!”
"Oh my Lady God, thank you!"
“The vagina is nature’s pocket. It’s natural and responsible.”
“I would take you on my shoulders – like I’d strap you up and be like, ‘Let’s go through helllll.’”
“I’m not sexually aroused, I’m fiscally aroused.”
“That’s literally a one stop pussy shop. I love it!”
“I finally figured out my eyebrows, They’re sisters, not twins.”
“Four R’s, my friend-- Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Rihanna.”
“Statistically we’re headed toward an age where everybody’s going to be, like, caramel and queer.”
“I’m an adult and I’m responsible. Let’s go get some candy.”
“I finally masturbated above the covers without my eyes being closed.”
“I just want to get home and watch my shows.”
"You just pulled a bag of pot out of your vagina."
"Do you ever get hair from your head stuck in your buttcrack in the shower?"
"I'm still not over Amy Winehouse."
"I can't really imagine what it's like for people with blue eyes."
"This isn't a sugar daddy thing. This is just an old established guy paying for his younger friend who he also has sex with kind of thing."
"You're like 12, right?"
"I love me some dumplings. It's like a squirrel clutch with a meatball in it."
"I was so worried I baked a whole cake and then I ate a whole cake."
"In da clerb, we all fam."
"I know you from your ass better than I know your face."
"I respect you respecting me."
"You know what's cool about this party? We're the sexiest girls here."
"I'll pick up your poop. You're worth it."
"This is what living on the edge looks like."
"You got beauty. You got brains. You're a fucking genius. Do you wanna kiss?"
"You look sexy and vivacious and artsy and, like, young-wife material but, like, taut and teasy still. It's a perfect combo."
“Witches aren’t monsters, they’re just women! They’re fucking women who cum and giggle and play in the night. And that’s why everybody wants to set them on fire ‘cause they’re so fucking jealous."
"YAS KWEEN!"
“I AM NOT A MOM!”
"You never know if you never try and if you never try you never know."
“I’m only 27, what am I? A child bride?”
"You have been busting my balls all day over a sahaaaandwich shahooppe?!"
"I don’t watch anything but solo porn because regular porn is like, “Shut up, little girl! Wash my feet!” And she’s like "uhhh don’t tell my dad ok? Because I’m just barely legal. I love shaved pubes and tanned, crispy bellies and taints.” It’s like ugh!"
"I don’t have any money. I’m a wittle baby."
“Buckle up, buttercup”
"Money is a mind control technique that used to quantify the progress of the patriarchy!"
"Nose, vagina, butthole. If God didn’t want us to put our fingers up then then why did She make them perfectly finger sized ?"
"I’ll see you when u wake up, and if you don’t wake up I’ll still see you cause I’m gonna kill myself and meet you in heaven or whatever.”
"If you train your eyes, you can see their religion”
“I know it’s like “pwease Mr. Cwusty old white man, can I pwease keep my ovaries?” Alright bitch you better vote, text me when you do”
“I mean we had been together how long, and I still never saw nipples?”
“OOPS I guess I don’t know my own strength”
“Pillows are nature’s packing peanuts!”
“The student has become the teacher!”
"This is some high class shit."
"It's 2014. Anal is on the menu."
"Where ISN'T the bathroom?"
"I was cyberbullied within an INCH of my life last night"
“I saw your tweets and I wanted to check you out but I also wanted to respect your space”
"I am going to respect your dick later."
“You’re my lil cupcake”
“I once ate a corn on the cob. Including the cob”
"Ugh, who YELLS?"
"GET OFF THE BALLS AND GO!"
"Wanna get, like, a bunch of hot dogs?"
"Did you draw that painting?"
“You have to swipe yaas, you can’t swipe naas.”
“I fucked you in the ASS the first night we did ANYTHING. I think that’s pretty fuckin mature."
"Well aren't you a hot diggity dog and a scalawag to boot?"
"In the club, we are all family. Are you racist?"
“Welcome to Florida, America’s droopy dick”
"This is the men's room. Uh DOIIII!"
“You’re so full of shit I need a plunger."
“Thank you SO much for calling me a star”
"I'm an adult. I should be buying my own pot."
"Coat racks AREN'T for babies!"
"My biggest weakness is that I lose my purse a lot. But my biggest strength is that I always get it back."
"I like to call it jazz becomes it comes out of my horn, and you never know where it's gunna go."
"White people do that dog thing. Black people don't make out with dogs."
"Next thing you know you're pregnant with his sperm and he's sanding down your headboard shirtless."
"We are garbage people living on garbage island!"
"I didn't know you had a veneer and I'm in that mouth on a regular basis."
"I'm not putting weed up inside of me because I'm an adult and I'm responsible."
"I really think you should put your weed in your front hole."
“We’re technically homeless right now.”
"Your ass looks incredible."
"Your ass looks incredible. Your head and body too. But we all know who’s the star of the show here.”
“Who am I? Honey, I have a cyst on my uterus and I need to get fucked until it pops.”
“You want me to FaceTime from the bathroom?”
“Dude, I would follow you into hell, brother!”
“Well, you are funny.”
"Animated movies are where it's at. They're like visual crack."
"All Hollywood media is porn, and all porn is kiddie porn. We live in a rape culture. We just do."
"Who would leave weed in a wall? A weed genius. And she'd leave it there indefinitely in case of emergency."
"Isn't it nuts that pickles were cucumbers? They're the trans people of the vegetable community."
"We are an incredible team and I love you."
"Smart and sexy. She is unreal, this girl."
"I've been overeating this week."
"How DARE you LIE to your WIFE?!"
"Do I or do I not have herpes?"
"Follow your third eye--your clit."
"It's my birthday, I'M KING OF THE WORLD!"
"I mean, the female form---God's hottest creation."
"You have to respect the sanctity of the RSVP."
"Okay, something seems very locked up inside of you."
"You have a way of tainting everything I love."
"I'm gonna be like a successful artist any day now."
"Yeah, I don't wanna rise and grind anymore. I wanna rise and then like lay back down."
"It's like we knew it would happen but we didn't do anything about it."
"ADRENALINE!"
"To be honest, I'm really happy with the way I look."
"WANNA FOOK?"
"Never have I ever read a newspaper."
"This is what living on the edge looks like."
#roleplay meme#roleplay memes#roleplay starters#rp memes#rp meme#rp starters#broad city#my memes#my meme#my starters#okay to reblog#out of shirt#will answer in morning#god I loved this show
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What are your favourite comics anyway?
Oh! Oh! Oh! Okay. Full disclaimer. We’re going for what comics I re-read over and over again. Are these comics...good? Eh. Are they bad? No, I don’t think so. Some were meh to wow! when first released that time has either been kinder or harsher to, but I don’t think I have a series or a run or a title which is I like which is like... hot guilty garbage. Though, of course, feel free to disagree. There are some authors on here which people will not want to touch with a barge pole, and I totally understand and encourage not touching them if you don’t want to.
Having said that, here are my favourite popcorn comics (largely Titans and Batfam because I am... basic):
The Flash (2016) issues 39-45 + Annual #1
Having said that, Flash time first. People think Williamson is a real hit or miss writer and I do agree, but I think this whole arc is one big hit. It’s frantic in its energy, I love Gorilla Grodd as a villain, I love the modern Flashfam trying to help, I love how Wally coming in to help totally turns the tide and the mood. I love how everyone looks at Wally like… this guys is powerful, more powerful than any other speedster… but also noting there’s something very fragile about him. I didn’t include Flash War in this because I’m still waiting for the payoff for that angst regarding Wally, but this arc… mwah. Wallace Rudolph West being vindicated as the greatest Flash (whilst allowing Barry to be flawed and to lead his family)? Yes please. Also I love Carmine’s art. I gather it’s hit and miss for some folk but I love the line work. Also Carlos D’Anda’s issue (come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack draw Dick and Roy again your work has gotten so much cuter this past decade) is a beauty too. Big ol’ eyes.
(Under the cut ‘cause this is LONG)
Batman Dark Victory
One of two Loeb stories for me. And yeah sure Long Halloween is objectively better but…jelly bean
Also, angry traumatised Dick smacking a dying man with a stick. What a legend.
Gates of Gotham
Cass! Damian! Dick!Bats! Tim! A mystery villain! World building for Gotham! Stuff exploding! Batfam banter! Trevor McCarthy art! This bizarre panel of Jim Gordon holding Tim’s hand like he’s checking the time?
It’s one of the last ‘pure’ Batman stories before the reboot – Bat Inc aside – so it’s how I like to read the Batfam’s relationship by the end of that universe. Everyone’s a lot more content, proud Dad Bruce, happy and settled Dick and Damian, Cassandra returning home, Tim chopping off the emo hair… it’s all good.
Grayson (particularly #5)
I know why people can’t stand it. The circumstances leading up to it are bog awful. Opinions on Tom King’s writing has only grown more spliced with time. The (sex) jokes are too on the nose and hit too close to home for many. The cheesecake art is too stilted for some. But! Issue #5 is my favourite single issue story. Ever. You never have thought boxes in this series, because everyone is lying, but you aren’t told when. You never know how genuine Dick is being at any given moment, until it is just him and the baby. I love how single-minded it allows him to be. I love how he flat out lies and manipulates to protect that little girl, whilst also caring for Helena. About how seriously he takes his job of protecting Bruce and his family (and that’s why he’s even doing the stupid spy thing in the first place). And maaaaybe it’s unrealistic that Dick could outlast Midnighter crossing the desert, but screw it. Bruce can be better than metahumans all the time. Let Dick get an issue to be so to. Saving a little girl who is probably going to grow up to be akin to Superwoman. Just because he’s given himself that responsibility. He’s going to double cross twenty groups at the same time and come out clean as a whistle. And he’ll cross a desert with a newborn to do it.
Light of my fricking life.
Infinite Crisis
I…I like that things go boom. John’s is very good for that. Also, the Nightwing and Batman moments howowheheheheheheeeeeeee. Almost wish Bruce had shot Alexander. I wonder what would have happened?
(Brief side note: Graphic Audio’s adaptation of this is great fun. I dropped a bowl of cereal at the part of Superboy Prime versus the Titans. Cassie’s scream when Pantha’s head got punched off was a bit…intense. The No Man’s Land one is very good too if you have cash to burn - the voice actors are the same in both and Nightwing’s voice actor has this lisp and I don’t know man... I love it. He’s now the voice in my head for Dick).
Titans/JLA and The Titans (1999) issues 1-25
The Titans are now known I think for not being a very proactive hero group. Books struggle with balancing team dynamics versus plot, and this one is no exception. I know people don’t want to touch Devin Grayson’s stuff with a barge pole. My justification for this is flimsy I accept that, however, the JLA/Titans comic was the very first comic I read when I was like six or seven. I was rummaging through my brother’s room as a nosy kid does and this was at the top of his pile. Thank god for the little info boxes as each Titan was captured/referenced. I fell in love with Kory, I fell in love with Dick, I fell in love with Donna (oh Donna…) and then I tumbled down a hole and pretended I hadn’t until about six years ago. So that’s nice. So yes, this one is one hundred percent nostalgia based.
But honestly, Linkara did a retrospective on this event comic and series years ago, and his reasons for loving it are the same as mine really, so go watch those if you have like five hours to kill. When Devin leaves the comic remains strong for just a moment then... absolutely plummets off a cliff. So I really wouldn’t bother with the second half of the series but hey. You do you.
Teen Titans/Outsiders: The Insiders
More Geoff John’s explosions. My first comic that got bought for me. My brother walked in to the shop and said: “I need a comic for my sister where Starfire gets a good showing” and the men went… ah yes.
Eleven-year old me was like EXPLOSIONSSSSS but also was intrigued by Kory and Dick’s bedtime convos (perhaps…I was a bit under the age bracket for this book - Kory gets a good showing huh?) but uh. Anyway. Also this is when I was thoroughly enamoured with Roy. This crossover is typical Winnick and John’s angsty angst with overly poetic narration and tropey tropes which, combined with what came before and what was to come for the Outsiders, can make both series such a slog to get through, but in isolation, I think it’s a real fun crossover which gave everyone a bit of time to shine and some real fan-ficcy moments (very self-indulgent, and I love that in a comic).
Teen Titans: Year One
I love Amy Wolfram and I love Karl Kerschel. It’s a good intro to those five characters with cute stories. Does exactly what it says on the tin. Batman is demonstrably a major prick in this, even after de-brainwashing, so it’s obviously going with the ‘Dick is only half as functioning as he is thanks to Roy, Wally, Garth and Donna’, which I can get behind 100% depending on what story they are trying to tell, but it’s just… it’s still sad to read. I just think the art is brilliant at giving each of the five very clear characteristics just from their body language, and you know immediately what each character dynamic is like with another.
Batman Hush
The other Loeb story. Again, it has what I like in a Batman story. A mystery, the family, appearances of villains, flashbacks and brooding, fighting, Jim Lee’s Nightwing being hunky… Ahem. It’s a fun read I think. Also, I really like Loeb’s Bruce? I don’t think people talk about it much. But he’s really chatty in his own head. And he’s witty and dry and funny. I like that! Also, Babs is such a backbone of this story. I adore that. She’s treated well here, I think.
Black Mirror
I flipping love this arc. I love it. I love the two contrasting but deeply disturbing in different manner art styles, I love the mystery, I love Babs role in the story, I love Tim’s little appearances and the banter with Dick, I love the weird villains and the terrifying ones, and how you think one is one of the two only to be revealed to be the other or both. I love Dick’s investigation and how he goes about it differently to Bruce. I love Dick’s relationship with Jim, I love the flipping reference to the vultures and owls seemingly following Dick (a whole reboot before Snyder got to tell that story), I love the monologue about how James thinks Dick is weird and weak for his compassion and love, when really that’s his greatest strength, I love Jim wanting so hard to believe James is trying against Babs’s cynicism, but also does try to get an unbiased opinion of someone who is proven good at reading people (Dick) and does what he needs to when his son is actively harming people, I love that ambiguous ending and the questionable science, I even love the Joker’s one (1) scene with Dick. I love this line,
I love Snyder at his best. When he’s good…mwah. Great.
…And yeah. That’s my story.
#dc#dick grayson#bruce wayne#wally west#koriand'r#roy harper#batfam#the titans#the fab five#I love talking about things I like I'm sorry this is so long!#ask and I'll babble#Anonymous
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Demons - The Rewrite
Chapter 1: The New Girl
T/W: Brief ED reference.
Tag list is open
I moved to the small town of Hawkins just after my school year ended. When the sun never set and the days were hot and humid. My parents divorce had just finalized and I had left with my mom to live closer to her family.
A new start, she said. But, you see, a mother who was torn between being a workaholic and drinking with her friends in one state is still that same mother in any other state. And my father leaving only made her worse. She couldn't stop, couldn't quit moving for more than a second or else she'd flounder. Mom worked in the hospital so she usually wasn't home much but now, she picked up every extra shift she could get her hands on. Working herself to death and going out with the girls all the time was better in her mind than dealing with anything. Better than being around for me. Not that I needed her anyway. It's better like this, easier for me to hide things. Things like parties or skipped meals, things like the red scabs on my skin.
__
It took two minutes to meet Nancy Wheeler and her boyfriend Steve Harrington. Nancy lived just down the road from my new house and as soon as she'd seen moving trucks she was on her way to introduce herself. She was nice enough, friendly and smiling when she came over, nosey though. Steve was the real reason I continued to talk to Nancy. He seemed more genuine and was easier to be around. He also didn't ask questions that I didn't have answers to.
It took two weeks before I met Billy Hargrove, though by then I'd heard plenty of stories. That he had rolled up from California and let chaos rain down on this sleepy town. That his car was loud and he was louder, immediately drawing everyone's attention. That he looked like a god amongst men, all tanned skin and hard muscle, and that his looks had girls leaving their boyfriends to fawn at his feet.
I had been invited to a party by Nancy and Steve. The first party of the summer. Small towns and bored teens meant a lot of parties, but the first and last of the summer were apparently the biggest.
When the three of us pulled up to the party I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my black jeans and tried to keep up with Nancy’s socializing. A blur of names and faces as she paraded me around. After a while I managed to duck away from her and Steve in search of drinks and found Billy leaning against the open door frame leading from the kitchen to the deck and yard.
As soon as he saw me he smirked around the cigarette hanging from his lips, “well I don't think I’ve ever seen you around here before.” He hummed, eyes scanning from my conversed feet all the way up my legs to my chest-wrapped in an over sized canvas jacket- and finally settling on my face, “I think I’d remember a smoke show such as yourself.”
Blushing, I looked quickly down at the toes of my shoes before meeting his gaze, “I just moved here a couple weeks ago, the name's Cat. You are..?”
Billy licked his lips as he stomped out his cigarette and I couldn’t help but do the same scan over his body. Black combat boots led to skin tight blue jeans which led up to an unbuttoned shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off the muscles he was so proud of, and long curly hair framing piercing blue eyes.
“Billy Hargrove.” He had stepped forwards, looking down at me.
“The infamous Billy Hargrove,” I smiled, "I've heard about you."
His tongue shot out, licking his lips as he smirked, "good things I hope."
"Oh no, terrible things. I heard you came to town and stole everyone's girlfriends. Heard you fought a few guys for their girlfriends too."
He laughed, "don't believe everything you hear."
"Oh yeah? You got a different story for me?"
He smiled and took me under his arm, "come on, let’s find you a drink."
--
I sipped on the too strong drink in my hand, "so it's all bullshit?"
He took a swig of his beer and nodded, a playful smirk on his face, "I did give a couple guys black eyes, but they started it. I can't help it if their girls left them."
I swayed, giggling into my cup, "and the girls? Is your bed post whittled down to a toothpick?"
Billy shook his head, golden curls bouncing, "not quite."
"You did sleep around though," I pointed, gulping my drink.
A shrug of his shoulders, "can you blame me? Not much else to do here."
"Yeah," I puffed, "I hear that.."
A brief silence followed, muffled music from the house filling the night around us. Billy pulled a cigarette from his pocket, flicked his lighter and inhaled deeply.
"What brings you to this hick town anyway?"
I sighed, grabbing for his cigarette and bringing it to my lips. Held the smoke in my lungs until it burned and then blew it up into the sky, watching the cloud disappear.
"Parents split. My mom's parents live here so she packed up and took me with her. New beginnings and all that shit."
Billy blew a puff of air out of his nose and raised his beer can, "to being stuck in this shit hole."
I raised my cup and we gulped down the rest of our drinks.
We sat in the darkened corner of the yard for hours, until the music from the house shut off and the moon hung heavy in the now silent sky.
"I guess that means it's time to go home," I mused, "hope I didn't keep you past curfew."
Billy shrugged and stood up, "dad's always an asshole, me climbing through the window doesn't make a difference."
He held out a hand to help me up and led me around the house to the driveway where his Camaro sat waiting.
"I'll take you home," he offered.
I cocked an eyebrow at him, knowing how much I'd watched him drink as we talked.
"Don't worry, I'm fine to take you home...unless your mom's gunna be pissed, then I could sneak you in through my window," he looked at me, a playful smirk on his face.
"Mom won't care," I murmured, swaying lightly on my feet, "if she's even there."
"Sounds like we've both got winners for parents," he huffed, helping me into the passenger seat of his car.
"What about your mom?" I asked when Billy opened his door to slide into the driver's seat.
He froze for a second, fingers tightening on the wheel and clipped, "she's gone."
"Oh, I-I’m sorry, did she..."
He shook his head and turned the key in the engine, "nah, she just left one day. Said she was going to the store...never came back."
"Oh, Billy, I'm sorry."
Billy's shoulders raised with a quick shrug as he shifted the car into drive, "it's fine...Dad found Susan and Max and we moved out here."
"New beginnings," I mumbled.
"Something like that."
We pulled up to my empty house a while later, the only sign someone lived here being my old, crappy green car sitting in the driveway.
"She's not here," I sighed.
"That your car on the cinder block?"
"That's my steaming pile of garbage on the cinder block," I quipped.
He blew a puff of air out of his nose, a smirk pulling at his lips, "what's wrong with it?"
I shrugged, "dunno, it only runs sometimes. Dad was supposed to fix it up for when I got my license...he never got to it."
"I can look at it for you."
"Oh, you don't have to."
Billy smiled, his face soft when he looked at me, "want to. I get to see you again that way."
My cheeks burned, a grin creeping as I opened the car door. I took a deep breath of the cool air and turned back to him.
"Good night, Billy."
--
I was nursing a headache on the couch when I heard the loud rumble of Billy's car pull into the driveway. Groaning, I rolled off the couch and kneeled on the floor for a moment to let the room stop swimming. A knock on the door had me lurching to my feet and going to the door. I leaned a hand against the door, bracing myself for the afternoon light and winced when Billy started pounding on the door.
"Ssh!" I scolded, opening the door a crack.
My glare was returned by a playful smile, "morning, Sleeping Beauty."
I opened the door a bit more, squinting against the bright sun, "why are you here? And so....alive?"
He chuckled, "I'm not a lightweight and I'm here to look at your car, remember?"
I groaned, tipping my head against the doorframe, "right now?"
Billy threw his head back to laugh and pushed the door open to let himself in, "I'll fix you first."
A couple of aspirin later, I followed Billy outside with a large glass of cold water in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. I hid in the shade of the house, Billy's sunglasses on my face and sipped at my water.
"I didn't realize you were such a lightweight," Billy joked, "we didn't drink that much..did you eat before the party?"
"Yeah."
No.
"Must have just had more than I realized," I shrugged, picking at my toast and tossing crumbs to the ground.
Billy peered at me, "you're supposed to eat it."
I laughed nervously and took a small bite, "I can't eat much when I'm hungover, makes me sick."
A half truth.
"Your dad, he a car guy?" Billy asked, turning to look at me from under the hood of my car.
I scoffed, "not at all. He had this thing parked in the garage for years before I got my license. Found it really cheap...he always wanted a son to fix it up with...got stuck with me instead."
His mouth pulled into a tight line, eyes glancing away from me.
I kept rambling, heart pouring from my lips to the pavement below, "mom caught him cheating when I was little...started secretly taking birth control and staying out more and more. He started staying later at work.. eventually they just stopped trying, stopped talking and started yelling if they had to be together. Separated last year and finalized the divorce as soon as they could. Mom's still never around...I think I remind her too much of him."
He stopped tinkering with my car and slammed the hood down, making me jump, "come on, let's get out of here for a bit."
We slid into worn, baby pink leather booths at the diner in town. A sticky, plastic coated menu was slid between us by a baby faced girl as she batted her lashes at Billy. He didn't even look at her, just pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and took a long drag.
"You want anything?"
I shook my head.
"I'll have the grand slam. Two forks. Coffee and water for both of us," he ordered, lazily flicking his cigarette in the ash tray on the table.
"Uh, oh-okay," the waitress stammered, blushing as she hurried away.
"You always treat waitresses like that? And here I thought you weren't as rude as people said," I asked, an eyebrow cocked.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lip and he leaned in to meet my eyes, "she's been trying to get with me since I got here, can't take no for an answer."
He pulled back and blew out a puff of smoke when the waitress returned with our drinks. She set down the cups and scurried away, keeping her eyes down. I reached for the sweetener, ripped open a couple packets and poured them in my mug. Stirred and took a sip only to scrunch my face at the taste.
Billy laughed across the table, and started dumping cream and sugar into his cup, "yeah, coffee's terrible here. Food is greasy and delicious though."
"You could've warned me," I chided, grabbing for more sweetener.
"And miss your face? No way," he finished emptying an ungodly amount of cream and sugar into his coffee, stirred and took a sip.
We quietly sipped at the bitter coffee until a heaping plate was placed down between us along with a couple forks and a bottle of ketchup. Billy dug in right away, mixing an egg into a pile of oil drenched hashbrowns and pouring ketchup on top before taking a large bite. I looked at the plate, mentally calculating the calories in front of him when my stomach growled loudly.
"I knew you were hungry."
I gulped at my water and shook my head, "I'm okay, really."
He pushed the plate towards me when my stomach rumbled again, "try some, you'll feel better."
I huffed, picked up a fork and stabbed one of the sausages on the plate, dipped it into an egg yolk and stared at it for a second before taking a purposeful bite. I savored the bite, letting the grease fill my senses and before I realized it, I'd devoured a small portion of the plate.
"Feel better now, right?" Billy smiled, "told you I'd fix you."
--
Three days. It took three days for Billy Hargrove to weasel his way into my life. Three days of showing up at my house and working under the hood of my car while I sat off to the side in the shade. Three days of mindless drives and loud music, of easy conversations and small touches.
Three days until Billy showed up later, well into the afternoon and forced a tight smile onto his face when I opened the door. He jerked his head towards his car and spun away, leaving me scrambling to put my shoes on and follow him. I slid into the passenger seat and barely got my seatbelt on before Billy took off down the road. He swerved through Hawkins and turned to follow the highway out of town.
“Are you kidnapping me Billy?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood in the car.
Billy flicked his cigarette out his window and turned to me, a light smile on his face, “you’re not scared are you, Baby?”
I smirked, “being taken by an almost stranger into the forest? Not scary at all."
He chuckled and turned up the music, continuing his drive into the forest. When he pulled into a clearing and parked the car I felt my chest tighten with anxiety.
Why did he bring me out here? What does he want?
@charmed-asylum @alias-b
#billy hargrove#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#stranger things fic#billy hargrove fic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington
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Roommate!Jeno
a/n: maybe i should just turn this blog into an nct dream one
okay
letsgetit!
first of all,
story time!
your uni is fucking expensive and it’s more expensive if you live in the grounds
so you being the wise human,
you went to get an apartment near the campus
it was great and all since roommate!jaemin was paying for his stuff
you were both living respectively until he had to leave
the dumbass didnt even bother to tell you
one morning you just woke up and found his note
‘hey bitch! figured you were too much of a rock to wake up but i moved out! the family wants me to go back home and tend the restaurant’
the whole day yesterday, you were working
bc,,, yknow
broke college life
and you just walked in half asleep towards your room and fell asleep
so you didnt really see or notice
but were you freaking out bc your roommate suddenly moved out?
ofc you were freaking out
not only was your roommate gone,
how were you going to find a new one?!
jaemin expected your phone call that afternoon and he endured through all your screaming
‘babe, i’m just going to be gone for a year-or two’
‘oR tWO?!’
‘hun, my dad’s injured and his back can only let him do so much. ma’s working too much and i dont have any siblings to help. i figured i could just hold off college until my parents are ready’
ugh, jaemin is such a family boy
‘but jaems! you couldnt have at least told me that yOu wERe mOvING OuT?! and! rent is due soon! i can’t pay for that myself!’
jaemin couldve easily told you to warn yoy
but he didn’t want to tell you bc he couldnt handle you sad and didnt want to upset you
however, now jaemin really understands how shitty that move was
‘tell you what. i’ll pay for this month and make a few phone calls and i’ll get you set up with a new roommate, deal?’
knowing how much of a social butterfly he was, you agreed
ofc you trusted jaemin but part of you feared that he might pair you up with a freak
but he’s not that mean, is he?
you can definitely see renjun doing that but not jaemin
so there you are,,
sitting on your couch alone
without jaemin, your apartment felt really empty
its been a few days since he moved and you were miserable
jaemin hasn’t even texted you about that potential roommate
just as you were about to call him,,
your doorbell rang
you froze and you looked at the time
it was nearing 11 at night and you don’t remember ordering delivery
see,,
if jaemin was here,
he would answer it for you since you would be too scared to do it
but you mustered up your courage and peeped through the peep hole
the man was dressed in all black with a black mask and a black cap with his hood over it with a black hoodie and black pants
ngl, you were terrified and trembling
he rang it again and you jumped
typing out a quick text to jaemin saying ‘hey bub, if i don’t text you in an hour, that means ive been kidnapped so call the police’
you grabbed a pan from the cupboard and gulped before you opened the door
thinking he would just walk forward and grab you, you closed your eyes and raised your pan over your head and swung
a shriek from in front of you made your eyes snap open and found the guy on the floor with a fetal position
you both just froze for like a phat minute
snapping back to reality, you held the pan in front of you
‘if youre going to kidnap me, i got a pan and im not afraid to hit you with it!’
you tried to sound intimidating but your voice was shaking so much
the guy stood up and he took off his hat and the mask to reveal a blonde haired kid
okay, so you were sHOokETh
damn! this boy is fine!
he gave you a shaky smile and held out his hand
‘hi! i’m lee jeno! you must be y/n? jaemin told me you had an opening for a roommate?’
now you noticed the two duffle bags at the side
the embaressment and the shame settled in slowly and you found yourself burning up
nodding, you motioned him to come in
jeno awkwardly walked in and was amazed at how big the layout was with the low rent
‘yea, its kinda hard to believe that we only pay that much. at first i thought there was a ghost in here and that’s why its so cheap’
you tried to make small conversation but laughed weirdly at jeno’s slightly terrified face
‘no! there really is not ghost here! ive lived here for a year and there hasnt been anything so please dont understand! please be my roommate!’
you begged and jeno thought you were weird
but jaemin was right, you were weirdly adorable in a way
so that’s how you and jeno became apartment buddies!
now onto the good stuff!
so, jeno is a vv clean guy
like he’s the type to just pick up a wrapper in the street and throw it in the garbage
so naturally, he likes to keep the apartment as tidy and neat as possible
but you being a mess you are,
you usually leave a lot of things everywhere
lets just say you have a short memory
‘oh? how did that get there?’
eventually, jeno gets sick of it and he confronts you with it
ofc you understand and you actually try to be better
since jeno is literally the most perfect roommate
maybe even better than jaemin
(but don’t tell him that)
jeno is the type to re-stock the pantry with snacks and the fridge with ice cream
since youre both college students, ramen is practically always available in the house 24/7
he also makes the coffee every morning since he works early and wakes up first
even though he doesn’t like the drink and prefers milk, he still notices how you survive off of coffee
babie likes to pick you up some iced americano while he gets a frappe
you on the other hand,,
you’re very surprised
when you got to bed after showing jeno around,
you messaged jaemin
ofc he was worried af and was blowing up your phone
‘WHAT?!’
‘bitch answer the damn phone!’
‘whatthe fuck is happening?!’
‘i need to know if you’re still alive!’
‘oh fuck i shouldnt have moved out’
smiling softly at how worried he was, you responded to him
‘you hoe, it hasnt been an hour yet so chillax. i’m alive, unfortunately, and i just met my new roommate. again, thanks for the heads-up. youre so bad at those. i literally thought he was a burgular or a kidnapper. but he seems chill and emo. just my type.’
but jeno is F A R from C H I L L
oh my goodness,,
hes a crackhead
theres this sound he makes when he’s confused and you couldnt figure out if its cute or weird or if he’s doing this on purpose or thats just how he is
you and him basically communicate with memes
sometimes, at the weird hours at night, he sends you a dumbass meme
you cant help but snort
also, you promised to take jaemin out to dinner to repay him for the great roommate
‘hes literally one of the best people youll ever meet. it just so happen he needed a place to sleep. now you owe me’
hes a science major while you were a computer major
he basically brings home weird stuff to analyze and it just hella stinks
but hes considerate enough to actually put it outside
whenever he’s focused, he talks to himself or the thing he’s analyzing
‘okay mr. fishy. your scales are really big and its bigger than average’
its so cute
oof also!
jeno doesnt have a job yet he always makes rent on time with extra money to spare
he even sometimes buys you stuff saying, ‘they reminded me of you’
for your birthday, he bought you a pearl necklace that mustve costed thousands
at first, you thought he was a chaebol or smth
which you wouldve been vv jealous of bc youre a struggling college student who works at the coffee shop
but, you were answered when you caught him walking in half-dazed and half-asleep with cuts all over his face
it was like 2 in the morning and you were pulling an all-nighter for some project and wanted to get a glass of water
but here he is, hood up, lip busted, black eye, cheek cut
you shrieked and ushered him to sit on the dining chair
thinking he got mugged or something, you start drilling him questions
‘hun, if you were beat up, we need to call the police! this is illegal!’
but jeno chuckles and brushes the stray hairs out of your face as you tend to his lip
‘pls dont. if you do, ill be broke and i wont have money to pay rent then i cant be your roommate anymore’
cue confused y/n
‘wUT?’
‘if i dont make money, youll kick me out and youll have to find another roommate. i dont want you to go through that hassle again’
ofc you were flattered that even during this situation, hes still thinking about you
‘how is this making money?!’
‘i cant believe youre oblivious to so many things. i thought for sure youve caught on.’
more confusion
‘eXCUse mE, lEE JEno? since when have you started coming home with all these things in your face?’
you were worried that this wasnt the first time this happened
but if you think hard about it, thats why he always wears his mouth masks and he always has his blonde fringe down and sometimes wears sunglasses even though its cloudy outside
‘ohmygod lee jeno are you in a gang?!’
jeno was shocked that you came to that conclusion but laughed at how adorable you were rn
with your wide eyes and mouth open
‘nah, bro. i box. its the only way i can make easy money.’
‘but,,, why did you hide this from me? if you needed money i couldve helped you’
he looked at you skeptically
‘sis, you could barely afford that muffin the other day’
lee jeno now looked different from the jeno you met the first day
What you thought to be an innocent little squish was a fighter at night
‘yah, can-um-you need to take this off’
you mumbled while tugging on his sweatshirt
he nodded and slipped it off
he explained why he came late when he first moved
‘i had a late night match and yknow,, school and all, i barely had enough time to come'
as you dab the wound, you try to make small talk to distract yourself
‘so,, youve been boxing this whole time?’
you asked, trying not to get distracted to the way his tight shirt clung to him, showing his defined body
there were bruises up and down his arms and his knuckles were busted
‘yea. i have been since senior high. gotta make money, yknow?’
‘but jen, you can work in coffee shops or at local bookstores. its not worth seeing you busted up like this’
your lips trembled at the thought of him being beaten up too hard to the point he gets into a coma
jenos eyes widened at your wobbling lips and he softly cupped your face
‘hey, im okay and ill be fine. you dont have to worry about me. i usually win, anyways’
his confidence made you chuckle
‘i trust you, lee jeno. just make sure to make it home to me every night.’
‘i know you do and i will. always.”
ever since then,
youve become his little caretaker
youve informed jaemin of what hes been doing and he knew but didnt want you to judge him immediately
smh, jaemin really sucks at informing people
but jeno tries to help you keep up
he even sends you texts that hes fighting that night and your little ‘fighting!’ always makes him smile
his manager and friend, chenle, noticed that hes starting to smile more
chenle likes boxing and wants to be a part of it but doesnt want to be hurt
so,, what better to be the manager of his friend
‘yah, hyung. what’s got you giggly today?’
jeno pointed to the screen and giggled at the little good luck gif you sent
his eyes turned to crescents and chenle smirked
‘wah, you like her, don’t you?’
at the mention of ‘like’, his smile dropped and he shook his head
‘no. of course not. shes just a friend.’
chenle being chenle,,
he continues to prod
‘okay. so every night, you make it your priority to make sure you’re home by 2 in the morning for your friend’
smh, chenle youre so annoying
but hes so right
ever since you caught him,
hes been making sure he gets home at the same time
he sends you a text that hes on his way and you set your ringtone at a very high volume so you wake up and take care of him
during fights, he makes it his sole mission to make out of this alive and a winner for you
but that never crossed his mind as his feelings for you
he just thought of it as making you not worry for him
but then, he starts to think about your stupid little habits
the way you make this face whenever you dont understand
or when you still leave little post-it notes everywhere with ideas you come up with
he noticed it all and he loves them
‘hOLy ShIT!’
that night was when he realized his feelings for you and he was so dedicated on finishing it that he quickly won and he dashed home with his money
bursting through the door, you looked at him with wide and startled eyes
‘what’s wrong?’
you came running but he scooped you up to a hug
ok you were confused but relieved that he was home and alright
jeno looked at your face and wanted to confess but chickened out at the sight of you
you were so good to him and honestly, he doesnt deserve you
(his thoughts, not mine)
‘i-i’
he stuttered and you motioned him to continue
‘i won!’
he shouted and you congratulated him, even though he literally won all the time
guiding him to the chair, you began to dab his cuts
(dab that bitch)
‘im starting to think that your opponents either really suck or youre like the god of boxing’
he didnt know how to take that but blushed red at the mention of him being a ‘god of boxing’
‘nah, im just good’
you eyed him and smiled
he continued to watch you heal him and inspected your face
heavy eyebags and sunken cheeks, it mustve been a long night
he felt a pang in his chest thinking that you push your stuff away just to help him
‘you dont have to keep doing this for me, yknow’
you halt and look at him seriously
‘i know i dont. but i cant sleep at night thinking youre in pain and alone when i can be there for you’
even though he just realized it, jeno was pretty sure he fell in love with you a long time ago
but if it was possible, he fell in love with you even more
‘thank you’
his soft voice filled the silence and you vowed that you will always be there for him whenever he needs help
a few days later, jeno hasnt been to a fight
sure you were worried at what was going on in his head but partly relieved that you dont have to see him so battered anymore
but this was so un-jeno
just as you were about to talk to him about it, he announces he got a job at the bookstore down the street
‘huh? i thought you didnt want to work’
you question while he looked sheepish
‘i realized that i was starting to become a burden since you take care of me every time. so i thought i should quit and get a regular job. besides, it doesnt hurt as much’
he laughed but you didnt react
‘lee jeno, you gave up boxing and the money,,, for me?’
he nervously looked up at you and you noticed the redness of his cheeks
‘i-well-if you put it that way’
‘listen to me, im flattered and i truly love that you dont want to get beaten up anymore. but i dont want you to quit something you like because of me'
‘but you always take care of me and push your priorities away to clean me up. i dont do anything in return and i dont think its fair!’
he argued and a soft smile crept up your face
‘yah, lee jeno'
your voice became a whisper
‘it doesnt matter to me if you dont do anything in return bc i dont see this as a favor. you are mine to take care of and i will do anything for you, you understand that?’
he looked at you in shock after hearing your response
he also turned red at the mention of him being yours
‘so-but-i dont think-'
he stutters but you place your hands on his arms making him stop
‘all i ask is you to come back home, to come back to me'
by now, yall were blushing
even though it might not sound like it,
but yall just indirectly confessed to each other
yall stared at the ground and jeno looks up, biting his lip
‘hey, y/n, can i make it up to you with some coffee?’
your head darted up and looked at him with wide eyes
‘like-like a date?’
it came out suddenly and you stepped back in surprise, cursing yourself
but jeno chuckled, eyes scrunching cutely
‘it'll be one of many'
lmao i didnt really like this but i made it at 2 in the morning and i kinda like boxer!jeno
#lee jeno#jeno#jeno imagines#lee jeno imagines#boxer!jeno#nct dream jeno#nct dream jeno imagines#lee jeno scenarios#jeno scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#boxer!jeno imagines#roommate!nct dream#roommate!jeno#lee jeno fluff#jeno fluff#nct dream fluff
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About my MC [I found some questions on Twitter and decided to answer them with my MC]
Name: Alex [Originally there name is *Inserts my irl name* and *More stuff about this and that* And yep!] ~Basically Alex is A nickname since others can’t actually say her name correctly sometimes~
Age: 27
Birthday: November 29th
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight ~She likes someone who is nice and cute (looks don’t matter) and funny maybe kinda awkward sometimes but can be sweet at times.
Race: She’s human ~Asian and a quarter German~
Before coming too the Devildorm. She was a detective and a supernatural detective. [Studying supernatural and seeing if there real or not mostly demons or any other creature]
Height: 5’10
Body type: She’s pretty skinny [Not like her older brother who looks like kinda a tall stick figure...]
Alex’s love interest is Mammon. She’s basically obsessed with him. She thinks he’s funny and cute, Kinda nice and kinda awkward just like her sort of but still she loves him a Whole Lot.
Alex was born with a hole in her heart. Two major surgeries when she was a baby and had to go back to the hospital at four and stayed there for a good solid 2 weeks. (True facts I was born with a hole in my heart ;-;) She’s fine now she just can’t push herself so much. Alex has Bi-polar and anxiety along with depression and PTSD. (A little bit of Anorexia and insomnia) Alex overcomes insomnia by just heating up milk and drinking it. She can’t really handle the others but if she really needs too she will talk to someone about it. (Surprisingly she’s getting a bit better slowly)
Alex’s voice is happy and positive (tries to be at least) Its kinda in the middle of high and low. (Normal lol)
Alex does have a tattoo on her right side of her side and it’s a rose tattoo. She wants too get a tattoo on her back but she can’t decide what tattoo to get in her back. She also has a tattle on her right shoulder and it’s a skull
Alex normally just wears T-shirts and shorts or comfy pants when she isn’t going out doing her job or some errands she’s running, If she is going out she wears her normal black jacket. Dark grayish shirt and black shorts with her boots.
Since Alex doesn’t like dresses she wears shirts with her rad uniform and doesn’t pull her sleeves down (she has her sleeves up)
Alex’s parents are divorced so she lives with her dad. Alex’s dad is also a detective he’s very skilled and taught Alex how to be strong and everything. Alex’s dad is very serious but he’s mostly kind, caring and very happy [My old man is basically a weirdo] Alex’s relationship is good! Her mom and her have kinda a awkward relationship. Alex’s older sister used to be best friends when they were younger but not anymore, they don’t talk a lot but they trust each other a lot. Alex’s older brother is the reason why she has PTSD. Her brother is toxic, she tries to stay away from her brother as much as possible because she doesn’t like being yelled at or called names. She’s afraid that maybe he’ll hit her like he did one time.
Alex doesn’t speak a lot of languages she speaks a little bit of Spanish/Mexican (idk I’m sorry don’t punch me ;-;) and a bit of Japanese (very little).
Alex and Lucifer HATE each other so much they want to kill each other at some point. Alex doesn’t like the way he treats his brothers especially. She is also kinda afraid of Lucifer because he reminds her of her older brother but she would never say it.
Mammon and Alex awkward just awkward because there both two awkward idiots that fell in love with each other but hide it (Alex is pretty good at hiding her feelings for someone more than a friend. Not mammon lol. Not unless Alex is just a clueless moron) but they get along oh just so much chaos
Alex and Levi get along so well! They both like anime and would talk about it so much. But Alex doesnt okay video games (she’s so bad...at them...)
Satan and Alex get along pretty well too they both hate Lucifer so much they pull pranks on him but they both like cats (Alex likes a lot of anmikals tbh) and books too!
Asmo and Alex They kinda and kinda not get along. Alex doesn’t like going to parties [unless she feels like it, it would be pretty rare for her to go too a party] and Alex doesn’t like dresses or makeup. Tho she likes cute things (will she admit it? Yes yes she would admit she likes cute things)
Beel and Alex get along pretty well as well. They both eat a lot and love food (mostly deserts and burgers) There both are too nice and innocent (Alex can be innocent sometimes)
Belphie and Alex yeah they get along they like sleeping so they sleep a lot so haha.
Alex gets along pretty well with diavolo and barbatos. She likes cooking so she would bake with barbatos and Luke and treat Luke as if he was her younger sibling or something. Alex and Simeon get along pretty well too they enjoy talking to each other since he would advise her on things too do and what not to do. Alex probably wouldn’t get along with Solomon because he’s a shady wizard that always wants to try out new spells and she’s a victim.
Alex’s hobbies are mostly drawing and learning the brother’s demon forms and powers. What can they do? How do they do it? (She takes notes)
Alex does have a pact with all the bros she mostly summons beel or mammon and Levi. She would summons them because she’s either cornered by some demons or trying to save other people’s lives from a demon who’s being a bad dog >:(
Alex’s favorite place in the Devildorm 👆🏻
What sin fits the most...Er that’s a hard one I think Gluttony and sloth mostly. Mostly gluttony because Alex is mostly always hungry (even if Anorexia isn’t kicking in)
Alex is weird and awkward at first but when she warms up too you she is either still quiet and calm or chaotic as heck. She tries to help others and be a positive person.
Alex has a Chinese dragon dog bracelet given by her dad and she holds onto it mostly. She also wears a star necklace given by Alexis when she met Alexis in her dream.
Alex - Best friends: Levi,Beel,Belphie,Satan,Diavolo,Luke,Simeon
A song that would fit Alex
youtube
What is in Alex’s bag let’s see textbooks,pencils and notebooks. Some snacks and maybe some handcuffs 😌
Alex has blackish brownish hair. Dark grayish shirt. Black jacket. Black shorts and boots (brown boots of course that are long) also her Chinese dog dragon bracket that her dad gave her on her right wrist. Also the star shaped necklace Alexis gave her in her dreams.
Alex’s greatest fear is being judged and hated by everyone and thinking they will betray her and leave her all alone (basically losing everyone she cares about) Also she is afraid of dying
When Alex figured out she was lilith’s descendant she was shocked and Confused.
Does Alex have a pet. Yes she has two dogs in the human world but I’m Devildorm she has mammon and the other demon brothers!
Alex’s grades in Devildorm. She is in the middle in Math Kinda good and kinda not good sometimes she gets A’s and doesn’t get A’s in math. Social studies and science Tho she has A’s. PE she has A’s (somehow...) Music she also has A’s. English language and arts F’s
Alex other friends are zack and Yuki (Yuki is a OC of one of my friends OC irl) (Zack is one of my OCS)
Alex’s favorite food: pasta,noodles,cheesecake,cookies,strawberries,friend shrimp and rice, rice and eggs, and many others
Alex’s Talent is fighting (I’m not actually good at fighting irl) and playing the violin
When Alex is feeling down she rely on Simeon,beel or Levi and Belphie too. Or satan and asmo
Alex’s room is a bit messy, some papers and files here and there on her desk and kinda on the floor. Drinks on her desk as well and in the garbage and snacks too. A computer on her desk with her textbooks and pencils. Notebooks too. She has a shelf for all her books and some plushies on her bed and a stuffed obey me brothers Zack made and gave her.
Alex is a heavy sleeper and sometimes laughs or talks in her sleep. She talks medicine before she goes too sleep (she doesn’t want too end up throwing up blood or feeling sick too her stomach like when she was younger)
Alex’s Devilgram Username: DetectiveCrazy
Alex does have a part time job while doing her “other” human job (detective) Her part-time job is Hell’s Kitchen (cook)
Alex’s friends and family members do know that she goes too the devildorm they do miss her and pretty worries about her.
When leaving the Devildorm because Alex will miss them too much (She literally cries she’s sensitive-) But she did return because of the shady wizard and she’s so happy she gets too see them all again heck she even hugs Lucifer and too everyone else’s surprise Lucifer hugs back.
Alex’s D.D.D is Black and her wallpaper is a chibi photo of mammon on her lock screen then her homsecreen is chibi mammon in the corner of her phone bottom left.
Alex likes praising all the brothers because she thinks it’s cute. She also likes being praised by them as well. (Mostly mammon) Alex doesn’t like criticism and would try to stand up for the person being criticized.
Alex’s goal is to figure out more about Alexis and Lilith. Also marrying mammon!!
Alex does play the violin and kinda play the piano. She is still trying to play the guitar.
Alex doesn’t think positive about herself At All. She thinks she’s ugly or not talented enough. She wants others too think of her as a good person and as a friend and not a enemy, Too not be nervous about telling there problems too her and too trust her.
When Alex was a child she was mostly bullied and had a lot of fake friends. But she mostly cared about her family and her dogs, also the future because she would probably meet good people eventually.
For living in the devildorm forever or staying in the human world forever is a hard decision for Alex
Alex did go to the celestial realm and she thought it was more than beautiful and amazing. She did wish she could meet Michael and talk to him about the brothers and how they were back then (maybe next time!)
The pact marks only appear on Alex’s skin when she is summoning one of the demon brothers. The pact marks only appear on her hand (depending on which demon brother it is) also when summoning one of the demon brothers the pact mark glows into there sin color (example: Pact color - Purple - Belphie)
Oof that’s all- that was a lot of typing but oddly my fingers don’t hurt because of typing that much
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The Karma Circle: Sister Dearest
Welcome, children. Welcome…to the KARMA CIRCLE.
I take you to a simple town with simple people. McKeesport. A quiet town, filled with quiet people, kindly people. Away from the hustle and bustle of the big city of Pittsburgh, Dibbun Membrane lives with his sister and his father, having been at long last freed from his greatest concern: an annoying alien that finally blew himself and his base up, leaving a VERY helpful and playful robot behind for Dib to play with.
And Dib looks upon this new companion as a true comfort, for his father is never, ever around when he needs him, and his sister is beastly and cruel. Dib ¬simply does not have it in him to fight back against her, for she terrifies him to the very core…
Even more so than the haunted house by Emmett's Pond. He passes it by every day on his way back from school...unaware that that which is dead does not lie still. It lies in wait. Seeking what it lost.
…and it will soon strike. For the Piper is about to be paid.
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Throughout the town's history, several fires tore through McKeesport. The greatest of all took place on May 21, 1976. Fire had spread from the town's most enormous department store downtown, fourteen buildings going up in a blaze. Striffler's Funeral Home, Kadar's Clothing Store, Oddo's Hobby Shop, the Coney Grill Restaurant…
And the Emmett Family home. It had been especially tragic…a young, sweet child had run out of her burning family home after the flames had spread, rushing away desperately to get help, for there were only two ways to get to town, one by the road, the other by a small lake that led to another road into town. She'd supposedly been trying to get help, for the first path was alit with flames, and had hoped to cross the lake…only to drown in the middle of the lake instead.
The poor little girl had failed her family, and legend had it that she still cannot rest. At sunset, you'll see the smoke drifting through the trees though it's been a CENTURY since she drowned…and if you're wise, you'll RUN! For that's when her ghost rises from the dark lake in which she'd drowned. She searches and searches for her baby brother, her father, her mother, but will never find them…and you had best take care she doesn't find you.
Dib believed in ghosts, of course. He was twelve years old and had seen more than most his age. He'd seen demons and spirits flying through the skies. He'd seen beings from beyond the stretches of Earth. And his new "little brother" of sorts, his best friend and confidant, was a robot with a head full of garbage, paper clips and-
"Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! I'm gonna buy some bubble gum!" GIR the robot sang out, waving his tiny little robot hands in the air, his cyan eyes glittering as he bounced about the kitchen, Dib smiling a bit as he munched on his "Choco-Flakes" cereal.
There was an article in the paper about someone supposedly seeing the "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake". And, of course, it had the famous rhyme that you were meant to sing as you ran by it, the magic charm. "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake, Come not Night for Mercy's Sake! For when the sun hangs in the sky then we shall safely pass you by".
Gaz probably believed in ghosts too, deep down. But she didn't know nor would she have cared about the haunted lake. Gaz didn't care about much that didn't immediately gratify her, like a Poop Cola or "Piggy Hunter May Cry 5". It was, in a way, amazing that Gaz could be so different from their mother even though the two were almost equal in appearance to their respective parents. Dib had his father's scythe-like hair and pale skin, and both had their mother's amber/gold eyes…but Gazlene, unlike Peggy Membrane, had eyes sharp like a hawk, her arms thin and her expression usually bitter, and when she DID smile, it was a grin like stretched elastic.
She only ever really smiled when Professor Membrane was in the house. Then she'd call Dib by his actual name and would calmly smile over at Dib in a faux-friendly fashion. But once their dad had left, the smile would vanish, she'd punch or hit him somehow for taking a soda she felt belonged to her, or would, occasionally, lock Dib in the cellar for taking what she felt was a slice of HER pizza.
Not that Dib and GIR really minded being in the cellar too much. Because Dib had just decided to move a great deal of his stuff downstairs, including a Papier-mâché version of people's heads, toy soldiers…GIR liked to play with the red ones…and a Tallest Red and Purple series of puppets that GIR had made. GIR especially liked to act out the "what happened when the Tallest decided to check that odd speck in the distance out the window". The "odd speck" turning out to be a tiny black hole. Zim, watching it all from his end, had evidently been mortified. Maybe THAT'S why he hadn't been paying attention to the explosive experiment that finally did him in!
"What the hell is that? That's gotta be the weirdest thing I ever seen in my life!"
"Man what the hell IS that?"
"Say Red, think we oughta check that thing out?"
"I dunno, Pur, why not-AAAAA! AAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAA!" GIR cried out, waving the Red and Purple puppets about in the air as Dib held up the black hole he'd made from Papier-mâché as GIR "tossed" the puppets through it. There came a loud KLOKKA-KLOK and the doorway opened up, Gaz glaring down at them.
"Shut up. You'll make me lose my concentration on Vampire Piggy Hunter X." She snapped, slamming the door shut as Dib glared up at her as she re-locked the cellar door. Good thing he'd snuck down some circus peanuts today.
"I could cut her up into little pieces and feed her to Mr. Tiddles." GIR cheerily offered, Dib frowning a bit.
"For one, Mr. Tiddles has been dead since Gaz sacrificed him to get those gummy bears that feed on human flesh." He sighed. "And TWO, I'd just get sent to prison. Everyone knows I hate her…they'd blame me for sure." He mumbled, taking his glasses off and rubbing some gunk off of the lenses.
"Can'tcha…y'know…just tell your dad she's a meany head, Mary?" GIR asked, scratching his bucket-esque head as Dib shook his head back and forth.
"Dad wouldn't believe me. She always acts reaaaal nice around him and she doesn't leave bruises on me that leave actual marks. Besides, I don't think he WANTS to believe me. He wants to believe his children get on just fine so he can just keep working at the lab." Dib insisted, shaking his head again. "She'll be back in ten minutes. Remember, look SAD." He insisted, GIR taking his lips and turning the smile into a deliberate frown. "Good. If she thinks we're having fun down here, she'll just think of a worse punishment. Probably one that'll hurt."
"Like…goin' down to the lake?" GIR mumbled out, eyes widening slightly in fear.
"Zim told you about it?" Dib asked, raising an eyebrow up in the air…and though GIR was silent…Dib could guess what the answer was.
…
…
…
…then came September, and Professor Membrane had to be called away to a peace conference at the United Nations. Dib, of course, had tried to beg to come with him, but Professor Membrane had just good-naturedly laughed and patted his son on his head, saying Gaz would take good care of him before heading out the door. Gaz had IMMEDIATELY barricaded Dib in his room and he'd been almost without food had he not thought to keep Premium Saltines and peanut butter cups under his bed. Why? So she could eat all the pizza and keep HIM from taking it.
"I'm wise to all your tricks." She told him calmly. "And don't complain. Whiner." She'd added, slamming the door in his face when he'd asked to use the bathroom. Good thing the window could be opened enough.
"I wonder why Memby never notices the rose bushes under your window don't ever bloom." GIR asked as Dib did his business and then closed the window, Dib sighing as he plopped down on the bed and glanced over at the calendar on the wall.
"Oh. Good! Tomorrow's Wednesday!"
Indeed. The next day was Wednesday, and that meant that Gaz was chatting it up with her friend Tak, another Irken alien just like Zim had been who'd been considerably more…calmed down…over the years. With Zim dead, what psychosis she'd had had faded a bit into just occasional coldness and vaguely British snarkiness that always manifested whenever Gaz was compelled to drag Dib along with her to Tak's house down the street to play "Grand Theft Piggy 5: New Pork City" in Co-Op. Tak and Gaz both seemed to be made of the same material…that is, a big block of granite left in the middle of a Minnesota winter.
But hey, GIR and Dib could sneak Reeses Pieces from a small glass cup that Tak kept by the living room cupboard whilst Tak and Gaz played before Tak's big screen TV and they could ignore the nasty comments the two girls would sling their way whilst carjacking little old virtual ladies.
"Honestly, my brother is SUCH a whiner." Gaz muttered. "He keeps insisting I can't take the car. That "I'm too young". I could drive it just fine."
"You ALWAYS walk here?" Tak asked.
Dib paled. Oh crap. Ohhhhhh crap.
For you see, there were two ways to get to school AND to Tak's house, which was right BY the school. One was by the hill, and the other…well…the "shortcut" by the lake. The haunted lake.
"Yeah, it's a long walk up the hill to get to the stupid school-" Gaz mumbled as GIR's mouth hung slightly open, finally processing what Gaz and Tak were about to say, his eyes becoming tiny pinpricks. Oh no. Ohhhhh no!
"Why don't you just take the shortcut through the woods? Y'know, the one that has the lake nearby?" Tak asked.
"Huh?" Gaz blinked, pausing the game and putting the controller down as she scratched the purple hair atop her head, her amber/brown eyes turning to look at GIR and Dib as her tone became quiet and dangerous. "You KNEW about a shortcut?!"
"Everyone in town knows. Lemme guess. You didn't tell her about the shortcut because you're scaaaared of da spooooky ghoooosties!" Tak said, throwing her head back and laughing hysterically, antennae flopping about as GIR clung tightly to Dib, letting out a panicked squeak. "I'm sure your sister will be happy to cure you of such a silly fancy. It's just an urban legend. Supposedly this young girl's family burned to death and SHE drowned in the lake, and should you see smoke rising from the woods, you'd best RUN! It's all so silly." She said, her voice as sweet as honey from a wasp.
"You're a bad, BAD girl! You won't make us go past the lake! Not at sunset!" GIR yelled out.
"A GHOST? Really?! You didn't tell me about this shortcut because some GHOST is supposed to haunt it?!" Gaz snapped. "Gimme a break, like I should be scared of a stupid specter." She muttered, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head back and forth. "While I'm doing IMPORTANT things you're picking your nose, laughing on how you make me walk three miles every day just to get to school! And all cuz of some dumb urban legend! Lemme guess, a headless lumberjack'll pop outta the woods and cut my head off?!"
"I wish." Dib muttered.
Gaz IMMEDIATELY launched the wireless controller she had in her hand at him and it smacked into his forehead, a bloody cut trickling down it as he flopped to the ground, Dib glaring triumphantly up at her as he picked up his dropped-down glasses. "Now I've got a cut, a scar to show Dad when he comes back." He told her.
"Shut up or you'll get worse than that!" Gaz told him sharply, grabbing him and GIR by the wrists, dragging them out of the house, heading for the woods…heading for the lake…
As sun was beginning to set, crimson rays being cast overhead. She continued dragging them along the path, over dead leaves and fallen sticks, a long shadow being cast behind her smallish frame, the setting sun glowing almost as brightly as her hateful eyes, the dark pond slowly coming into sight off in the distance.
"Maybe she's a witch?" GIR whispered to Dib. "You think she's a witch?"
"Shhh!" Dib hissed back. The charm. The magic charm. "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake, Come not Night for Mercy's Sake! For when the sun hangs in the sky-"
"What're you two whispering about?" Gaz snapped out.
"Nothing!" Dib said quickly, gulping a bit as the wind began to wrap itself around him, digging its claws into him.
It was no good. The charm only worked during the DAY, when the sun was up and now the sun had fallen past the gnarled and now-barren trees, the sky looking like it was lit up with burning flames as…as pale wisps of smoke came curling and creeping under the ground, like blind fingers searching…
"The smoke. The SMOKE!" Dib whispered out, eyes widening in horror. "The smoke from the burning house! It was there!
"Are you kidding me?" Gaz groaned, rolling her eyes. "Seriously? Smoke?!" She muttered, dragging them towards the lake, GIR trying to break free in desperation before Gaz tossed him away, shoving her brother towards the lake, sticking his head down towards it, shaking him a bit. "LOOK!" She yelled out. "There's nothing there at all! It's just mist rising off the water!"
She was looking at Dib when she spoke…and did not see what was rising out of the reeds nearby, making it's way towards her as she glared back at GIR, who was gasping in horror at what drew ever-closer. Something dark and wet and tiny, a figure made of rotted-away flesh and water and reeds. Greenish/brown muck clung to the decayed flesh and slightly-cracked bones, a frog stuck in one eye, calmly breathing and staring back from the empty socket. Its eyes were silver like the scales of a fish, it's mouth turning from a slight smile to a furious, baleful glare as it saw Gaz shake Dib again, threatening to drop him in the lake as she yelled at GIR.
"WELL?! You cowards, I can't believe you're scared of some stupid girly ghost, there's nothing-"
The ghost GRABBED her, Dib breaking free and scrambling back as Gaz and the figure went into the lake an instant later, dark water frothing about as the two figures struggled, snarls and screams filling the air, Gaz and the figure sinking down in a boil of bubbles.
"G-g-g-g-g-GHOST!" GIR screamed out, Dib and GIR immediately racing off down the path, heading for home as fast as their legs could carry them, but GIR's leg had been injured when Gaz had thrown him, and there was a KRAKKA-KRKK sound as he fell to the forest floor, letting out a yelp. Dib quickly knelt down by him, trying to help GIR up as they heard the bushes and bramble being pushed aside, the two rooted to the spot in sheer terror, white nests of toadstools around them as they clung together in fear…
And then Gaz burst through the bushes, looking…oddly nice. She'd evidently run so fast her clothes had dried on her body, and her cheeks now had a bit of a blush to them, her hair now falling around her head almost like a halo as she blinked a bit at the sight of the two.
"Are you alright, guys?" She asked.
…GUYS?!
"That was an awful stumble, huh? Oh and look at you, Dib, you're shivering!"
DIB?! Calling him DIB and not "Hey, you"?
"Lemme give you a piggyback ride, GIR." She offered, helping GIR onto her back and cheerily smiling at Dib. "I think there's some pizza left over I can heat up at home, okay?" She asked Dib as she calmly walked off down the path, whistling.
WHISTLING!
"Who are you and what have you done with Gaz?" Dib muttered a bit, walking alongside her, scratching his head in surprise.
…
…
…
…true to her word, Gaz heated up the leftover pizza in the microwave and poured them all some Poop Cola, breaking out the big, fizzy straws from the cupboard, smiling as she watched them eat, staying silent before heading to her own room, Dib and GIR going back up to Dib's room, the two sitting on Dib's bed as Dib nervously chewed on his lip, glancing over at GIR.
"Did…did that just happen?" GIR asked. "She's all…y'know. Cheery."
"Yeah, it's weird." Dib murmured, scratching his head in confusion. "But…you saw it, right? At the lake?"
"Yes. And she fell in, right?" GIR wanted to know. "I don't get it, why…why's she being so nice? It's weird, Mary. Really weird. She's so different!"
"I thought she'd be dead, but…" Dib trailed off. "…I hope dad comes back soon." He finally sighed. "Hopefully things'll be back to normal soon."
And so the two went to sleep, GIR plopping down in the corner underneath a poster of the X-Files whilst Dib laid back in his bed, listening to Gaz walk about downstairs, slowly and uncertainly, as if she'd lost her way.
Within a few days though, it became clear Gaz had changed since falling into the lake, as if all the unpleasantness had been washed right out of her. The house was now bright and cheerful, Gaz now happily sharing her pizza and soda with the two and never raising her voice. She let Dib play with her Game Slave and even Tak didn't seem to mind this new Gaz as much, because this new one was far more cooperative in co-op. She doodled with Dib during the evening, chatted with him as they looked at old corny B-movies on the TV. And above all, she never ever hit them or yelled at them anymore!
Dib and GIR started calling her "Gazzy", and Dib would stargaze with her on the roof of their house at night, looking up silently at the stars, resting one hand atop hers as they contemplated the majesty beyond.
"Dad's gonna be home tomorrow." Dib said one night. "You remember, right?"
"Yes, Matthew."
"It's just "Dad", really."
"Alright. Dad."
"…how long will you be staying?" Dib wanted to know, tilting his head slightly to the side as Gaz rubbed her chin and raised an eyebrow up.
"However long would you want me here?" She wanted to ask. "If…if you wouldn't mind, could…" She began to say before Dib smiled, patting her on the shoulder.
"I want you to stay with us." Dib insisted. "Okay?"
"…I'd like that." She admitted with a smile, wrapping her arms around her brother and hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Dib." She said, a single tear trickling down her cheek and onto the roof below.
…
…
…
… it was about two years before Dib made his way back to Emmett's Lake, going in broad daylight on a sunny Saturday in June, down the winding forest path to the dark lake where tragedy had struck o'er a century ago. The lake was peaceful now, tiny little tadpoles flittering about as butterflies flew overhead. He calmly sat at the end of the lake, on a tree stump as a water boatman skittered across the lake, leaving behind a small silver wake as Dib waited.
Sure enough, a few bubbles began to rise up to disturb the surface of the quiet water, small fish darting away as a scum of mud and filthy rose up slowly from the bottom of the lake, taking the vague shape of someone all-too-familiar who was scowling angrily.
"Dib, gemme out! She took my body that stupid little bitch! Look, if you bring her down here, I'll give you fifty bucks! I'll bring you chocolate every day to your room for breakfast, I'll-I'll wash your feet and never yell at you again, I promise, I-"
"Goodbye, Gaz." Dib firmly remarked, sitting up and walking away.
And that was the last time Dib ever walked by the lake ever again.
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Not Ready to be a Dad
Fallon stood on the balcony of his apartment, looking out at the rainy city. His cigarette hung dangerously out of his mouth, threatening to fall to the alleyway below. He pulled it out, exhaling a puff of smoke before snuffing it out in the small ashtray he kept out there.
He tried to think about what to do today, not like he had many options. Probably walk around the city, maybe ‘grab’ a snack.
He stood up, pulling his jacket’s hood over his head as he hopped down from the balcony to the small set up of boxes and dumpster that made a make shift staircase street below. It wasn’t that far down, just a little bit of a leap at first but he was proud of his little ‘escape exit’ without completely breaking his legs.
The rain poured on the water proof jacket, sliding off with ease as he exited the alley and into the town, looking like a mess or a thug with the way he was hiding his face and slumping over with every step. That or a tired college student.
People moved out of the way of Fallon as he stumbled along, trying to avoid the puddles or giant holes in the sidewalk. He even managed to avoid a person by twirling around in a circle before ungracefully hitting his shoulder into a lamp post, earning a low grumble.
He continued to walk along the city streets, without much of a purpose, stopping to stare at shop windows and dreaming about things he could have if he actually kept a job for more then a couple of weeks... or tried to get a job...
He was thrown from his thoughts when he heard a whimper from a wet box.
He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at the small cardboard to see wet ear, popping out of the top.
“Oh... oh god no.” He muttered softly as he walked over, slowly pulling the top of the box open.
Inside was 2 kittens, two black kittens, mewing and soaked to the bone.
“Oh fuck... oh fuck... no don’t do this to me man...”
One of the kittens, the smaller one meowed loudly, taking a paw and placing it on Fallon’s hand, it’s little eyes basically begging the man for help.
He scooped the two in his jacket, zipping it up a little as he began to make a b-line for home, head racing with thoughts.
“I can’t be a dad, look at me, I have dyed hair and emotional issues to the brim... I’m too young to be a dad. What the hell do cats even need... how old are you? like... 2? 2 something... months? how old do cats get?” He hissed to himself on the street earning looks from strangers on the streets as the kittens clawed at his warm undershirt.
“I don’t got money... Cats are expensive... do I need to put up an ad? How long can i keep you guys aw... fuck.”
He stumbled into his apartment and emptied the kittens on the floor who shivered and mewed sadly.
Fallon threw his jacket to the side, hair slightly damp from the run off.
“Ok... uh you’re cold, i need to warm you up. Blankets are good, towels, blankets...” He rambled, beginning to search his house for every pillow and blanket he could, quickly piling them up in the center and dropping the kittens in the bundle.
One of them gave a small hiss at his handling, to which he jumped and gave a small
“I’m trying to help little man, keep your pants on.”
As the kittens began to settle in the warmth, digging in the blankets for warmth Fallon did his job, sitting beside the stash of babies and beginning to learn what they needed.
Soft food, litter or a little place to go potty, some water, maybe a toy. God how long would he be keeping them? Would he put up a thing on social media and have any one just come nab the cats only to put them on the street again?
Who the hell left him with these choices he didn’t even eat breakfast today.
He rubbed his eye, pushing his sunglasses up as he thought about what he could do, the soft sounds of mewing causing him a bit of panic.
One of the kittens, the bigger one decided to come out of the pile and begin to crawl on Fallon’s sweat pants, trying to huddle to his warmth instead of the blankets, and despite it’s mews it seemed to calm him down.
He placed the phone down for a moment, stroking it’s tiny head with a few fingers. He noticed how frail it was, how small. How defenseless. How easy it would be to miss that box.
It tore him up a bit as he gave a shaky breath.
“You picked a real shit day to stay out in the rain, bud. Now you got a garbage dad... for a bit uh... don’t expect to get too comfy.”
As he said this the kitten laid against his stomach, closing it’s eyes as it began to rest.
He stayed quiet, staring at the small life in his lap.
“Oh you’re gonna get me in some real trouble...” He muttered as he picked them back up, put his jacket back on and stuffed them inside before walking back out to the rain, which was beginning to come down with more force.
He couldn’t leave them alone, he was scared. He didn’t know why they’d be safer at home, but the idea of leaving them again filled him with dread. Besides, maybe if he had the kittens with him he didn’t have to steal stuff, maybe some kind hearted shop worker could give him a starter kit.
He pushed into the small shop, soaking wet as the clerk behind the counter greeted him, a bit cautiously.
A man in a hood, soaking wet, hands in his pockets, covering his eyes and looking completely distraught and stunned was a bit odd to say the least.
“Hell of a time to be out in that weather huh?” She said, trying give small talk.
Fallon looked to her, swallowing a small lump in his throat as he approached the counter.
“Look I need... something from you.”
“I... that’s what i’m here for sir.”
“I mean... I know, god.” He huffed, hanging his head for a moment. “Look I don’t... got money. And... I need...” He began only to be interrupted by a loud mew from his jacket, causing the clerk to jump.
“I uh... I ... what do kittens... eat? Do you have some of that? or... little floor pad for the bathroom?”
The clerk was confused as she tried to look at the jacket, noticing the writing shapes inside of it. She looked back to Fallon’s face. Wet, distraught, begging.
“You’ve never had cats had you?”
He shook his head, unzipping his jacket to show the two small black creatures clawing up his shirt.
“I found them in the alley. It... it was raining I couldn’t leave them there but I don’t know how to take care of them or how to... I... look I know your not allowed to give shit out but I really don’t have the cash... I don’t know anyone who could take them I just... I just need a little food for them at least. Please, Laura.”
The cashier was a bit stunned before remembering she had a name tag on her and stared at the mint colored hair of the man before her.
She walked away, going to a certain isle and asking him to follow her.
Fallon zipped his coat back up and followed, turning to see some small cans of wet cat food.
“How old do you think they are?”
“Young. Not very old...”
“What flavor do you think they’d like?” Laura asked, a little smile on her face.
“Uh... Turkey? They seem like they’d like that.” He muttered, eyes focused on the cans that she grabbed and took back to the counter.
She rung them up and quickly tapped a few things into the machine before bagging them up and handing them to Fallon.
Fallon reached for the bag only for her to pull it back, causing him to stop.
“I’m only gonna give this to you if you promise to make sure they get a good home. Or you at least learn more about the little guys you have in your jacket.”
“I promise... I do I don’t wanna see them on the street. I’ve been looking stuff up, I, I got a bunch of blankets and pillows and... and stuff.” I promised, his voice desperate.
Laura heard the shaking his voice and handed him the bag, giving a small smile to Fallon.
“Good. You’re lucky im a bleeding heart for babies.”
Fallon gave a grateful, all be a bit goofy smile as he took the bag and thanked her before rushing out of the store and back home.
The kittens happily munched the food, making strange mews and noises as they devoured their meal on the small paper plate he had set down for them, next to a shallow bowl of water.
He managed to find some paper ads that he placed on the ground, hoping that the cats would some how magically know that that’s where they had to go to do their business.
Fallon was laying on the ground, shirt off and thrown to the side with how the rain managed to soak through his jacket, and a new pair of pants on. His wet hair plastered to his face and for once his sunglasses were off as he stared at the small little gremlins, their faces covered in food.
He would occasionally reach a hand out, earning a little hiss before they went back to eating. After the third or forth attempted he managed to pat one of their backs, making his heart soar in elation.
God he hoped that he didn’t get too attached.
#fallon's tag#my oc#wow fully original little story bout fallon? who'd would have thunked?#original character
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Could you please sometime write something angsty involving your original character Sam? Maybe? Anyway I just wanted to say I love your tu me le page and your writing
I made mention that I was going to try and squeeze in a prompt this weekend (*barely skates in past the deadline*). I don’t know how “angsty” we’re talking, but this particular ask has been in my inbox a while:
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Sam DiLaurentis-Fields wasn’t the kind of kid who got into fights at school. For as long as he could remember he’d been a lover, not a fighter. When he was a baby he’d scream his little lungs out when his sisters fought. When he was a toddler, he always made sure to hug all of his friends so none of them would feel left out. He was the kind of kid who made sure everyone in his kindergarten class got a valentine on Valentine’s Day.
Sam wasn’t the kind of kid who threw right hooks, at least, not without reason. Yet, he was walking up his driveway with battered knuckles and a black eye.
He’d been going through some things at home. He’d had trouble adjusting to his sisters going to college. They still lived at home, but they spent a lot of their time on campus. They mostly just came home to eat and beg their moms to do their laundry.
His mother Alison had scoffed at the suggestion and had thrown a pair of dirty underwear at her twins before telling them to do their own damn laundry. His mother Emily had recorded it on her phone while laughing.
Sam had also been struggling to keep up in his English class at school. He was more sensitive than most little boys his age, and it showed in his writing assignments. It got him a lot of hate from his classmates. Normally he didn’t really care about it. He spent most of his time on the playground with his best friend Aurora Fitz anyway. He didn’t need anyone else.
But lately, the teasing and the taunts had been getting worse. It had made him angry and confused about a lot in life.
He pulled his hood up over his head before he reached the front door. He thought if he could just slip past his mothers and hide in his room for a while he wouldn’t have to explain how he’d laid out a boy in his class. They’d both managed to avoid disciplinary action at school because no one saw it happen and neither one of them snitched. But Sam had a feeling it was going to be a little harder to keep it a secret from his family.
He saw Lily’s car in the driveway and for a second he thought about sneaking in through the back to avoid his sisters and his moms. He hesitated before walking through the front door.
He heard laughter coming from the living room.
“Hey, little brother!” He heard Grace call out to him.
“Hey, big sister.” He called back as he walked towards the stairs.
He thought he was home free, but then he heard his mother’s voice.
“How was school today, Sam?” Emily asked as she walked around the corner.
Sam pulled his hoodie further over his face. Emily didn’t miss the reaction. She peered at her son curiously.
“Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “Lots of homework. I’m going to my room.”
“Excuse me? We came all the way home from campus to spend some time with our favorite brother and he can’t make time for us?” Lily asked as she walked over towards where her mom was standing.
“You drove seven miles to raid the fridge.” Sam gave her a hard time, hoping that his normal bickering would convince them he was fine.
“I’m offended.” Grace walked towards them. “It wasn’t the fridge. It was the cabinet.”
Crap. Sam thought to himself. He was never going to get past them. He did his best to shield his black eye.
“I’m surprised it wasn’t the trash. I’ve seen you pull pizza out of the garbage, Grace.” Sam uttered.
“Well, get a load of the snark on you.” Grace was surprised.
“Watch out, we got a real badass here.” Lily threw her arms up teasingly.
His mother Alison walked into the room and Sam thought he was going to have a panic attack.
“I’ll catch up with you later. Like I said…homework…” He tried to move towards the stairs.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding us.” Lily frowned. “What’s with the emo look, Sammy?” She reached towards the hood on his head.
“Nothing. I just want to go to my room.” His attitude shifted drastically.
“She’s right. You’re acting weird.” Grace frowned.
“Sam, is something wrong?” Alison asked. She looked at Emily, worried.
“No!” He grumbled defensively. He put his hand on the banister.
“Hold up…” Grace put herself between her little brother and the wooden stairs that led up to his quiet freedom from his sisters and his mothers.
She pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down, revealing his disheveled hair and what looked to be a bruise forming around his right eye.
“What the hell, Sammy?” Grace exclaimed.
Lily was behind Grace in an instant, observing the marks on his face.
“What happened? Who did this to you?” Lily’s voice came out as a fearsome growl. It was unlike any noise he’d ever heard before, especially coming from her.
Lily was calm. Lily was quiet. He’d never heard her react with such vigor before. She sounded like an angry tiger ready to sharpen her claws on the first thing she could find. It was a little bit intimidating…the quiet fire his sister had. Unlike Grace, who undoubtedly wore her heart on her sleeve when it came to emotions, Lily had a terrifying fire in her belly that could scorch the Earth without warning.
“It’s nothing.” Sam tried to play it off.
“Bullshit it’s nothing.” Alison had her hand on his face seconds later, cupping his chin and observing the purple discoloration beneath his right eye. “Sam, who did this to you?” She sounded like she was ready to rip someone to shreds.
He jerked away from her touch. Emily watched the interaction quietly. She could tell there was something he was too afraid to say. She could see that he felt cornered by all the aggression. She recognized that there was something he wanted to hide. Sam looked at her helplessly, begging for her to be the voice of reason, like she always was.
Emily was the only person who seemed to have a grip on her emotions in his family. Lily usually had a tight grip on her reactions, but she had a quiet fire that threatened to explode when someone hurt the people she loved. Grace and Alison both had a fire that couldn’t be diminished. Lily usually wasn’t one to lose her temper. But she looked ready to kill. The only one who had an even expression on her face was Emily.
“Just leave me alone.” Sam pushed Alison away and bounded up the stairs.
Grace followed him, her nostrils flaring. She grabbed his arm.
“Sam, you tell us who did this right now.” Grace ordered.
He jerked away from her and pushed her.
“Samuel Wayne DiLaurentis-Fields!” Alison snapped at her son.
But he was already gone. Grace stomped down the stairs and past her mothers. Lily followed her.
“You take them. I’ll take him.” Emily suggested.
“Oh, sure, leave me with the girls with hairline trigger tempers.” Alison scoffed sarcastically.
“That’s all you, sweetie.” Emily smirked at her. “You speak bitch-ese.”
Alison scowled at her.
“You’re lucky I love you.”
Emily smiled at her innocently before trekking upstairs. Unsurprisingly, she found Sam’s door closed. She knocked lightly and twisted the door knob. He was sulking on his bed. He turned over, refusing to look at her.
Emily walked over to the side of the bed.
“What’s up, Sammy?” Emily asked, sitting down next to him.
“I’m tired of everyone treating me like a baby.” Sam complained.
“Your sisters and your mother are just worried. That’s all.”
“Well, they can stop. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” Emily shrugged. “You’re my kid.”
That garnered Sam’s attention. He turned over to face Emily.
“Did you get into fights when you were my age?”
“I threw a couple of punches in my day.” Emily nodded. “I was a little bit older than you are now. But I did bruise a few knuckles.” She picked Sam’s hand up to observe the scrapes on them.
He didn’t pull away from her. Instead, he stared at the blood on his hand. He barely even registered when Emily took a closer look at the shiner around his eye.
“We should probably get some ice on this.” She gently looked at the puffiness on his cheek.
Sam held his hand up, looking at the tiny bruises forming on his knuckles. He hadn’t known that punching someone’s face would hurt so much.
“I started it,” he murmured.
“What?” Emily asked.
“I threw the first punch.”
He waited for the inevitable explosion, the lecture, the mom-talk. But Emily had an inkling about what had happened. She’d seen the look on his face when he’d been unmasked by Grace. There was something in his expression that gave it away, but she needed to be sure.
“Sam, why would you start a fight? Your mother and I have taught you better.”
Sam turned away, refusing to say anything at first. But he felt his mom’s eyes boring a hole through his head. He sighed and turned around again.
“I’m sorry, mom.” His voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to…” He stopped himself short. Because he’d absolutely meant to. He frowned, a scowl on his face. He looked a lot like Alison when he was pissed. “There was this kid…he kept talking smack about the fact that I’ve got two moms. And he talked about Lily and Grace, too. And it just made me so mad. He made it seem like you and mom weren’t normal…”
Emily had to contain her reaction. All she wanted to do was set the people who had hurt her son on fire.
“You and mom and Lily and Grace are all that I care about. I don’t like it when other people are mean to you. And when he was mocking me, he was mocking you…and mom. And everything about our lives. I mean, I know we’re different, and I’ve always been fine with that. But other kids don’t understand. And how can I compete with the stupid regular families with white picket fences and a mom and dad?”
“Regular is not a thing, buddy.” Emily touched his cheek. The bruise was starting to piss her off more and more. “Look, Sam, there are ignorant people out there.” Emily bit her tongue, trying like hell to fight the rage that she felt inside. “There are people who are going to tell you that your mother and I…that we’re not normal. And that your sisters are…” She struggled to find the right words to say to her young innocent son, “…that we’re different.”
“He said Grace and Lily were an abomination.”
I will beat this child. I’ve never hit a kid, but I’ll knock this little shit’s front teeth out…
But she controlled herself.
“That’s not true.” She tried to calm him down. “You and your sisters are the best thing that ever happened to your mother and me.”
Sam smiled. He loved his moms so much. And it hurt him when other people said ugly things about them.
“Whatever this kid said…it doesn’t change that.” Emily assured him.
“He’s such an asshole, mom.”
Normally, Emily didn’t like to hear her kids swearing. But this felt justified. And she didn’t say a word about it.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t want to say. You and mom will just make it worse.”
“Sam, I give you my word that this is just between us.”
“You promise?”
“I pinky swear.” She held her pinky out to him.
Wow. A pinky swear. This was big. Sam smiled at his mother. Emily felt her heart melting. He had his mother’s dimples. He hooked his finger into Emily’s and then looked at her.
“It was Justin Coogan,” he said with a frown.
Emily felt her temper flaring. Justin’s father, Ben, was a real piece of work. It came as no surprise that his son was a little shit just like he was.
“Well, between you and me…Justin is a dick.”
“Everyone who is anyone knows that.” Sam shrugged.
Emily laughed.
They talked for a few more minutes. She saw her son loosen up. Once she realized he was okay she decided to let him have the privacy he wanted.
“Sit tight, okay?” Emily pat his knees.
“You’re not going to tell mom and the girls are you?” Sam grimaced.
“I won’t say anything to Lily and Grace. But you and I both know your mother has been sitting outside the door listening this entire time.” She glanced towards the door, which she’d left cracked for that very reason.
The door creaked open and Alison peered in at Sam and Emily.
“Hello, dear.” Emily glanced at her.
“I’m going to murder that little son of a…”
“Ali, I’ll handle it.” Emily cut her off. “Sam, go with your mom. She’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sighed.
He hopped off of his bed and walked over to Alison. Alison glanced at Emily with a look that said, “punch that asshole in the nuts” before she walked off with Sam.
Twenty minutes later Emily was on Ben Coogan’s doorstep. She rarely saw him, and she liked it that way. But when it came to her kids there was nothing she wouldn’t do.
When he answered the door he was surprised to see her. He leaned against the doorframe with a cocky look on his face. It was very much an expression that Emily wanted to wipe off of his face. But she fought back the urge to hit him.
“Emily Fields…” He grinned. “How have you been?”
“This isn’t a social call, Ben.” She balled her right hand into a fist.
“Mm.” He nodded. “I wondered if you’d show up and act like the self-righteous little bitch that you are.”
The urge to punch him was growing stronger.
“Your son has been harassing my son.” Emily gritted her teeth angrily.
“My son says your son threw the first punch.”
“Because your son was saying vile things to him.”
“My son didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Ben shrugged. “I mean, look at him…running to his mommies because of a little scrap at school…”
Of course the chauvinistic pig was siding with his little asshole spawn.
“You really are a piece of work, Ben.” Emily laughed angrily. “I’m sorry that you have a problem with the fact that I’m gay. And I’m sorry that your tiny little pea brain can’t comprehend that you never would have been enough to satisfy me. I’m sorry that your ego is that fragile. But I swear to God, if you don’t keep your kid in line you’re going to see a side of me that you’ll wish you’d never met. I will show you exactly who I am. And I guarantee that it will send you running to your mommy.” She leaned closer to him, showing a complete lack of fear. “Who do you think taught my boy how to land a punch?”
Ben took a step back and Emily couldn’t help but laugh. He was still the same scared insecure little boy he’d been in high school. She actually felt sorry for his son. Because Justin had no clue what a real man was like. Ben scoffed at her before he shut the door. But Emily knew that he’d gotten her message.
She used the walk home to cool off. Her adrenaline was pumping.
When she got home she was surprised to find Grace, Lily, and Sam in the front yard. Grace had on boxing pads and Sam had on big bulky gloves. Lily was coaching from the sidelines.
“Sam, you’re leading too much with your left foot. You need to really lean into it to get the power behind it and then follow through. And you don’t want to give away which fist you’re about to swing.”
“Yeah, don’t give that little shit a chance to react.” Grace added.
“Watch your mouth.” Emily glared at Grace as she walked past them.
“I’m an adult. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
“Is that so? Where’s my rent check then?” Emily asked.
“I love you, mommy.” Grace smiled innocently.
“What nonsense are you teaching the boy?” Emily asked. “You two do realize you could be tried as adults, right?”
“I don’t care.” Grace shrugged. She cared about her brother more than she cared about breaking the law.
“Yeah, Aunt Spencer would get us off.” Lily agreed.
Emily shook her head with a laugh and walked over towards the porch, where Alison was sitting in a chair and nursing a drink. Emily sat down next to her wife.
“You were supposed to talk them down from this.” Emily frowned.
“Yeah, that was before I found out the other kid was Ben Coogan’s son.” Alison sipped on her lemonade. She glanced at Sam, who had landed a decent punch into Grace’s boxing pad. “That’a boy, Sammy!” She raised her glass.
“Ali.” Emily looked at her in surprise.
“Oh, don’t play the high and mighty card. We both know you went over there to give that asshole a piece of your mind.” She faced Emily. “Did you hit him?”
Emily frowned.
“No. But I sure as hell thought about it.”
“I can’t believe the world lets people like that procreate. That kid is the walking embodiment of the devil.”
“That’s an insult to the devil.” Emily scoffed.
They watched Sam as his big sisters coached him on how to defend himself. Sam felt his stress melting away as he spent time with his family. He was able to get his frustration out.
So the next day at school it didn’t bother him when Justin called him a pussyboy. He simply ignored him. The taunts got increasingly worse as the day went on. Aurora felt like dumping her lunch over Justin’s head, but Sam told her he wasn’t worth it. He told Justin to get lost and he let him know he wasn’t afraid of him.
Later that afternoon Justin found Sam and Aurora near the buses. He tried to antagonize Sam into a fight, but Sam dismissed him. But the taunts continued, and it drew a crowd. It was getting harder and harder for Sam to ignore.
Fortunately for him, he had friends in all the right places. Justin was in the middle of calling Sam a mistake that never should have happened when a loud revving engine cut the boy off in the middle of his sentence.
Aurora smiled at Sam as her big brother’s convertible pulled into the school car pick-up lane. Her brother, Finn, stopped the car in front of the group of younger kids. Most of them gawked at it. They weren’t used to seeing the cool high schooler on their turf.
The top of the convertible was down. So were the windows. Finn looked out at his little sister and Sam. Aurora climbed into the back of the car. Sam looked over at the onlookers, who seemed impressed by the older boy’s status. Everyone knew Finn Fitz. He was a star lacrosse player and one of the sweetest guys at Rosewood High. Guys loved him and girls were in love with him. Anyone who was friends with him was automatically deemed cool for life.
Finn waved to Sam.
“Hey, hop in, kid.”
Sam flipped Justin the bird and climbed in next to Aurora with a huge grin on his face.
The crowd gawked. Was Sam DiLaurentis-Fields cool?
Finn glanced out the window, staring daggers at Justin.
“You’re Justin, right?” Finn lowered his sunglasses enough to look at the younger boy.
He had a menacing look on his face. It was enough to get Justin to back off.
“Who’s asking?” Justin asked.
“Don’t worry, little guy,” Finn said in a patronizing manner. “One day you’ll grow out of wetting the bed. Be brave, okay?”
Sam and Aurora snickered from the back seat.
“I don’t!” Justin exclaimed defensively.
But it was too late. The crowd had turned on him. Sam didn’t mind seeing him getting a taste of his own medicine.
Finn pulled the car out of the parking lot. Sam turned around and looked out the back windshield. Then he looked at his best friend. She shrugged innocently.
“I may have called for reinforcements.” Aurora shrugged, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“Thanks.” Sam smiled. He leaned forward. “I owe you one, man.” He looked at Finn.
“Don’t mention it.” Finn shrugged. “Your sisters would have killed me had I not stepped in. I thought it would be better than having them show up with water balloons full of shaving cream.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry about those assholes, Sam. In a few years they’re going to be stuck in this town flipping burgers while you’re out there changing the world.”
Sam leaned back against the seat, a smile on his face. He knew that Finn was right.
He’d always known that his life was different.
But it was different in the best way. He had amazing parents, two incredible sisters, and friends that not even money could buy. He knew that his childhood would one day be a blip on the radar of his life. But he intended to appreciate that little blip for all it was worth at the moment.
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56: We continue, perhaps a bit later in the day than I might have liked.
Before we get started, I would just like to ponder something to myself: What is Dirk’s actual motivation? I had assumed that his decision to take over the narrative was just a result of the belief on his part that it was a natural part of his evolution, or that he was actually not doing it with a particular purpose in mind, but after Alt!Calliope accusing him of Megalomania became a thing, I guess I have to open up my mind to other possibilities. It could be that she has simply observed him exploiting the capacity he now has in order to heighten his control over others (as was the natural result, considering his personality), but it might actually be that there’s something more.
If I had to guess, it would be that (based on his conversation with Rose, and the statement about reality becoming congealed) he desires to prevent everyone’s lives from losing relevance and fading into an empty heap of incomplete thoughts and useless garbage. That is to say: given the story was over, but in such a way that things were left unanswered, the story was incomplete, and the main characters were gods that would continue growing over time, it is conceivable that once Dirk reached the point where he could actually discern the narrative himself and saw that Hussie had essentially abandoned Homestuck (closing out the story in such a way that locked LE in canon and placed the early parts of Universe C/Earth 3′s timeline[s] outside of it), he had a crisis surrounding his existence as a fictional character, and wanted to take up Hussie’s role as a way to attempt the preservation of all of their lives, and the integrity of reality within their fictional (thus murky/fluid/malleable) world?
Considering I know that Dirk is the first character with a “speaking” role in Homestuck^2, and that this is him writing a long letter (note: I am now reminding you all that I accidentally very slightly dipped into it before I realized that it was not the Homestuck Epilogue[s]), I guess... maybe he eventually succeeds? I mean, getting a continuation/spin-off would be one way to fulfill the “escape the destruction of Paradox Space by creating/traveling to a separate version of reality/world beyond its limitations” win condition that was one of the many possibilities that would mean the epilogue was satisfying in a narrative sense and not (entirely?) a Bad End. Given the fact it’s on a different site, which could further emphasize this achievement, if that is the correct interpretation/guess to make about the later events which I have not read yet... congratulations, horrible person/Unreliable Narrator for theoretically saving reality for a time?
I don’t know. That all seems uncertain and possibly a bit of a stretch at this point, and I feel like I’m cheating for including that accidental viewing into my analysis for the work I’m presently navigating. I want to be honest with you all about my thoughts and experiences-- or at least as honest as I can be while ensuring that I don’t essentially post things stream-of-consciousness -style. I do have certain standards of plausibility and coherence that I hold myself to, after all. I want to keep this interesting and entertaining for you guys, just as it is for me.
...
And finally, we get back to Terezi and John. I will not react to their entire page, this time-- or at least my intention is to not do so --but rather, only a half of it. That way this post won’t get as too terribly bloated. ***irony rimshot ahoy***
Uuuugggh! John, can’t you tell that you’re killing yourself?!?!?! Gah!
Tin of tobacco? What, is Dad a chewer? Certainly an int--- ooohhh, it’s pipe tobacco. I see. I wonder what sort of nutritional value there is in there.
(Note: That’s two toxic substances she’s been eating for some reason.)
OH MY FRICKING GOSH!!! XD
Hmm. John presents an interesting question, just after this, with regards to her getting flavors from colors. Indeed, that is very much a form of synaesthesia. That said: Yeah, I know at least chewing tobacco can do that. Not sure about flakes of the smoking variety. I know that it can poison you to death if you eat too much of it.
Oh, hey, it seems that Terezi has probably noticed John’s confused+growing feelings for her. Neat.
(And yeah, that’s what you get for talking with a Mind player. :P)
So great. So great.
... I am pretty sure it has been more than a few years. I guess the time in the Furthest Ring can be really fricking weird, though, and since Terezi said he wasn’t as old-seeming as she thought he would be, maybe the four of them somehow just got insanely lucky time-ways, which is... sortof ridiculous, considering Lord English’s time powers. I guess it’s like Clover’s caveat that luck only bends so far as to not counter things that could be considered either lucky or unlucky, or neither in great amounts? (Note: Clover’s defeat by Karkat happened because Clover thought it would be him “getting lucky” and falling into a Hearts, Stars, Horseshoes relationship with him. At the same time, it was unlucky because it was him being defeated. Thus, the power is shown to not only be weak against mediocre things like being hit with something that doesn’t hurt you [the only reason LE could get hit at all, probably, with the exception of his eventual critical sword wounds as the Green Sun Black Hole’s void influence grew], but also against things that could be described as either good or bad.) LE getting opponents that are not massively crazy from being held enclosed for trillions of years without connections to the outside world could be considered lucky insofar as he has been constantly desiring and looking for real challenges for ages upon ages, at least as far as I understand things.
Obviously, there’s the collective wills of all who have every been oppressed by him, and the prophesy of the Ultimate Juju being used as a weapon against him after its use by him to be considered, as well, but I think that there can logically be many sources playing into these sorts of outcomes.
But yeah, I guess maybe it was seemingly eons for everyone else, but that little pocket of the Furthest Ring inexplicably only suffered a few years’ passage~
Hey, you asked for her to get real with you! Don’t complain when her sincere reactions aren’t what you’d want! XD
Also: They’re totally going to run into something important while they’re not paying attention, aren’t they?
<3
Of course she’d put them on there. It was practically like using candy to bait a trap for a baby.
NOW CLICK YOUR SHOES TOGETHER THREE TIMES AND GO HOME!!!
Sortof like the fight with LE, but you got lucky and pulled a Pyrrha out of your hat.
This should remind you of the fact that you can use your retcon powers to go save Vriska. WHY DIDN’T YOU THINK OF THIS EARLIER?!?!?!!!
(Honestly, with his bleed+poison, it’s almost a miracle he’s thinking this straight, so I really don’t hold it against him, truthfully. ... And yeah, self-blinded “F1X TH1S” Justice Terezi Pyrope was so fricking amazing, it’s almost unbelievable.)
***suddenly feels like I got my heart torn out and bashed against a hard surface by a time travelling robot for not remembering [S] Terezi: Remem8er. merged her memories of the two sides of the Retcanon Timelines***
Gah. This... this hurts so much. ;~;
Huh. I thought for sure Caliborn’s circle drawing had “HUGE BITCH” in the center of it, and I was going to post that in relation to the Fat Vriska/Vriska being sucked into the black hole prophesy/foreshadowing, here, but it said, “FAT UGLY WHORE.” Still somewhat relevant, but not what I was remembering, and thus not quite so connected as I’d like. I guess there’s always her intro panel:
#Homestuck Epilogues#Homestuck^2#Homestuck Liveblog#Homestuck Spoiler#Vriska Serket#Terezi Pyrope#John Egbert#Dad Egbert#The Wallet#Green Sun Black Hole#Homestuck Theory#Thoughts#Stuff
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Meeting the Rasputins
HOLY. FUCK. IT’S DONE.
This is 19.6k words long. It was SIXTY-ONE FUCKING PAGES in Word before I switched everything to Tumblr formatting.
I want an award. I deserve it.
Summary: You finally meet Piotr’s family face-to-face. And, because nothing in your life is simple (and because I’m the author), you wind up with a head injury that provides a lot of much needed answers.
[Set after ‘Silent Scream.’]
Rating: T for sibling rivalries/issues, depictions of child abuse, head injuries, angst, angst, and more angst.
Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Frank Castle x Karen Page.
Much love and thanks to @leo-writer for proof-reading this monster!
@marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @rovvboat
You like to think that, in your relatively short time on this not-as-green-as-it-ought-to-be Earth, you’ve handled more than your fair share of shit and come out fine. You were raised by abusive parents, grew up in a community that persecuted and tormented you, were hunted by men with rifles, and have had to deal with Wade Wilson on cocaine withdrawals. You’ve looked death in the eye and walked away –relatively—unscathed. You are a grown-ass adult who can handle their own shit, thank you very much.
So, why is it, darling universe that lives to smite me and watch me suffer for no good reason, you think, a touch angry, as you pace the hallway you’re most definitely not hiding in, that I can’t handle meeting a new group of people that I already know doesn’t hate me.
It’s officially time to meet Piotr’s family. Yes, yes, you’ve met them over phone and Skype calls, but now they’re coming here. To the mansion. For a week. To get to know you and visit Piotr.
And you already know that they like you just fine.
But, the little negative troll voice in your head replies, what if they meet you in person and realize just how much of a garbage heap you are, and they decide they don’t want you anywhere near their perfectly functional, not fucked up son?
Touché, you think back, convinced despite yourself.
Before you can delve too much further down that rabbit hole, Nathan walks into the hall from the flight of stairs leading up from the ground floor and grabs you by the arm, thus preventing you from walking a rut into the carpet. “Relax.”
“Easy for you to say,” you grumble. “You’re not meeting the parents and siblings.”
“Yes, I am. Unlike you, for the first time.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need them to like you.”
He raises an eyebrow at that. “I thought you said your previous interactions with them went well?”
“Well, they did—”
“So why wouldn’t they like you now?”
“Because they’re going to figure out that I am a literal garbage fire of a human being.”
Nathan sighs and pulls you in for a one-armed hug. “Kid.”
“Yeah?”
“They’re meeting Wade, too. If you can do worse than him, I’ll actually be impressed.”
You giggle –a little on the hysterical side, but who gives a shit at this point—at that. “Fair enough.”
He pats your back. “You’ve got this. I think the only person outside of where you grew up that doesn’t like you is Scott, and he doesn’t count.”
You snort. “He’s your dad.”
“I said what I said.”
All anxious misgivings aside, you do feel better, more confident. You know that Piotr’s family likes you well enough, and you’re definitely not going to do worse than Wade, of all people. You’ve got this.
And then the door opens, and you can hear Piotr greeting people and talking to them in Russian, and, yupp, his family’s officially here, and you do not got this.
And, in light of that stunning revelation, you take the least destructive course of action possible.
You pass out.
You come to in the library, stretched out on one of the couches, with Wade’s worried face hovering over you.
(His face is also attached to the rest of his body, which is a relief in and of itself. You wouldn’t put it past him to decapitate himself for a reaction.)
“Less screaming than I was expecting. I can’t tell if I’m disappointed or not.”
You let out a weak huff. “I’ve seen uglier than you.”
“See, now I’m just offended. I’ll have you know that it takes a lot of work to look this bad, and I will not have my hard work go unrecognized.”
“You look just fine, handsome,” Nathan says softly. He’s seated in the chair next to you. “How’re you feeling?”
“A little lightheaded? Did I pass out?”
He nods. “You know why?”
“Fuck if I know,” you grumble as you fidget with the hem of your shirt.
“I, for one, highly advise never knowing anything ever,” Wade says brightly. “Makes life much easier that way.”
You laugh, and for a moment you almost forget that you’re in here because you passed out, and that you’ve still got to deal meeting Piotr’s family at some point—
And then the door to the library swings open and Piotr walks in, his expression the perfect picture of concern.
You feel your throat constrict as reality comes crashing back and look away quickly in a –bad—attempt to hide the tears welling up in your eyes.
Piotr’s by your side in an instant, cradling you in his arms and crooning to you gently. “Nyet, nyet, nyet. None of that. Why so upset? Are you hurt?”
You sniff lamely. “I’m sorry.”
You can feel him frown as he presses his lips against your forehead. “For what? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I’m just fucking everything up—”
He shushes you again, this time kissing the bridge of your nose. “Not true. You have ruined nothing.”
“But I passed out—”
“It happens—”
“And now your family’s gonna hate me!”
Piotr actually has to pause and blink a few times in order to process your sudden turn in reasoning, which is probably a good indicator for how far off base your logic is –not that you’re aware of that at the moment, because nothing in this life ever comes easy. “Myshka –tische,” he says when you don’t stop rambling. “I am not following. How do you get from ‘passing out’ to ‘my family hating you?’”
You let out a frustrated whine and gesture at your head. “It makes sense in here!”
He sighs softly and kisses your forehead. “You are worrying for nothing. Everything will be fine. I promise.”
You bury your face into his shoulder. “No, it won’t. They’re gonna realize I’m a fucking garbage fire and hate me.”
“You are not garbage fire—”
“Yes, I am!”
“Nyet. You are not.” He kisses your forehead. “Do you trust me?”
You scrub your face with your hands and nod.
“Then, trust me when I say it will be fine.”
“But—”
“Trust me. Please. It will be fine.” He helps you sit up and kisses you gently. “You stay here. I will get my family.”
“Wait.” You grab his shirt before he can stand. “Just –just for a minute. Please?”
He obliges, sitting with you while you take a moment to collect yourself. He holds your hands in his, rubbing little circles over your knuckles. His blue eyes are locked on you, loving and completely judgement free.
He’s a literal, actual angel.
There’s no way in hell you deserve him.
You take a deep breath –two, three, four, c’mon, Y/N, just like ripping off a bandaid—and nod. “Alright. Okay.”
He smiles softly, kisses your forehead, and squeezes your hand once before getting up and heading out of the library.
You can hear him talking in the hallway, and footsteps walking towards the library—
It’s happening. Oh God it’s happening.
Nate squeezes your shoulder. “Deep breaths. You’ve got this.”
You inhale deeply and focus on staying calm. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I’ve got this.
Meeting the Rasputin family, as it turns out, is not as disastrous as your anxiety thought it would be. Shocking.
It’s also more of an experience than your rational brain had expected. You’d expected them to be a loving, decent family –they are—and the similarities in appearance and personality quirks—
What you did not expect, first and foremost, was for Alexandra Rasputin to walk into the library while shucking a black leather jacket, thus revealing two full sleeves of tattoos on her arms.
Mikhail follows after her, also dressed in a black leather jacket, faded red Chucks, and heavily distressed jeans. He’s got piercings in both ears and long, curly hair that’s been tied back into a man bun, of all things, and you can just make out some sort of tattoo peeking over the collar of his shirt.
Illyana, the baby of the family at nineteen, is also similarly dressed in black –though she looks more ‘refined goth’ than ‘side road punk’ like her brother. Her ears are also pierced, silver studs sparkling from multiple points—
And then Nikolai walks in, wearing sensible, non-worn out jeans and a button-down shirt, and holy fuck you never considered that Piotr might be the odd kid out.
Next to you, Wade’s also similarly shocked. He’s actually gaping, mostly because he doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about him. “How did your boy scout end up like that with all of… this?” he hisses in your ear.
“Fuck if I know,” you whisper back.
“Y/N.” Alexandra smiles warmly at you, brown eyes sparkling as she extends a hand towards you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” Her dark, black hair cascades over one shoulder as she shakes your hand—
And it’s not hard to see why your uncle fell for her, way back whenever that was. You’re two seconds in to meeting Alexandra Rasputin, and you’re downright charmed.
“Nice to meet you, too,” you manage. “Sorry, uh, about the—”
She waves you off as she sits on the couch opposite of you. “These things happen. No apologies needed.”
After nearly a whole lifetime of being raked over the coals for your differences, your weaknesses, her simple, easy acceptance of the situation –of you—almost makes you cry.
Piotr goes about making the necessary introductions between his family, Wade, and Nate; since you know enough about Alexandra’s backstory, it’s easy to catch the glints of sharpness in her eyes that set her apart from her family, the little bits of awareness of who she’s talking to and just what they might be capable of. You’ve seen it in Wade, Nate, your uncle, Neena, and it’s… interesting to watch it now.
Illyana wrinkles her nose at Wade once the two of them are introduced, and for a moment you think she might say something about his appearance, but then she says, “I cannot read him.” She pauses for a moment, then jerks her chin at Nate. “Him either.”
That gets an eyebrow raise from Nathan. “You’re telepathic.”
“Wade has healing factor,” Piotr explains. “None of telepaths here can read him.”
“Pretty sure they wouldn’t want to!” Wade adds brightly.
“And Nathan…”
“Techno-organic virus,” Nate supplies, gesturing at his arm. “Part of it’s in my brain already. Puts out interference against telepaths.”
“So, your arm is not prosthetic?” Nikolai asks.
“It’s a virus I contracted as a child. It eats away at my organic body and replaces what it eats with metal and technology.”
Alexandra’s lips quirk into something resembling a smirk. “Fun.”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“And… how are you two related to Y/N?” Mikhail asks, brow furrowed. “She’s mentioned that the two of you are together, and I’ve heard Wade referred to as ‘brother,’ but she calls you ‘dad’…”
“They’re my adoptive family,” you clarify quickly. “None of us are actually related to each other.”
“And what about your biological family?” Nikolai interjects.
You grimace. You’ve kept your proverbial cards close to your chest about your biological family –some things just aren’t meant to be discussed over a Skype call. But now, now doesn’t seem quite like the right time to talk about it –your parents, growing up, everything—either.
You settle on the simplest option. “I’m not in contact with them, save for my uncle. He might show up while you’re here. Or not. He’s kinda like a cat, actually. Does what he damn well pleases when it damn well pleases him.”
Alexandra smirks, then nods. “Well, hopefully we’ll get to meet him.”
You wonder for a moment if she’s just playing along, or if she has no idea who you’re talking about, then shrug. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
There’s quite a bit you pick up about the Rasputin family in your first face-to-face conversation with them.
First, it’s that Nikolai’s the talker of the two parents. He’s not overly animated or loud, but asks the most questions and offers the most anecdotes. Alex, by contrast, seems more content to observe. Most of her commentary is a simple expression –a smirk, a raise of an eyebrow—or a gentle huff.
Alexandra, however, is definitely the wittier of the two of them. Which isn’t to say that Nikolai isn’t witty, but Alex can go toe to toe with Wade, of all people.
All conversation effectively dies for about five minutes because all of you are gasping for air after the two of them get going.
Second, it’s that the family seems to be full of ‘odd ones out.’ Case in point, Illyana’s the only Rasputin child to have gotten Nikolai’s blond hair –but Alexandra’s the only one with brown eyes; all of her children have her husband’s baby blues.
And Piotr’s really the only one that’s like Nikolai in mannerisms. His two siblings have more of Alexandra’s ‘grit’ to them. Their smiles are a little sharper around the edges, their responses a little edgier than their brother’s.
Illyana, however, is the only quiet one. Mikhail is loud and gregarious –roguish, even—and Piotr easily outpaces his baby sister by miles in the conversation department.
“She’s too used to using her abilities to glean everyone’s thoughts,” Alexandra says of her daughter at one point, nudging Illyana’s leg with her foot –and that’s when you notice that Alexandra Rasputin is wearing combat boots. “Not used to talking.”
“It is more efficient,” Illyana mutters, smirking just a little.
The third thing you notice about the Rasputin family takes a little more time to put together. In fact, you don’t really even pick up on it until you’re helping Piotr get his family settled in.
Mikhail and Piotr Rasputin do not get along.
“Do you like being X-Man?” Illyana asks as you and Piotr help his family unload the car they arrived in.
“I’m not technically an X-Man,” you clarify. “But I do help with missions, now and then. I wouldn’t say it’s ‘fun,’ but it’s definitely not boring.”
“Piotr says he likes it,” the youngest Rasputin explains. She smiles and wraps her arms around her brother’s waist. “Says it is best choice he ever made.”
Piotr beams as he squeezes her in a one-armed hug. “I like helping others, teaching others to be better. I find it fulfilling.”
“And some of us,” Mikhail interjects as he pulls a massive black duffel bag out of the back of the car, “like having fun.”
“Mikhail does mercenary work,” Illyana whispers to you as Piotr grimaces.
And, suddenly, Piotr’s constant aggravation with Wade makes sense; it just hits too close to home for comfort.
“Not just that, but da.” Mikhail grins. “Not all of us can live with being glorified nyanya.”
Piotr’s grimace deepens into a frown. “I see nothing wrong with it.”
Mikhail shrugs –a tense, jerky movement that belies the casual expression on his face—and starts walking briskly towards the house. “Not all of us can be you.”
You don’t miss the way Piotr’s shoulders sag, just a little, and roll up onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I think you’re an amazing teacher. The kids here are lucky to have you.”
He smiles down at you and kisses your forehead. “Spasibo, moya serdste.”
One of the best things about normal families that don’t hate each other, you’ve discovered, is that there’s an abundance of evidence of them being happy and living each other. Namely, in the form of pictures.
Especially pictures of childhood and teenage years that the subject of said picture might want, say, buried forever and left forgotten to humanity for the rest of time.
Which is how you find yourself cooing over various baby, childhood, and teenage-years pictures of Piotr while your boyfriend and his father work on preparing dinner. “Oh. My. Gosh.” You hold a picture of Piotr dated from when he was fifteen. “You never told me you dyed your hair!”
The picture itself shows a teenage Piotr favoring the camera with a brooding expression. He’s dressed in baggy jeans, a black hoodie, worn out looking farm boots –and his hair is dyed bright, obnoxious, blue-raspberry flavored Airhead blue.
Not the top, or the fringe. His whole head.
Piotr sighs and shakes his head, tips of his ears turning red as he focuses –very intently—on the skillet he’s working with. “I fail to see what is so amazing about all of this. My hair was blue. Many teenagers dye hair.”
“He had his friend pierce his ears in barn during summer,” Illyana adds, leaning over your shoulder to point at the picture. “He thought it looked cool.”
“It did look cool,” Piotr mutters under his breath; he shoots a sharp glare at Mikhail when his brother spouts off something in Russian, but says nothing else.
You can’t help but laugh when you make out the stud in your boyfriend’s ear. “Oh my gosh. You were an emo kid! Did you really pierce your ears?”
He sighs, but smiles with a shrug. “Da. I took piercings out when I turned twenty. The holes scarred shut.”
“Can I see?” You reach out for him when he sighs, then grin when he hands the pan he’s working with off to his father and makes his way over to you. You brace your hands against his chest and peer at his ear as he bends over so you can see better –and, sure enough, there’s a faint scar right on his lobe where the piercing used to be.
“Is not that funny,” he mumbles when you laugh, but he kisses your forehead anyway.
Mikhail chuckles. “Kiska-vzbityye.”
And while you don’t know what that particular phrase means, the sudden glare he gets from Piotr and the none-too-subtle throat clearing from Nikolai and Alexandra tell you that it couldn’t have been particularly nice—
And then all ponderings you have about what Mikhail just said fly out the window, because your uncle lands on the back lawn of Xavier’s property.
“Holy shit.” You dart out the back door and across the lawn to where he’s standing.
Your uncle catches you in a massive hug and spins you around. “Hey, punk! How ya doing?”
“Good! What’re you doing here? I didn’t even know you were coming!”
He smirks, shrugs, and starts steering you back towards the mansion. “Had the time off. Got bored of jacking around at my place. Thought I’d come see you.”
You can’t help but beam as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Well, your timing’s just amazing.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Well, Piotr’s family came to visit—” You cut yourself off right as the two of you step back into the kitchen, because at that precise moment you recollect the conversation on your uncle’s farm where you put together that he’d had a thing for Piotr’s mom –still has a thing for Piotr’s mom—and aw fuck.
The collective reactions from everyone in the kitchen are best described as ‘mixed.’
Your uncle, true to form, goes completely and utterly still at the sight of Piotr’s family. All signs point towards him bolting out the back door once the shock passes.
Mikhail seems more curious than anything else, which suggests that he doesn’t know the whole backstory between your uncle and his mother.
Piotr, who knows what you told him back on the farm, keeps looking between his parents, your uncle, and you, expression saying ‘what the hell do we do with this?’
Illyana’s face stays fairly neutral, but you can only imagine what sorts of thoughts she’s picking up from everyone.
Nikolai, surprisingly enough, doesn’t seem all that perturbed. Surprised, sure, but there’s none of the usual –or, perhaps more accurately, projected by mass media—automatic jealousy and chest thumping you would’ve expected.
And Alexandra, as true to form for all you have context for, smirks and lifts the bottle of beer she’s been sipping at while everyone’s been chatting and prepping dinner towards your uncle. “Been a while.”
That gets Mikhail’s attention. He frowns at his mother and jerks his head at your uncle. “You know him?”
One of Alex’s eyebrows tic upwards, just for a moment, and she lifts the bottle to her mouth to take another sip. “Old colleague.”
And that’s got to be some sort of code for whatever Alexandra’s got lurking in her past, because Mikhail’s eyes narrow automatically and he starts regarding your uncle with about as much caution you suspect he’s capable of.
Your uncle’s mouth tightens into a grimace –and then he sighs and visibly forces himself to relax. “Yeah. It has been.” He gestures with the hiking backpack he has slung over his shoulder. “Let me get settled, and then I’ll help get dinner ready.”
For a moment, you’re completely shocked by his apparent decision to stay –and so is everyone else, from what you can tell, because even Alex looks surprised—and then your brain kicks back on. “Uh, yeah. Let me help you find a room to stay in.”
It’s easy enough to find a room –most of the students and teachers are out for the summer, either staying with or visiting family—and you pick one that faces away from the drive and has a balcony.
Your uncle sets his pack on the floor next to the bed. “Thanks, punk.”
You nod and laugh nervously. “If I leave you to get settled in, are you just going to leave via the balcony and head back home?”
He sighs heavily, rubs at the back of his neck with his hand, then shakes his head. “No. I came here to see you. That hasn’t changed.”
You blink, stunned. “But Piotr’s family—”
He shrugs. “I’ll manage. I’m not gonna ditch out on you just because some people –well, no, yeah, ‘people,’ I met Nick a couple times way back when—I used to know are here. I’m not gonna do that to you.”
You throat constricts with emotion and your eyes get misty with tears. You practically dive at your uncle and wrap your arms around his neck in a massive hug.
He holds you back just as tight as you start to cry. “I got you, punk. I got you.”
You wake up next morning when Piotr does. Pale, golden, early morning light is peeking through the cracks between the curtains and the window frames; you can hear birds chirping outside, occasionally punctuated by sounds of traffic or people waking up from somewhere else in the house.
Piotr kisses your forehead when you stretch and make various squeaking noises. “Dobroye utro, myshka. It is still early. You can go back to sleep if you want.”
You sigh contentedly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down for a proper kiss. “No. ‘M up. What’re you doing?”
“Getting ready to work on breakfast.”
You stretch again –your back finally gives a satisfying pop—and sit up. “I’ll help you.”
He smirks as he resumes getting dressed for the morning. “‘Help’ or ‘hinder?’”
You gasp and feign offense. “I’ll have you know I’m plenty helpful!”
He chuckles –then laughs when you get up and start poking him in the ribs for some well-deserved retaliation, before catching your hands in his and lifting them to his mouth so he can kiss your knuckles. “Ya lyublyu tebya, dorogoy.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.” You kiss him gently, then start rummaging through your dresser to find a clean shirt and pair of shorts. “So… what do you think of my uncle being here?”
Piotr lets out a mildly amused huff. “I was not… expecting him.”
“Neither was I,” you mumble. You clear your throat, then say, “Are you, like, okay with him being around? Y’know, while your mom’s here?”
Piotr shrugs. “She seems comfortable enough. Besides, your uncle has just as much right to see you as moya mama does to see me.”
“Okay, but your mom has the poker face of a granite statue.”
He snorts at that. “Very true. But I think she is… as good with things as possible.”
Suitably dressed, you pull your hair back into a messy, somewhat haphazard bun, before pulling on a pair of socks. “Fair enough.” You kiss your burly boyfriend again before patting his chest and yanking him towards the hallway door. “Come on. I want coffee.”
As it so happens, Piotr’s parents and your uncle are already awake for the day and seated at the kitchen island. Your uncle seems a little twitchy –well, more so than usual—but seems to be holding up well, all things considered.
You plop down on the stool next to him and drop your head onto the counter. “Ow.”
“Try it again,” your uncle suggests. “I bet it won’t hurt the second time around.”
“Fuck you.”
Across the counter, Alexandra snorts. “How are you this morning, malen'kaya ptitsa?”
It takes you a minute to put together that she’s talking to you; when you do, you lift your head off the counter. “Uh… not bad? Kinda tired, but that’s pretty typical.”
The corner of her mouth turns up in a slight smile as she nods, and then she leans back on her stool a little and starts talking to Piotr in Russian.
You let the noise of their conversation wash over you as you drop your head back down to the counter –much gentler this time—and close your eyes. You’re starting to wonder if agreeing to get up when Piotr did was such a good idea after all—
And then Piotr sets a steaming mug of coffee down in front of you and kisses the top of your head.
Your uncle smirks as you pick up your cup with a delighted coo. “What, can’t make your own coffee?”
“I’m not allowed to dictate my own caffeine intake anymore,” you admit, “because someone thinks I’m irresponsible.”
“You drank three Redbull cans in almost as many hours when we drove out for training,” Piotr retorts, fixing you with an exasperated look. “You are exact definition of ‘irresponsible.’”
You smile sheepishly as the other adults laugh. “Yeah, but you love me.”
He kisses your temple. “Konechno.”
“Where do you go for training?” Alexandra asks as Piotr starts rummaging through the kitchen to get started on breakfast. “I was under the impression that Charles had well-equipped trainers to handle his recruits.”
“Oh, I do train here.” You jerk your head at your uncle. “I just go see him on occasion, if I need special training.”
Alexandra nods. “Not many mutants have access to other mutants with similar power sets. You are very lucky.”
You snort. “Well, I don’t know if I’d say ‘lucky.’ He lives out in the middle of nowhere. It’s a pain to get out to him.”
“Travelling builds character,” your uncle fires back easily.
“You make me do chores when I’m there!”
“Chores build character, too.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly and shake your head. “Yeah, whatever.” You take another swig of coffee, then cock your head to the side so you can see Alex’s tattoos better. “Y’know, even with all the times I talked to you guys on Skype, I don’t think I ever counted on you having tattoos.”
“Most people do not,” Alexandra says with a slight smirk.
“How long did it take for you to get all of them done?”
“Well, the actual tattoos take a few sessions to do, since they cover my full arms.” She holds up her left arm. “I worked on developing this sleeve for… a few years, I think, in my twenties, but this one—” she taps the right one “—I got done in a few weeks, when I was forty-two. Medvezhonok actually designed it for me, before he left to come to America.”
“That’s cool.” You peer closer at the design –it’s a piece that blends a sunset on a beach into a full on starry galaxy—and sure enough you pick up on little bits of Piotr’s style. “I never actually considered getting a tattoo. I guess I could get one, if I wanted to.”
“Wouldn’t recommend it,” your uncle interjects. “The family’s latent mutation is gonna make it harder for the ink to set properly.”
You let out a disappointed huff. “Well. That sucks.”
“Same goes for piercings, too.”
“Well, now I’m just depressed. How am I supposed to go through a proper rebellious phase without being able to get a tattoo or pierce the fuck out of my ears?”
“You still have hair,” Nikolai points out with a smile.
You grin. “That’s true. I could always dye my hair. And you could help me, babe, since you know all about that!”
Piotr just sticks his tongue out at you before going back to getting breakfast ready.
“So, what’s it like living in Russia?” I mean, Piotr’s already told me a lot, but I’m sure there’s stuff he left out.”
Alexandra and Nikolai take turns telling stories –about what farm life is like, about what the kids were like growing up, about the community they lived in. Each one’s better than the last, and it’d be more than easy to stay enthralled—
Except that your brain keeps putting certain details together.
Like how the Rasputin family lives on a farm.
And how your uncle mentioned that Alexandra had always wanted to live on a farm.
And how your uncle is still in some sort of love with Alexandra.
…And how he lives on a farm, too.
You wind up staring at him halfway through a story about how Mikhail had tried to teach their barn cats to swim, and the growing look of confusion and mild horror must be more obvious than you’d thought because Alex actually stops mid-sentence to glance between you and your uncle.
“Am I missing something?” she asks.
You blink at your uncle when he raises an eyebrow at you. “You… you live on a farm.”
Alex puts together the details much faster than you did and gives your uncle a look that lands somewhere between exasperation and shock.
“Relax,” your uncle grinds out quickly. “My coping mechanisms aren’t that bad. It’s a matter of convenience. Easier for me to stay off radars that way.”
“Konechno, konechno,” Nikolai says with genuine sweetness. “What kind of farm?”
“Not really anything specific. I grow some produce, but that’s about it –and it’s mostly for me, too,” your uncle explains with a jerky shrug. “It’s more about staying in the middle of nowhere.”
Nikolai frowns softly. “Must be lonely.”
Your uncle ducks his head, clears his throat, and pushes his stool back with a scraping noise as he stands. “Hey, Pete. Let me help you with some of that.”
It’s a clear cry for some space. Please, stop asking, I can’t take anymore.
Nikolai’s forehead wrinkles as your uncle walks to the opposite side of the kitchen. He opens his mouth to say something else, then pauses when Alexandra puts her hand on his arm.
She shakes her head.
Don’t try. Leave him be.
He closes his mouth again, hangs his head slightly –then clears his throat and straightens back up before smiling at you. “So. You… enjoy it here?” He gestures at the room. “At mansion?”
It’s unfathomable, but it almost seems like he’s… worried about your uncle. About the man who –at one point, ostensibly—was his romantic rival.
And, granted there’s a lot of water under the bridge that might’ve been Alex and your uncle, but the absolute, unlimited gentleness that Nikolai exudes is nothing short of amazing.
He reminds you a lot of Piotr, actually.
You smile back and nod. “I do.”
You wind up going on a run while your uncle and Piotr get breakfast ready. Since it’s the middle of summer there aren’t any students to interrupt your efforts, leaving you to run one of the trails in the woods at the back of Xavier’s property in peace.
And with that peace comes a lot of thoughts.
So far, things aren’t going all that bad with Piotr’s family –even with your uncle randomly showing up. You haven’t made an ass of yourself, and none of the Rasputins seemed too put off by your fainting spell yesterday.
You can still feel the need to have them like you lingering in your chest, though. A little nagging sensation that you’re not good enough.
Focus on running, you tell yourself. Oxygen in, bad thoughts out. Catharsis. Not twisting your ankles. Yes.
You slow down to a jog as you come out of the woods and onto the back lawn—
And nearly stop altogether when you see your uncle and Alexandra sitting out on the patio by the back door.
Because out of everything you expected to see today, that is not even close to any of it.
Alex inclines her head at you as you approach. “Care to join us?”
“For a minute, sure.” You plop down into one of the patio chairs and pant heavily. “I think I’m properly awake now.”
“I bet,” Alex says.
“I thought you only ran for food,” your uncle teases.
“Yes. This is my ‘pre-breakfast’ run.”
“What, do you have a pre-lunch run, too?”
“No. I’m not a masochist.”
Alex chuckles, then lifts her hand and makes a loose twisting motion.
The back door swings open just in time to let Nikolai –who’s carrying three cups of coffee with him—out onto the patio.
You keep an eye on your uncle as the two Rasputin parents converse briefly in Russian. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem too much weirder than normal, but that doesn’t mean you’re not done worrying.
Nikolai sets down one of the cups in front of Alex, one in front of the chair next to her, then hands the third to your uncle. “I was not sure how you take—”
Your uncle waves him off as accepts the cup. “Coffee’s coffee. I drink it however. Uh, thank you.”
You can’t help but blink.
It’s not every day you witness a man giving his former (sorta) romantic rival a cup of coffee, after all.
Nate and Wade show up a little before lunch –and Wade is absolutely delighted to finally meet your uncle –and vice versa—after so much time and speculation.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” your uncle says as he shakes Wade’s hand. “Especially a lot about you and fireworks.”
“We have a love-hate relationship,” Wade says with the utmost sincerity.
“And this—” you gesture to Nate “—is dad. Or, uh, Nate.”
Your uncle sticks out his hand to Nathan. “I already like you better than her biological one.” There’s a beat of silence, and your uncle looks like he’s dying inside for a moment before he looks down at you. “Awkward?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Just repress it?”
“Probably the best option.”
Nathan’s lips curl into a smirk. “I’m already seeing the family resemblance.”
“Terminal awkwardness,” you supply. “It’s genetic.”
“Part of the mutation lineage,” your uncle adds.
“So, not to point out the obvious, but you—” Wade points at you “—didn’t introduce him with a name.”
You freeze for a minute, because fuck there’s really not a good way to explain that—
“Legally, I don’t have one,” your uncle says.
Wade’s eyes light up. “So, that’s free game to call you whatever pops into my head in the moment?”
“Fuck no. Andrew works fine.”
“Well. That’s disappointingly vanilla.”
Your uncle watches Wade as he traipses into Xavier’s like he owns the place, an amused smile play at his lips. “Oh, he’s a riot.”
“Just wait,” you tell him. “He gets better.”
Ellie and Yukio show up after lunch –and both girls immediately gravitate towards Illyana, and you can absolutely see where some of Ellie’s goth style comes from now that you’ve got the two of them side by side.
“This is so cute, I can’t,” you whisper to Wade as you watch the two of them compare notes about some of the latest fashion trends in their fashion community.
“Baby Goth and… less Baby Goth,” Wade agrees. “Hi, Yukio!”
“Hi, Wade!”
“Did you bring it?” Ellie asks Illyana, the most excited and animated-looking you’ve seen her, well, ever. “Did you bring it?”
Illyana laughs. “Konechno. I must practice.”
Ellie whirls and looks imploringly up at Piotr. “Can we go to the music room? Please?”
Illyana bats her eyelashes at her older brother. “I do need practice.”
You frown, confused. “Wait, what? What practice? And why do we need to go to the music room it?”
Piotr chuckles as he starts walking out of the kitchen. “Come and see.”
Part of your curiosity is sated when Mikhail and Illyana walk into the music room with a guitar case and a violin case, respectively.
And then whatever satiation you might’ve had evaporates when Illyana pulls out an instrument you’ve never seen before. “The fuck is that?”
“Language, myshka.”
“Electric violin,” Illyana says, elbowing Mikhail in the side when he shoots Piotr a disbelieving look. “I played since age seven.”
“And you obviously play guitar,” you say as you point at Mikhail. “Huh. I guess I never thought you guys were musical. I mean, I’ve heard Piotr sing –well, try to sing—”
“We do not let him sing!” Mikhail exclaimed, eyes wide. “Never. He made Illyana cry when she was baby!”
Piotr shrugs somewhat amicably, though his smile looks a touch strained. “I just have different talents. Nothing wrong with that.”
Mikhail snorts. “If you say so.”
“Honestly acquired,” Nikolai pipes up, tapping his own chest with his index finger. “I am not singer either.”
“Play something by Metallica!” Ellie insists brightly as Illyana and Mikhail finish setting up.
Illyana snorts. “Do you enjoy giving complicated request?”
“I think we can handle it,” Mikhail says with an easy grin. “We have been practicing.”
You sit down next to Piotr, nestling against his side as he puts his arm around your shoulders. “Are they really going to play rock music?”
He smiles. “Wait and see.”
It’s quiet for a moment, save for the sounds of Illyana and Mikhail tuning their respective instruments.
Then, Illyana nods, Ellie hits ‘play’ on a CD player, and the opening chords of Metallica’s ‘Ride the Lightning’ blast through the room.
It’s nothing short of astounding. Illyana plays the part originally meant for the lead guitar, while Mikhail bobs his head with the beat as he plays the rhythm part.
You can’t help but grin. You don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it before. Then, a vocalist kicks in on the CD, and you frown. “Wait. That’s not James Hetfield.”
“Lzzy Hale,” Ellie says over the music. “It’s the Halestorm cover!”
Your jaw drops when Illyana keeps up with the fastest guitar riffs without even breaking a sweat. “Holy shit.”
Piotr doesn’t even bother to correct your language. He just beams like the proud brother he is. “She is very talented.”
“No kidding! I don’t think my fingers could move that fast, like, ever!” You grin and nod your head in time with the music. Alright. Color me impressed.
The next few days are nothing short of utterly delightful. Piotr’s family is absolutely wonderful to be around, your uncle’s not acting any weirder than usual and –dare you say it—even seems to be enjoying himself, and the mansion hasn’t blown up –which might be a record of some kind, all things considered.
Even with the weird tension between Piotr and Mikhail, things are good. The two brothers seem more happy than annoyed to see each other, and things don’t really escalate past a few pointed comments –usually from Mikhail—directed at each other.
If anything, the only regret you’re having is not always have a camera or your phone on hand. There’s no shortage of priceless moments –especially when Alexandra revealed she’d brought some of Piotr’s old artwork with. The look of mortification on his face –and the actual drawings and paintings themselves—was priceless.
It’s almost been downright idyllic.
…
“So, wait, you’re the mutant parent.”
Alexandra nods. “Telekinesis and energy manipulation.”
You point to Nikolai. “And you’re…”
“Carrier,” he says with a smile. “Not actual mutant, but gene is very present in family lineage.”
“So the likelihood that Piotr and I are gonna have mutant kids—”
“Basically guaranteed,” Alexandra says with a smirk. “I’ll be sure to give you a few fireproof blankets before you have your first one.”
Your eyes widen. “Fireproof?”
“Mikhail can summon fire –along with manipulating energy and teleportation.”
“Illyana can teleports, too,” Nikolai adds. “It is magic channeling, from my side of family.”
“So, what you’re saying is, I could have a fireball baby that could teleport at random.”
Alex chuckles. “Mikhail was.. rare. He manifested three weeks after birth. But Piotr was a, ah, late bloomer; we actually thought he wouldn’t be a mutant.”
“Manifested at nineteen,” Nikolai adds with a chuckle.
“Yeah, he’s told me the story. Put himself between Illyana and a tractor, just happened to armor up.” You grimace. “I’m glad he turned out to have an armor mutation.”
“So were we. At any rate, I doubt your children will manifest as young as Mikhail, since Piotr presented so late.” Alex eyes you for a minute. “You are planning on having children?”
You nod. “Yeah, after we get married. We’re just… uh…” You swallow hard and duck your head. “We’re waiting on some things with my health to… clear up.”
“Medvezhonok mentioned as much.”
Nikolai gently places his hand on yours. “How… how are things? Are you healthy?”
You nod as best as you can. “Yeah, pretty much. It’s more, uh, mentally related.”
Alexandra nods. “Your episodes.”
“I take it Piotr mentioned them,” you say with a grimace.
“Only that you had them and that no one knew why,” she clarifies. “He did not give specifics.”
“Yeah.” You sigh heavily. “If I knew why they were happening –if there was a way to treat them—I might not hesitate so much, but… I keep breaking from reality. And –and when I do that, I relive some… some really bad memories from my childhood. My uncle kind of explained it as my mutation putting up a defensive shield around me while I go through the episode? I, uh, I’ve uprooted trees before, so… yeah.”
Nikolai nods as Alexandra translates for him, then frowns deeply and squeezes your hand. “That sounds very… intimidating?”
“Scary,” Alex corrects.
“Da. That one.” He gives you a concerned look. “Do you have way to be safe during such moments?”
“Oh, yeah. The mansion’s got safe rooms for various mutation meltdowns,” you explain. “Whenever I have an episode, I book it over there until everything passes. And I’m not having as many lately. My therapist’s been working on treating my anxiety, which helps reduce stress, which means I have less episodes, so… yeah.”
“Well, take care of you first, always,” Nikolai says, patting your hand. “Cannot be healthy mama if not healthy you first.”
You can’t help but smile at him. “Don’t worry; I will.”
You run into Nikolai at the gazebo later that night. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
He starts when he hears your voice and takes the cigarette out of his mouth a little sheepishly. “Ah… bad habit from youth. Never quite vanquished.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” You start up a small breeze to carry the smoke away from the gazebo, then sit down next to him. “Something got you stressed, or…”
He shakes his head. “Not so much. Just occasionally get urge.” He glances over at you. “Do you?”
“Nah. Stuff like that’s bad for my anxiety. I try to stay away from it.”
He smiles ruefully. “Probably for best.”
Unbidden, memories from you most recent stay at your uncle’s place pop into your mind’s eye.
She always wanted a farm. Leave it to that woman to get what she wants in life.
You look up –Nikolai’s built a lot like Piotr—at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Konechno. Anything.”
“You… you know about my uncle and… Alexandra, right?”
He nods. “Da.”
“You seem… pretty comfortable with him being here.”
He raises an eyebrow with you, but he doesn’t seem alarmed or upset. “Should I not be?”
“No, I just…”
“You were expecting ‘jealous man?’”
“A little, I guess.”
Nikolai sighs and takes a long drag from his cigarette. He exhales a cloud of smoke, then taps some ash on a little tissue square set next to him on the bench. “As I see, Alexandra and I have good marriage. I trust her with all things –and I trust your uncle to act decent. This is not my first time meeting. I know what type he is.” He frowns a little. “If anything, I worry for him. Alexandra says he lives alone?”
You nod. “Yeah. I think he likes it that way.”
Nikolai shakes his head. “No one ever likes that way. They just tell themselves so.”
“Yeah, there’s truth in that.” You cock your head to one side when he sighs. “You know, I think you’re the only guy I know that would worry over the wellbeing of his wife’s ex.”
“If we cannot have compassion for those hurting, we cannot properly exist,” Nikolai says simply, as if that explains everything.
In a way, it does. And, not for the first time since the Rasputin family arrived, you’re completely floored by the overwhelming decency and kindness that each family member seems to exude.
A couple of mornings later, you wake up to Wade’s ringtone blaring as loud as it possibly can. You groan and crawl over your boyfriend to reach your phone –waking him up in the process, not that you’re awake enough to care at this precise moment—and answer the call. “You better have a good reason for waking me up this early.”
“Trust me, I do.”
The solemn urgency in Wade’s voice finishes waking you up; this isn’t a crank call or some random chat. He’s actually worried about something.
You sit up and push your hair out of your face. “What’s up? Is everything alright?”
“We’re all still going shooting today, right? With Pete’s family and everything. This morning.”
“Yeah—”
“Can I bring a friend along?”
You blink, surprised. “Uh… it’s kind of a family event…”
Piotr rubs at his face and groans. “What does he want?”
You cover the microphone end of your phone with your hand. “He wants to bring a friend to the shooting outing today.”
Piotr rolls his eyes. “Tell him no.”
You lower your hand. “Piotr says—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but apparently it’s the anniversary of Castle’s family’s death, and…” Wade goes silent for a moment. “People just… people shouldn’t have to be alone when dealing with that shit.”
You’re not particularly attached to Frank Castle. He’s saved your life, you’ve saved his, and you’ve been around enough assassins-for-hire that his Punisher getup doesn’t really scare you all that much, but sometimes you forget that the man lost everything. That he’s still trying to grapple with losing everything.
And you know, firsthand, that having good distractions around while dealing with heavy emotional trauma can be nothing short of life-saving.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Wade sighs. “Look, normally I wouldn’t give a shit, but… but after Ness, and Nate losing his family—”
“No, no, I get. Hang on.” You cover the microphone end again and look over at Piotr. “He wants to bring Frank Castle.”
Piotr’s eyes widen. “What?”
“It’s the anniversary of his family’s death, babe. Wade’s worried about him being alone.”
Piotr takes a moment to process the information, then sighs heavily and gets out of bed. “I’ll go ask.”
“Piotr’s checking with his family,” You tell Wade, lowering your hand once more. “I’ll text you the outcome.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“You gotta promise me something,” you add, trying to be as stern as you can. “Frank’s gotta be on his best behavior. Piotr and I both have family members tied up… some complicated shit. If you think Frank’s gonna start doing his ‘Punisher thing,’ then he can’t come.”
“I’ll keep him on a short leash. Figuratively. I’m pretty sure he’d cut my balls off if I tried to do it literally.”
“I mean… they’d always grow back.”
“Okay, but that would hurt.”
“I mean, it would… but can you imagine getting a picture of having Frank Castle on a literal, actual leash?”
Wade goes silent for a moment. “Holy shit, I just found my new project.”
The two of you derail into the rabbit hole of how to put the Punisher on an actual leash –and then the finer workings of if a lasso can count as a leash, because if it can’t that means Wade would have to get a collar of some sort on Frank, too, and more steps means more possible stabbings—long enough that you’re still on the phone when Piotr walks back into the room.
“Okay, what about those leashed backpacks that parents use for kids?” you suggest as Piotr opens the door to your bedroom once more.
“A solid idea. Wait, do they make those in the right size for emotionally constipated men with guns?”
“Fuck, I guess they don’t.”
Piotr just stares at you. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re trying to figure out how to get an actual leash on the Punisher,” you say. “Like, just for a photo. Not for anything kinky.”
“Excuse you, I’d be happy to try the kinky stuff, too,” Wade objects.
“Yeah, we’ll you’re insane.”
“You are both insane,” Piotr mutters. “And my family is fine with Frank coming.”
You relay the invitation to Wade, then hang up after promising to help him with the logistics of putting a leash on the Punisher. You slide out of the bed and wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s torso. “Thank you.”
He kisses the top of your head. “For what?”
“For humoring Wade. He was concerned about Frank after everything he went through with losing Vanessa.”
Piotr stays silent for a moment, then sighs heavily. “I did not even consider that. I was more thinking about Mr. Castle.”
You kiss his chest. “Well, still. Thank you.”
It’s mid-morning when Wade and Nate arrive with a particularly sullen, quiet Frank and—
“Oh!” You grin. “Karen! Hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”
Karen Page grins back at you, just as classically pretty as you remember from the night you bled on her couch. “I figured I could use the practice, and Wade said I wouldn’t be intruding.”
Which is basically code for ‘I’m here for Frank,’ but you’re not about to point that out. “Not at all! Let me walk you guys out to the range. Piotr’s already out there with his family.”
“I didn’t exactly take him as the… ‘gun type,’” Karen says as she follows you around the side of the house.
“I think it’s more of a Russian thing,” you say. “Different attitudes towards firearms. And I don’t think he minds guns as much as he minds…” You let your voice trail off, then cut your eyes towards Wade a couple times.
Karen nods knowingly. “So what’s it like meeting his family?”
“Honestly? It’s been great. They’re a lot of fun to be around. Although, I’ve eaten so much food in the past week. I mean, I should’ve seen it coming since Piotr’s parents run a farm back in Siberia, but still.”
“That sounds like heaven,” Karen says.
“It really has been,” you agree. “How’s your week been?”
She lays out the basic pieces of a story she’s been working on –another corruption case in the Senate—but you can tell her focus in more on Frank than anywhere else. Her gaze darts over to him every few seconds, like she’s trying to make sure he isn’t going to make a break for it.
She shifts the focus back to you –well, the Institute, more accurately—after a few minutes, right about when you notice that Frank’s been tensing up the more she’s talked about her article.
And that basically reaffirms in your mind that the flirting and sheer connection between Frank and Karen you’d witnessed back when they’d rescued you wasn’t a product of your concussion, which is…
Interesting.
“We do have a few year-round residents,” you confirm. “Most the X-Men actually keep their own apartments and come in for two-week long shifts or emergencies. The people who stay here permanently are either kids that have been kicked out of their homes or picked up from orphanages or the foster system, or adults that can’t get their own place because their mutation makes that impossible for them.”
“How would a mutation get in the way of renting their own place?” Karen asks, frowning.
“Well, any mutation that affects physical appearance usually deters most possible letters from, y’know, letting. So, people with abnormally colored skin –think fluorescent green—or spikes protruding from their face or fur… you get the idea.”
Karen’s frown deepens. “But… they’re still people. It shouldn’t matter how they look.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to our reality.” You grimace. “It is what it is. It’s why we all look out for each other like we do.”
Karen nods. “What about you and Piotr? Do you guys live here full time?”
“Piotr’s a teacher during the school year and on active training roster for the younger mutants –his armor makes him impervious to just about anything, which is handy when a kid might wind up accidentally chucking a fireball at your face—so he stays here full time, and I…” You shrug. “I’m here with him.”
“That’s right. You mentioned not being on good terms with your parents.”
It floors you, just a little, that Karen Page –who you’ve only known for a handful of hours, during which you were concussed and bled on her couch—would remember a little detail like that.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Wade interjects, ceasing his efforts in talking Frank’s ears off long enough to insert himself in your conversation with Karen. “I don’t know too many parents who call their kids just to say they hate them.”
All you can do is shrug when Karen shoots you a shocked look. “It is what it is. At least I don’t have to live with them anymore.” You can hear the sounds of Piotr talking with his family and your uncle, and you’ve never been more relieved to be approaching a group of people in your life. “We’re here. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Guys—” You step into the clearing where the range’s been set up. “This is Karen and Frank.”
It occurs to you precisely three seconds too late that you should’ve used an alias for Frank. Oh well. Can’t do anything now. You clear your throat and continue on. “Karen, Frank, these are Piotr’s parents, Alexandra and Nikolai, his siblings, Illyana and Mikhail, and my uncle—” you blank on a name until you remember that he told Wade to call him ‘Andrew,’ and you really hope that Karen and Frank don’t make too much of your pause “—Andrew.”
“How do you two know each other?” Mikhail asks, gesturing between you and Karen.
“Oh, you know, the usual. I got kidnapped, escaped, bled on her couch.” You shrug. “The basic foundations of any good friendship.”
Alexandra smirks. “Naturally.” Her gaze flits to Frank, who is very carefully keeping to the edge of the group and looking at everything but the people present. “Do you have any experience with firearms?”
Frank briefly –reluctantly—meets Alex’s gaze and nods. “Marine Corps. Former Scout sniper.”
Alex nods back, smirk completely unmoved by that little tidbit of information. “Good. You might be able to keep up.”
And that, out of everything, is what draws Frank out, gets his attention. He actually looks shocked for a moment, at the sheer brazenness of the comment, then smirks back. Just a little.
It’s better than the shell-shocked look he’d been wearing when he’d arrived.
“Only one way to find out, ma’am.”
You’re not unfamiliar with shooting guns; between Wade, Nate, and your uncle, you’ve got a decent amount of experience. You know how to handle one safely and fire it with pretty decent accuracy. Granted, shooting’s not your favorite way to spend your time –though it is, in your opinion, a decent way to blow off some anger.
Point stands: you shoot. You know how to shoot. You know how to handle a firearm safely –which, frankly, is what you care about most.
Second standing point: You’ve been around Nate and Wade long enough to know that some people are very serious –Nate—and enthused –Wade—about shooting, and like to make quite the event of target practice. You’re usually not opposed to such events –especially when Wade’s involved—because that implies you get to shoot fun targets, like half rotted watermelons or gallons of milk that have been emptied and subsequently filled with glitter.
But sweet holy fuck almighty, you’ve never seen a shooting event quite like this.
There are so many guns. More than you can count, but you’re pretty sure between your uncle, Wade, Nate, Alex, Mikhail, and Frank that there’s at least fifty different types.
Leave it to a group of mercenaries and assassins to pull out all the stops.
Also on the list of surprising things is that Piotr is a pretty decent shot; he sticks most to hunting rifles or shotguns, but still.
“I had to learn back home,” he says by way of explanation. “To keep farm safe from predators.”
“What?” You ask, all too enthralled to know more. “Like, bears?”
“Sometimes. Wolves, also. A tiger, once.”
You gape at him. “You saw a tiger? Like, outside of a zoo?”
He shrugs, as if he hadn’t just said one of the most mind-blowing things you’ve ever heard. “They are native to Siberia. Sometimes, juveniles come into town limits looking for food.”
“It is not a common experience,” Alexandra adds as she loads a pistol. “But it happens.”
“So, wait.” You frown. “Did you shoot the tiger?”
“Nyet, nyet, nyet,” Mikhail interjects before gesturing over his head with his hand. “Over. To scare.”
“That’s still amazing, though,” Karen says. “We only have tigers in zoos, over here.”
“I once threw myself into a tiger exhibit!” Wade adds as he adjusts the scope on one of his rifles.
“I thought I read about something like that in the news,” Frank mutters as he loads various clips.
“Why would you throw self into tiger display?” Illyana asks, expression rightfully confused.
“It was a low point, I admit.”
You can’t help but chuckle as you take it all in. You love your weird little family –Frank and Karen too, however they’re meant to fit in—such as they are.
You hang back and watch for the most part –and so does Piotr, seemingly more content to sit and observe with you once he’s got his ‘practice’ in. You laugh with everyone else when Illyana fucks up several of her shots and gets a gentle scolding from her mother that seems more worried than anything else, then try to ignore the churning pain in your chest when you watch Alex put her arms around her daughter and kiss the top of her blonde head.
It's what you never got, growing up; as much as you don’t want to be jealous, envious, you are.
“We’re gonna love the fuck out of our kids,” you tell Piotr quietly as Wade and Frank put up a new set of targets. “We’re gonna frickin’ smother them with hugs and love and kisses and everything.”
He puts his arms around you, almost protectively, and kisses the top of your head. “Konechno.”
Of course. Like it’s an automatic given. Like there’s not even another conceivable option. Of course the two of you are going to love your kids more than anything else.
You close your eyes and tip your head back against his chest as emotion –grief, pain, rage—threatens to overwhelm you.
Piotr wipes away your tears before there’s a risk of anyone seeing them.
The ‘extended target practice’ concludes with is arguably the most entertaining gun-related event you’ve ever seen and will ever see in your life: a super sniper shoot-off.
Frank, Alex, Mikhail, Wade, Nate, and your uncle all prep their various guns, and then it’s on.
Nate and your uncle are first out, surprisingly enough. Granted, the margin for error is extremely narrow, but you still expected them to make a little further.
Wade’s next, followed by Mikhail –and, now that you’re thinking about it, it all makes sense considering that the two of them use sniper rifles more regularly in their ‘lines of work.’
And that just leaves Frank and Alexandra, and whoo boy. Put two people who are equally stubborn and equally proud of their skills as snipers, and what do you get?
Correct answer: a very drawn-out, involved competition that eventually boils down to the two of them actually measuring the diameter of the holes where the bullets hit the targets –and, to make things worse, they both shot through the same hole five times—to see who had more deviation in their aim.
“How much longer are they gonna be?” You ask. The rest of you are already packed and ready to head back to the mansion for lunch.
“It could be a while,” Karen admits quietly.
Illyana nods in agreement, basically settling that you all might be out here until sundown before Frank and Alex find an answer that satisfies them both.
“Moya lyubov’,” Nikolai calls out.
“Terpeniye,” Alexandra says back –which, considering that she’s already said it five times, you’re figuring is the Russian equivalent of ‘just a minute’ or something similar. “Ha! You have the higher deviation! I win.”
“Did you use your telekinesis to keep things tighter?” your uncle asks in a lazy drawl.
The look of utter indignation and betrayal on Alex’s face is priceless –and so is the look of shock on Frank’s.
“You’ve been cheating,” he accuses.
“I have not!”
“There’s no other explanation! You’ve been using your mind shit to keep the shots tighter!”
Alex smirks. “Or, perhaps, I am just a better shot than you.”
Frank narrows his eyes at her. “The day I buy that is the day I put my hair up in a fucking man bun.”
And that is an amazing concept in and of itself, but the way Karen chokes on a snort tells you that there’s more to that than meets the eye—
Alex just takes a hair elastic off her wrist and holds it out to Frank. “Start pulling it back.”
Frank grins –and it’s the most human and not haunted you’ve seen him look all day—and shakes his head. “Nah. There’s only one way to settle this.”
And it’s easy to see where that’s going, judging by the looks on Frank and Alex’s faces, and since the rest of you actually want to each lunch before the turn of the century, you all swoop in to keep the two of them from putting up new targets and going at it again.
Karen actually shoves Frank away from the table with the rest of the guns and ammo on it. “No, no. I want to eat lunch. We’re going inside.”
“Okay, okay –Christ, let me put my shit away first.”
Wade shoots you a look when he sees the small grin Frank’s sporting, then raises his nonexistent eyebrows when you nod back at him.
Nikolai’s already whisked his wife away from the table, leaving Illyana and Mikhail to put her stuff away. They’re bickering in Russian at each other, and you’d be concerned if the expression on Nick’s face wasn’t one of complete and utter adoration.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch your uncle just barely holding in a pained grimace. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest, and you try to think of some excuse about some of you heading back to the house to start lunch early –really, just anything that’ll give him an excuse to duck out without drawing attention to his departure—
“So, Y/N. Wade and Nate are telling me that you are most exceptional fighter.”
You look over at Mikhail, distracted from your internal reverie. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” You shrug. “I try.”
Piotr’s eyes narrow. “Mikhail—”
The eldest Rasputin waves him off, relaxed and indifferent. “So, that makes me wonder: just how good are you?”
It’s easy to hear the challenge without him actually saying it.
You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him. “Good enough to kick your ass.”
A chorus of chuckles goes through the group –and Piotr pinches the bridge of his nose. “Nyet, nyet. Absolutely not. We are going inside and eating—”
“Da, which means all more reason to do this now,” Mikhail argues. “No one wants to spar on full stomach.”
“You mean, you don’t want to get your ass kicked on a full stomach,” your uncle interjects, smirking. “Because that’s what’ll happen.”
Alexandra scoffs. “Biased much?”
“No more than you.”
It devolves quickly from there, everyone taking sides –Nate, your uncle, and Wade all back you, while Mikhail’s family is quick to vouch for his prowess—while Piotr does his best to get a handle on the situation and shoots daggers at his older brother.
And it’s the first time you’ve seen Piotr get downright angry with someone that isn’t Wade –sure, you and he have fought, but he’s never turned the full brunt of his wrath on you like he has occasionally with Wade—and the fact that it’s his brother makes it all the more…
Interesting.
Weird.
Concerning.
A mix of the three.
And then Frank takes his wallet out of his back pocket, and whatever control your darling boyfriend had over the situation evaporates.
He pulls out a couple bills and holds them between two of his fingers. “Twenty on Y/N.”
And now there’s money on the table –Wade tries to make his bet in cocaine, and fortunately Nathan gets him to shup the fuck up before Piotr can take his head off—and you’ve never been that good at backing down from a challenge.
You squeeze Piotr’s hand, trying to reassure him and get him to relax a little. “C’mon. Five minutes. It’ll be fun.”
The group of you walk out to the back lawn –far enough away from the house that you shouldn’t be at risk of destroying any windows, but close enough that someone can easily get the first aid kit if stuff goes wrong.
“Five minutes!” you shout at Mikhail. “Do your fucking worst!” You float off the ground, careful to keep an eye on the eldest Rasputin; it’s a go-to move of yours; most of your opponents can’t levitate themselves or uses their abilities against you as easily if you fly, and you’re not above using such an easy advantage.
Mikhail smirks –then winks out of sight before appearing right in front of you and latching onto your shoulders like a koala.
“Shit!” You bob up and down as you try to get him off you, then spin yourself around with a burst of air until he physically can’t hold on.
He manages to teleport closer to the ground before he makes contact, fortunately, but he still tumbles a fair distance. He pushes himself onto his feet as Wade cackles like a maniac, then disappears from view again.
You’re ready for him this time, and create a vortex of air around you before he can reappear. Sure enough, he gets sucked up in the air currents before he can grab on you; he swears a blue streak –and you know he’s actually swearing because of the grimace that flashes across Piotr’s face—in Russian as he plummets back to the ground.
You smirk, feeling victorious and enormously pleased with yourself, as you watch Mikhail brush chunks of dirt and grass off his arms and legs. “That the best you got?”
He narrows his eyes at you –he’s starting to look a little pissed off, actually—and his eyes start glowing.
“That’s not good,” you mutter to yourself.
And, sure enough, it isn’t.
Bright, glowing strands of copper-colored energy appear at the ends of Mikhail’s hands. He lets them grow into orbs for half a minute –lets them charge up—and then launches one at you.
You let the bolt of energy zing past you –then gasp when it stops in its tracks a few yards away and starts hurtling towards you again. “Shit!”
You’re forced to go on the defensive, using your flight abilities to evade Mikhail’s energy “missiles.” You’re faster than them, fortunately, but he starts peppering the air with various smaller ones, meaning that there’s almost no room to fly at all.
You narrow your eyes down at him as you narrowly avoid having your elbow singed by one of the bolts. Best to target the root instead of the leaves. You fly upwards, make sure that you get yourself positioned so your plan doesn’t backfire suddenly –and then let yourself freefall.
It doesn’t take long to pick up speed. You can actually see Mikhail’s eyes physically widen as you hurtle towards him.
You start flying again mere feet away from the ground. The sudden rush of air created by your move sends a current directly at Mikhail.
He flies back with a grunt and tumbles across the lawn like a hyperactive gymnast.
And, sure enough, some of –not all of them, but enough to prove your theory—the energy orbs fizzle out.
You smirk to yourself as you soar back into the air. Strategy acquired. Goal: kick much ass.
And you do. Even with his ability to teleport, he can’t do that without losing more of his ‘missiles.’ He either has to get knocked around by your constant dive-bombing, or teleport out of the way, and either option puts him at a disadvantage.
You’re winning. You can hear Wade cheering you on from the sidelines. You grin to yourself as you make another pass at Mikhail –he swears as he teleports out of the line of fire—and soar back up towards the sky.
And it’s not that you have to win. You don’t have anything extraordinary to prove. But, by your own admission, you’re too competitive for your own good, and kicking Mikhail’s ass is actually kinda easy—
And then he teleports right in front of you and unleashes a massive burst of energy almost directly in your face.
You’re going too fast to stop or get out of the way in time, so you grit your teeth, make a shield out of air, and hope for the best.
There’s a massive boom that rattles your teeth. You feel yourself get knocked back, but you still feel like you’re flying—
But you can hear someone screaming like they’re watching their kid die in front of them… and it kinda sounds like Piotr…
But you’re still flying? Or, at least you’re still in the air…
Why does your head hurt so much? And why does something smell… burnt?
You manage to open your eyes long enough to see a massive green blur zooming towards you, which you vaguely manage to identify as the back lawn. Oh… shit.
And then a set of arms are wrapping around you.
How you get to the ground is a mystery to you, but suddenly you’re there and your boyfriend’s hovering over you.
Except he’s blurrier than usual. And since when could he make duplicates of himself?
You can see his lips moving, but you can’t really hear what he’s saying.
And suddenly, you’re tired. Straight up exhausted. And your whole body’s kinda numb, which isn’t the most reassuring sensation, but it does mean that if you’re uncomfortable you can’t feel it, and a nap is sounding amazing right now.
You let your eyes close. Just for a minute.
It’s dark. The panes in the windows are an oil slick, dark in solidarity with the night outside.
There’s a single light on in the room, a bedside lamp. It paints the room in a weak gold hue, the only contrast and respite from the oppressive, endless darkness beyond the windows.
The quilt on the bed is cream-colored with age and soft from years of use and washing. Green, yellow, blue, and purple flowers gaze up at you from the fabric surface, the hodge-podge of fabrics almost making the blanket look like it’s rippling.
Beyond the closed door, you can hear voices. They’re hushed, quiet.
Angry.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
“You can’t possibly imagine the struggles we’ve gone through with her—”
“No. No. Don’t paint yourself as a fucking martyr. You’re the scum of the earth and you know it.”
It’s the door, though, that gives it all away.
What am I doing in my uncle’s house?
“She’s waking up.”
Your eyes flutter open. You wince at the bright lights, the glare of which are not helped by the impeccably white walls.
You’re in the Institute’s medical wing.
Dr. McCoy smiles down at you. “There she is. How are you feeling?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Brain’s bein’ icepicked. Lights’re too brigh’.”
“Let’s get those turned down a bit, then.”
While you wait for the lights to settle on more friendly terms of existence, you realize that someone’s holding your hand. You squeeze the hand holding yours –and it’s instantly recognizable, there’s only one person in the mansion with hands that big.
Piotr kisses your temple gently. “Myshka.”
You tip your head towards him and force yourself to open your eyes.
He looks wrecked. He’s paler than usual, and his blue eyes are rimmed with red.
“Hey.” You squeeze your hand. “Hey. I’m okay.”
He grimaces slightly. “You got hit in face with an energy pulse. If your uncle had not caught you, you would’ve hit the ground.”
You frown as you try to recollect what happened.
Shooting with the Rasputin family. Your uncle. Wade and Nate. Frank. Karen. Check.
Frank and Alex getting into the mother of all sniper shoot-offs, which only stopped because the rest of you forced them to give it up. Check.
Mikhail throwing down the mother of all gauntlets. Check.
And after that… Presumably, something had to happen after that. Specifically, you getting hit in the face, because that’s what Piotr said happened, and you know he wouldn’t lie to you.
“You might not remember all of it,” Hank says as he finishes turning down the lights. “Which is normal with head traumas. Can you walk me through your day, up to most recent thing you remember before waking up here?” He nods as you rattle off the day thus far –you leave out whatever weird dream you had between getting hit and waking up here, because you don’t know how to factor that in or why you can even remember it. “Alright, your recollection’s pretty good. Which is a good sign –and, admittedly, not that surprising since we’ve learned about your latent ‘damage resistance’ mutation.”
You frown suddenly and start patting your face. “I still have my brows, right? Piotr said somethin’ ‘bout gettin’ hit with an energy pulse—”
Dr. McCoy chuckles. “Your eyebrows are present and accounted for.”
“Okay, good. I didn’t wanna figure out how to draw ‘em on.”
“Understandable.” He asks you a few more questions –how much pain are you in, are you feeling any tingling sensations anywhere, do you feel like you can breathe alright—before nodding once more. “Okay. I just need to do a series of test to make sure your body’s handling the trauma alright –just to see how your nervous system is responding to the trauma—and then you should be ready to be discharged.”
After making sure your body isn’t on the verge of imploding, or whatever the fuck else might happen, Hank discharges you with some basic pain meds, a list of symptoms to keep an eye on while you recover, and strict instructions to Piotr to not let you fly or do anything too strenuous for the next few days.
Which basically means you’re gonna be mother-henned for the next few days, but you can’t exactly say you mind. Your head hurts, and you’re still fuzzy from getting hit so hard. Having someone watching your back is comforting, really.
The sun’s still high in the sky as you and Piotr amble back towards the main part of the mansion. Apparently, you’d only been out for twenty minutes. Lucky you.
Everyone’s waiting for the two of you in the rec room –including Frank and Karen, which is surprising but not unwelcome.
Mikhail stands as you walk in, looking a little sheepish—
You squint when you realize he’s got a partially black eye. “Did I do that?”
“Nope!” Wade says, popping the ‘p.’ “Piotr did! Hauled off on him as soon as Fuzzy Lumpkins took you away for a healing session.”
You shoot Piotr shocked look, but he’s focused on Mikhail, borderline glaring at his older brother.
And Mikhail’s glaring right back at him, and suddenly the room’s filled to the brim with crackling tension.
You watch the two of them for a few seconds, then do your best to smooth things out. “O-kay. I’m hungry. Has anyone else eaten yet?”
Nate shakes his head. “We were waiting to hear how you were.”
“Al-right.” You nudge Piotr a little when he doesn’t pick up on the conversational cues –or, more importantly, stop glaring at Mikhail. “Let’s get some lunch, yeah?”
His demeanor shifts instantly as he bends down to kiss the top of your head; it’s almost like he’s a completely different person. “Konechno.”
You purse your lips a little as you follow him to the kitchen. And we’re in full on passive-aggressive mode. Great.
“So, you’re both mutants.”
Your uncle nods at Karen’s statement.
Instead of cramming into the kitchen or the breakfast nook, you’d all opted to use one of the dining rooms used by the students during the school year while you ate lunch. You’d half expected Frank and Karen to leave as soon as they knew you were in decent shape, but they’d opted to at least eat lunch before heading out.
(You’d also half expected Frank to sit away from literally everyone else, but Karen seemed to bring out his best behavior, which –again—is interesting.)
“And you both can fly?” She frowns as she wipes some ketchup from her sandwich off her fingers with a napkin. “I thought the X-gene randomized mutations.”
“It can,” your uncle says with a shrug. “But if there’s a long enough direct lineage, sometimes recurring traits show up.”
“So, the mutation must’ve been in your family for a long time, then.”
“As long as I can remember.”
Karen nods, then smiles. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fly, all on my own. If I’d woken up one morning, as a little girl, and been able to fly, I don’t think my parents would’ve been able to get me to walk again.”
Admittedly, your initial experience with discovering your powers hadn’t gone as idyllically; not even rose-tinted glasses could change that.
But flying, in and of itself? It’s the most amazing sensation in the world.
You grin—
You’re shivering. You’re under a pile of blankets, and heat is blasting at you from the car’s air vents, and you can’t. Get. Warm.
The ground is rocky and uneven under the car’s tires. It makes you bounce in the back seat, which makes you dizzy. You cry as your stomach churns violently. “I’m gonna throw up!”
“Do not puke in the car!” Your mother’s voice. “Just close your eyes and breathe through your nose.”
You do as you’re told; you keep your mouth screwed shut and try to fall asleep. It’s dark outside, heavy clouds covering the stars and moon and plunging the world into an inky abyss.
The car keeps bouncing you and your stomach. You can feel the bile creeping up your throat.
The car lurches to a stop and the door next to your seat is flung open. Strong hands unbuckle you and lift you out of your car seat.
You puke on the grass. On someone’s shoes.
Your mother panics. “Dammit, Y/N! Don’t—”
“It’s okay.” Your uncle’s voice is shaky, but his hands are gentle as he keeps your hair out of your face. “She’s alright. What happened to her?”
“We tried to fix her—”
“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?”
You blink –and you’re in the dining room, and everyone’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Huh?”
Dr. McCoy is kneeling next to you, frowning as he watches your eyes and color. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“We… were just talking about flying.” You frown. “That… that just happened.”
“You were gone for ten minutes,” Nate says quietly.
“Even I’m not that bad at keeping track of time,” Wade adds, but his smile is forced at the edges.
A wave of cold dread runs down your spine, and reach blindly for Piotr’s hand. It’s warm and solid against yours, and you try to keep yourself grounded on the sensation of his hand holding yours. Don’t panic. Panicking won’t help anything. “What does it mean?”
Frank clears his throat. “Could mean nothing,” he says quietly. “Blackouts can happen with head injuries.”
Dr. McCoy nods. “I think I’m going to extend your rest period, just as a precaution. And—” he looks over at Piotr “—someone needs to check in with her every hour, just to see how her memory is and how she’s doing. If she has more blackouts, record the symptoms, how long they go for, that sort of thing.”
“Da.” Piotr squeezes your hand, then leans over and kisses your cheek. “Everything will be alright.”
You lay your head on his shoulder by way of response. I really hope so.
Karen and Frank head out right after you all finish lunch –with Frank promising Alex that there’d be a proper rematch in the future.
And, unsurprisingly, Piotr practically whisks you away to get some proper rest as soon as the door shuts behind them. He actually carries you up to your shared room –which you aren’t complaining about because walking is for chumps—and sets you carefully, gently on the bed.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep after getting a concussion,” you ponder.
“That is myth,” he says. “And the healers fixed any concussion you might have had. They just cannot fix temporary trauma from impact.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” You squint your eyes as you mull it over. “I guess.”
He kisses your forehead. “Besides, I mostly brought you up here so you could relax… and so we could spend some time together.”
You smile up at him. “Well, that I’m not opposed to. Can we watch a movie?”
“Konechno.” As he makes to retrieve his DVD case from one of the bookshelves, the main door to your room swings open.
Mikhail peers in. “Am I interrupting?”
“It’s called knocking,” Piotr says bluntly, tone flat. “Try it.”
You actually gape at him. “Babe!”
“It is good manners—”
“Yeah, and what are you doing?”
He actually hangs his head at that, looking like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I…”
Mikhail just holds up his hands. He doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t look like he wants to start a fight, either. “I just wanted to apologize.” He offers you a sheepish smile. “For, ah—” He taps the side of his own head. “Doing that.”
You shrug. “Hey, it’s sparring. Accidents happen.”
Piotr lets out an angry huff. “Accidents happen. Ego trips are planned.”
Before you can say anything, Mikhail groans and rolls his eyes. “Again with that! You never give me doubt of benefit! None!”
“Your ego,” Piotr snaps, eyes sparking with anger. “Has caused plenty of problems. Why should this be any different!”
“You think I would try to hurt her?”
“I think you would prioritize winning over common sense!”
Mikhail sneers at his younger brother. “Well, not all of us can be you.”
“Okay, enough,” you growl out. “Both of you.” You sigh and rub your temples –your head’s throbbing, but you suspect it has more to do with listening to them than with your injury. “Babe, would you mind making me some Gatorade while I talk to Mikhail for a minute?”
Piotr just crosses his arms over his chest. “Someone needs to stay with you. To keep track of your symptoms.”
“Are you serious?” Mikhail growls. “I can watch her for five minutes!”
“How do I know I can trust you, after today?”
“Are you fucking kidding me!”
“Langu—”
“Okay,” you interject sternly. “I swear more than him. Quit being petty.”
Piotr purses his lips and exhales sharply. “I told him not to start sparring—”
“And the two of you need to work out whatever problems you have on your own. I’m not refereeing or watching.” You give Piotr the gentlest pointed look you can. “Sweetheart. Five minutes. Please.”
He grimaces, but nods. “Khorosho.” He crosses the room quickly, then plants a slow, sweet kiss against your forehead. “I’ll be back quickly.”
“She said five minutes, asshole,” Mikhail mutters from his position by the door. His expression sours as Piotr’s shoulder clips his own on his way out –which, despite his size, you can tell was deliberate on your boyfriend’s part—and grumbles something under his breath in Russian before looking at you. “You wanted chatting?”
“Just to make sure we’re good.” You pat on a spot at the end of the bed lightly. “Come on. I don’t bite.”
“I hit you, not other way around,” he points out as he sits down on the bed.
“Look, I might not remember the fight, but I refuse to believe that you just trounced me.”
He laughs at that and relaxes a little. “Da, da. You, ah, ‘kicked my ass,’ as they say here. I seriously underestimated you.” He pauses for a moment, then hangs his head a little. “And pridurok is right. I let ego control me.”
“Okay, one, I know what the Russian word for ‘idiot’ is; Piotr uses it to describe Wade all the time.” You smirk when he grins sheepishly. “Two, whatever ego thing you’ve got it fine, at least in this situation. Sparring’s sparring. I know that whenever I step into a fight, I run the risk of getting hurt. I didn’t think this situation would be any different.”
Mikhail frowns. “But… if I had kept in better check—”
“Look, Mikhail,” you say earnestly. “Were you trying to hurt me?”
He shakes his head. “Nyet. Absolutely not.”
“Then we’re good, in my book. Trust me, I’ve had a lot worse for way pettier reasons.”
He eyes you warily. “So… you are not upset?”
You shake your head –well, as much as you can, anyway. “Not about the sparring. If I’m upset about anything, honestly, it’s about how you treat Piotr.”
He grimaces. “Things… have never been good between he and I. We… we do not see eyes to eyes on many things.”
“I gathered. You seem to go out of your way to antagonize him.”
The grimace deepens. “I know. I… I do not always know how to stop it.” He smiles bitterly. “Piotr has always gotten along better with everyone. Mamochka, papochka, Illyana, cousins, girls, boys –everyone. I think…” He winces and swallows hard. “I think I am just too sensitive.”
You study him for a minute before commenting. “I’d wager you’ve got some insecurities to work on, but I think your ‘sensitivity levels’ are just fine.”
He manages a small smile at that. “Spasibo.”
There’s a series of heavy footsteps in the hallway, and then Piotr’s walking back into the room with a water bottle full of Gatorade in hand. He stops just past the door way, clearly a little caught off guard by his brother’s new position in the room.
Mikhail nods at you and stands quickly before Piotr can say anything. “I leave you to it.”
You shake your head, just a little, as he vanishes from view. “I’m never going to get used to that.” You accept your bottle of Gatorade from your boyfriend with a smile. “Thanks, honey.”
He returns to the task of retrieving his DVD case, but it’s not hard to tell something’s on his mind.
“I can hear you thinking, you know.”
He huffs a little laugh at that. “I thought my sister was supposed to be telepath, not you.”
You humor him with a small, fond chuckle. “C’mon, babe. What’s eating at you?”
He grimaces as he crosses back over to the bed and sits down next to you. “I was not… fair. To Mikhail.”
“Yeah, you were kind of an asshole to him. What is it with you two, anyway? You’ve been at each other’s throats since he got here.”
Piotr’s lips quirk into a puzzled frown as he runs his fingertips over the DVD case cover. “Mikhail and I… we are oil and water. We have never gotten along. I think he is arrogant and careless, he says I am controlling and judgmental…”
They’re both right, to an extent, you think to yourself.
Piotr exhales heavily, and his eyes take on a glassy look that tips you off to the fact that he’s recalling some really unpleasant memories. “Mikhail… when we were younger, he used to tease me until I gave him what he wanted. Or I snapped. Or he would put me in uncomfortable, dangerous situations to get a rise out of me…”
You reach out and curl your fingers around his hand.
He smiles, just a little, and lifts your hand to his lips so he can kiss it. “Where I grow puzzled is… I can remember times when he would be… subdued. Gloomy. And during these times, I know we got on better. And then he would get back to his wild self and teasing would start all over.”
You squeeze his hand comfortingly. “Look, babe, I’m not gonna pretend I’ve got all the answers to this situation. I didn’t grow up with siblings –and Wade, as awesome as he is, doesn’t exactly fill the ticket for direct knowledge in this sorta thing. But, if there’s anything you need to do, it’s actually communicate with Mikhail instead of letting him walk all over you until you snap. You need to set boundaries.”
“I have tried,” Piotr insists. “He just ignores them.”
“Then you need to enforce them,” you add on. “Look, sweetheart, you’re great at talking a good game, but you’re shitty with the follow-through. Case in point, Wade. You like to talk healthy behavior with him, but eight times out of ten you don’t actually enforce any of the boundaries you talk about having.”
“Killing people—”
“Isn’t what I’m talking about, Piotr. The jokes, the language, the pranks. Yeah, Wade’s an adult and can do what he wants, but so are you. Look, what I’m trying to say is that you need to talk to Mikhail, and then you need to stick to your guns if he tries to ignore your boundaries. And if he keeps doing that, then maybe you just need to give him the heave-ho.”
Piotr hangs his head a little. “It is not that simple.”
“Sorry.” You wriggle over to him and wrap your arms around his waist. “I wish I could help more.”
“You have helped immensely.” He kisses your forehead. “You called me out on my poor behavior, and you have given me much to consider.” He kisses your cheek, then your lips, then taps the DVD case with his hand. “How about we watch movie now, da?”
You smile up at him. “Sounds great.”
“So. I have question. What qualifies as ‘worse’ than unyielding concussion?”
“Severe,” Alexandra corrects from where she’s chopping vegetables for dinner. “Not ‘unyielding.’”
After relaxing for a few hours, Piotr had agreed that you’d be fine to hang out during dinner prep.
Key words being ‘hang out,’ seeing as he’s banned you from all knife-and-heat related duties until you stop having blackouts.
At any rate, you’re in the kitchen with Piotr’s family, Wade, Nate, your uncle, and your darling boyfriend, perched on one of the barstools while everyone else works on getting dinner together.
(Correction: everyone else sans Wade because Wade is also banned from dinner prep duties; unlike you, however, his ban is indefinite for reasons Piotr refuses to mention and Wade laughs too hard make elaborating possible whenever you ask.)
Mikhail jerks at her with his thumb. “That. And does it have anything to do with the ‘episodes?’”
Piotr goes ramrod straight so fast it’s a shock he doesn’t hurt himself. The look he shoots his older brother is beyond murderous.
You hold up your hands in a placating gesture before he can verbally –or literally, it’s anyone’s guess at this point—rip Mikhail’s head off. “It’s alright, he can ask. And… uh, I guess it does? I don’t know. It’s a little complicated.”
“Does it have to do with why your parents are not present?” Illyana pipes up.
“I guess?” You let out a slightly nervous laugh and shrug. “It’s… uh… really complicated to explain. I’m not exactly on speaking terms with them. With anyone where I grew up, actually.”
Nikolai frowns. “No ‘old friends?’ Classmates?”
You shake your head. “My mom schooled me at home. I spent most of my life inside the same four walls. I, uh, grew up in an anti-mutant town.”
“Nyet,” Mikhail says, forehead wrinkling. “That does not make sense. You are mutant. Why would your parents… not just move once you presented?”
You grimace. “They’re anti-mutant, too.”
“But… you are mutant and their child.”
And it strikes you that none of the Rasputin children can relate to what you’ve gone through. They grew up in a home where their differences were celebrated –where they were even modeled for them by Alexandra.
“It’s not always enough,” your uncle supplies after a moment of tense silence. “Some people value their beliefs more than those around them.”
“Why not let you live with him?” Illyana points at your uncle. “You are both mutants. It would make sense.”
“I was never in a position to raise a kid,” your uncle says grimly –which gets a sharp look from Alex, but she doesn’t question him.
“I doubt they would’ve let me go, anyway,” you say with a bitter smile. “I tried running away from home. A lot.”
“What happened?” Mikhail asked. “Obviously, they did not let you go…”
You shrug when his voice trails off. “Got hunted through the woods by men with guns until they caught me and dragged me back to town. Or I accidentally killed them; I had a lot of trouble controlling my mutation when I was younger.”
Alex actually drops her knife. “They did that you? They really…”
Nikolai’s eyes get shiny. “Who… who does that to a child?”
“The people from where I grew up, apparently.” You shrug with one shoulder. “I’m just glad it’s behind me.”
“What about ‘episodes?’” Illyana blurts out. “You said they connected?”
You tap your fingers against the countertop. Talking about your past has never been easy, and right now’s no exception. At least they aren’t blaming me for what happened. “Sometimes, I have hallucinations about the shit that happened to me where I grew up. It’s like I’m actually back there, going through all of it again. When that happens, I break from reality and lose control of my powers.”
Illyana darts around to the other side of the counter and wraps her arms around your shoulders. “That sounds scary.”
You smile and pat her forearm. “It can be. But I’m getting better. And I’ve got tools to help me get through them.”
The kitchen stays silent for a moment, then Mikhail clears his throat and braces himself against the counter on his elbows. “I think… all of that is definitely worse than concussion.”
You smirk. “Hey, I know what I—”
You’re shaking so hard you can’t walk. Your legs keep giving out with every step you take.
Gravel crunches underneath your sneakers. Little ladybugs light up red and pink on the side, though they don’t do much to abate the suffocating darkness.
You’re sweating, like you’ve been sitting in a hot room all day, but you feel cold. And you can’t stop shaking.
Your father’s hand is a vice on your arm. “Quit dawdling! We need to go!”
“I’m trying! My legs feel weird!”
“Don’t talk back to me—”
Your mother shoves you into your car seat and forcefully buckles you in. “Start the car. I’ve got her.”
Her voice is calm, which must mean everything’s alright, right?
You blink, and you’re keeled over on the lawn outside your uncle’s house, puking up everything in your guts and then some.
You can hear him screaming. He’s angry.
“What did you do? What did you fucking do?”
You start crying. Tears fall onto the blades of glass, glittering like stars. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
He scoops you up into his arms and runs into his house with you. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault, I’ve got you.”
You blink again, and everything seems fuzzy. Something’s pressing against your arm, and several hands are holding you against something soft and warm.
“We need to stabilize her—”
“Her brain’s been gouged with the psychic equivalent of a serving fork, there’s no stabilizing that.”
“Find a fucking way or you’re out of a fucking job!”
Your head hurts. Your chest hurts. Your everything hurts.
You try and try to squirm away from the ache.
A pair of massive hands press against each side of your head, holding you in place. “It’s okay.” Your uncle’s voice. “I know it hurts, and it’s scary, but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
“Her heart rate’s going nuts.”
“We need to stem the signals being sent out by her brain.”
“Get me some anesthetic. This’ll be easier if she’s asleep.”
“Myshka?”
You blink, and you’re back in the kitchen, cradled in Piotr’s arms. “When did I get on the floor?”
“You stopped talking mid-sentence and fell over.” His face is creased with worry. “Did you black out?”
“I guess. I mean—”
“Nyet,” Illyana rejects. “Her brain was retrieving memories, not stopping all processing.”
“She broke from reality,” Wade surmises, eyes widening. “In seconds.”
“We need to get her back to Dr. McCoy,” Nate says, standing abruptly.
Piotr lifts your off the floor and starts carrying towards the medical wing of the house. “Agreed.”
You’re trying to be calm. The embodiment of zen. The living definition of chill.
But between the mutation repression collar around your neck, the wires and sticky ‘nodes’ stuck to your forehead, and the knowledge that you’ve been breaking from reality with no warning, you’re not having much luck with it.
Piotr squeezes your hand as fat tears roll down your cheeks. “Tische, tische. Deep breaths, moya lyubov’.”
You draw in an uneven breath. “I’m scared.”
Piotr just kisses your forehead. You know he’s scared too, he’s just better at game-facing that you are. “Professor Xavier is very experienced with psychic therapy. If anyone can help, it is him.”
“Yeah, but I’m breaking from reality without warning now,” you whimper. “What if whatever I’ve got is getting worse? Or the hit I took made it worse? What if—”
“Deep breath, myshka. Please.” He rubs his thumb in slow circles against the back of your hand, but there’s no missing the tears that well up in his eyes. “Speculating helps nothing now.”
Before you can spiral again, Professor Xavier and Alyssa walk –well, Alyssa walks, Xavier rolls—into the room.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Alyssa sits down on the bed next to you and clasps your hand warmly. “How’re you feeling?”
“Scared,” you admit tearfully. “Really scared.”
“I bet. You’re dealing with some big stuff right now. Let’s see if we can get some answers for you, alright?”
“Have you found anything noteworthy in your scans, Hank?” Charles asks.
Dr. McCoy shakes his head. “No. There aren’t any signs of any injuries or abnormalities that might explain the hallucinations.”
“Illyana said that I was accessing memories,” you pipe up. “But… I don’t remember these. I mean, I do now that I’ve seen them, but they’re not anything I’ve gone through before.”
“How many new sets of memories can you recall?” Professor Xavier asks as he folds his hands over his lap. He frowns as you run him through everything you can recall –from waking up in the bed and hearing the argument, to throwing up on your uncle’s shoes, to most recent set of mix-matched recollections—then glances over at Alyssa. “Could she be accessing repressed memories?”
“That would explain why she doesn’t remember seeing them before,” Alyssa says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Try doing a scan of her mind. See if you can find anything.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “I hate this part. It always feels so weird.”
Professor Xavier chuckles. “I will endeavor to be as unobtrusive as possible.”
You do your best to brace yourself, but the sensation of Xavier entering your mind still makes a shudder run down your spine.
Piotr squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Try to relax as much as you can.”
You grit your teeth. “I know, I know.”
Everything’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of the heart monitor Hank hooked up to you. Then, in a voice with too much underlying urgency to be comforting, Xavier asks “Y/N, are you completely certain that you’ve never had an encounter with a telepath before coming to the Institute?”
“Not as far as I know. Why?”
“I’m seeing a great deal of psychic scarring that was blocked from view before,” Xavier says, voice tense. “It’s extremely old, from the looks of it.”
A chill runs down your spine. “So what does that mean?”
“I’m… not sure yet.”
You crack one eye open and stare at him. “Not sure?”
He purses his lips. “Until we can ascertain what incident your formerly repressed memories are attached to, I cannot be certain about the nature of the scarring and how much it might impact your mind.”
“Are we gonna have to clear out the rest of the block?” Alyssa asks.
“I believe, given the nature of the blackouts and the lack of warning that accompanies them, we have no other option.”
You swallow hard. “What do you mean ‘clear out?’”
“We would go in and release whatever memories are being held back by the block in order to figure out how extensive the scarring is on your mind,” Xavier explains.
You can’t help but tremble. “And what if I don’t want to do that?”
Xavier sighs. “You have the right to deny treatment, of course, but I am genuinely concerned for your health. Given that you lose all control of your physical faculties, the risk of your being seriously injured during a blackout is quite high. For your sake, I would urge you to accept the treatment.”
Your lower lip quivers as you look over at Piotr. “I’m scared.”
He scoots his chair closer to your bed and takes both your hands in his. “I will be right here for whole time.”
“You’ve got the collar on, too,” Alyssa says as she pats your arm. “You’re not at risk of hurting anyone else.”
You try to swallow the lump in your throat and look over at Professor Xavier. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Physically, no, though the memories recovered may cause a great deal of emotional distress.”
“You’ve got Piotr here, and me, and your family is waiting outside,” Alyssa reminds you gently. “And you’re in a much better place than when you first came here. You can get through this.”
You give her a watery look. “Would you say something if I couldn’t?”
She nods. “If I didn’t think you could make it through this in one piece, we’d figure out a different way.”
You take a deep breath, then nod. “Alright. Balls to the wall. Let’s do this.”
Professor Xavier nods back. “You will likely be more comfortable if you relax your body and close your eyes.”
You settle back against the bed, taking the time you need to get your pillow and blanket adjusted. Once you’re comfortable –and don’t have anything else to stall with—you look over at Piotr.
He kisses your forehead. “It will be okay. I will not go anywhere. I promise.”
You nod, take a deep breath, and squeeze your eyes shut.
The house is small, out in the middle of nowhere. It’s stark white against the stormy sky, with gray shutters and a tar black roof. The windows glint in their settings as the sun strains past the clouds in bits and pieces. An immaculate grass lawn stretches out all around it, with red and gold poppies lining the walk up to the front porch.
You’ve never felt the need to run more in your life, but your mother’s hand is latched onto yours, unrelenting. “Mommy, why are we here?”
Your mother doesn’t answer, just marches behind your father, yanking you with as they walk up the steps to the house and ring the doorbell.
A pretty but otherwise average young woman opens the door. “Come in. I assume you brought everything I asked you to.”
“Yes,” your mother says crisply. “How long will this take?”
“About half an hour, start to finish. Have you dosed her yet?”
“Before we left home,” your father answers.
“Good. Bring her to the bed.”
There’s a bed sitting in the far corner of the back room. It has railings on the side, like a hospital bed. Loose straps and restraints lay across the mattress.
You dig your heels in. “No! No, I don’t wanna lie down! No!”
Your father lifts you off the ground and carries you over, ignoring your kicking and screaming. He holds you down by your shoulders while your mother and the other lady strap you onto the bed.
You thrash and strain against the straps, but without your powers there’s no point. You’re not going anywhere.
The other lady moves to the head of the bed and places her hands on each side of your face. “I’ll begin now.”
And then, agony.
Is.
All.
You.
Know.
White hot. Consuming. It burns through you as you scream and scream and scream.
Maybe it lasts for an hour. Or maybe five minutes. Or maybe time just stops altogether. You can’t process anything outside of the blinding pain wracking your body.
At some point it stops, and then you’re being unbound. You sit up, shaking all over.
“She is perfected,” the other lady says.
Your mother kneels in front of you, smiling expectantly. “How are you feeling?”
You lift your gaze to look at her as tears continue trickling down your cheeks. You breathe in—
And then the room explodes as you scream.
Your eyes snap open.
You’re back in the medical wing room.
You’re back with Piotr.
You’re safe.
Piotr leans towards you as you press a hand against your mouth. “Myshka? What is it? What’s wrong?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and start crying.
It takes time for you to get it all out. You get halfway through the story, then decide that you’d rather tell everyone at once and ask for yours and Piotr’s families to be brought in.
When you were seven, your parents caught wind of there being a woman who could “cure” mutants by telepathically removing their mutations.
Your parents, being the people they were, decided to ask her to “cure” you.
And reality, being what it is, meant that her operation was one big sham. As soon as you’d been unrestrained, you decimated the entire house with a sonic scream.
Afterwards, the side effects of the treatment started showing themselves. Instead of repressing your mutation, the telepathic woman had caused you severe brain damage.
You were dying.
Not wanting to deal with a dead child on their hands, your parents had taken you to your uncle’s and demanded he heal you.
And he had. He’d called in a lot of favors to do it, but he did.
“And you sent her back home to them,” Wade says once you finish, glaring at your uncle. “I’m sorry, but what in the actual fuck!”
“It’s not that simple, Wade,” you argue tiredly.
“Oh, but it is! If I can kill a guy with a Zamboni, this is that simple!”
“Do you really think if I’d had any choice, I’d have let her go back with them?” your uncle growls.
“Wade,” you interject softly before your adoptive brother can respond. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t defend him if I didn’t think he deserved it.”
Wade relents at that and sits down, expression melancholy as the indignation rushes out of him. “Man. Your parents are fucked up.”
Across the room, Alexandra is wiping tears off her cheeks. “What mother does that to her own child?”
Nikolai just shakes his head and says something in Russian in a trembling voice.
Piotr stays with you that night, cramming into your bed with you on your request despite the fact that a cot had been brought in for him. He keeps his arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing intermittent kisses to the crown of your head as the two of you sit in silence. Between his shock over the whole situation and the fact that you can’t really get more than two sentences into any conversation before you start crying, there’s not much to be said.
He starts rubbing your back when you start sobbing anew. “Tische, moya dusha. Everything is okay.”
You press your face against his chest as you bawl. “P-promise me –promise me w-we’ll never do anything like that to our kids. N-not just m-mutation stuff, b-but even if they’re –if they’re disabled, or autistic, or—”
His arms tighten around you, encircling you completely. “Konechno. They will always be loved, regardless of whatever comes with them.”
(Later, after you’ve been discharged from the medical wing, you’ll realize that he could’ve been offended that you’d even think that he’d hold any sort of condition against a child of yours and his, but instead chose to accept your fear for what it was and reassure you that the two of you would always –will always—do right by whatever children you have.
You’ll start crying again when you do.)
…
You come to with a sharp inhalation several hours later. Your eyes are sore from crying so much, and your bed is noticeably Piotr-less.
Alexandra is seated on a chair next to your bed. She cringes when she realizes you’re awake. “D’ermo. We thought you would sleep much longer than this.”
You frown sleepily. “Where’s Piotr?”
“Nikolai and I had him go stretch out in his own bed for a bit. We figured we would get him up in a few hours, before you woke up.”
“What time is it?”
“A little past six AM.”
You grimace. “Fuck.”
She smirks. “I was never a morning person, either. How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess. Nothing’s hurting. Trying to sleep with these fucking wires all over my head is a little annoying, though.”
“And emotionally?”
You frown a little –you didn’t think you had any tears left in your body, but your eyes are already welling up—and hug the blanket against your chest. “Sad. And angry. And just…”
Alexandra gently puts her hand on yours when your voice trails off. “Maybe this is not my place to say… but you ought to be proud of yourself. And I know things will process in time, but you have been through so much, and yet you have not lost your compassion, your kindness, your joy. You are incredibly strong, Y/N. Don’t forget that, in all this revelation.”
You give her a small smile. “Thank you. And I’m trying to process stuff out and give myself time, but… I don’t know. I know I went through a lot, but I know my uncle and you –or people like Wade, and Nate, and even Frank—have gone through so much worse. I guess when I think about all of that, my stuff doesn’t seem like it was that big a deal.”
Alex shakes her head. “The point of surviving trauma is not so we can compare our scars to others’ and decide who has had it worst by the marks left behind. The point of surviving is so that we can be compassionate towards others who are still enduring their own struggles, and so we can help them make sure they swim towards the surface, rather than down.”
“Wow. That’s… that’s really deep. And inspiring.”
She smiles. “I cannot take credit; Nikolai said it, not me.”
You smile back. “He seems like a wonderful man. I see a lot of him in Piotr.”
“Nikolai is the light of my world,” Alex agrees. “I would not be who I am now without him.”
“I know I wouldn’t be who I am without Piotr, either.”
She’s quiet for a minute, then she squeezes your hand gently. “For what it’s worth, I think I would be very lucky to have you as a daughter –or, daughter-in-law, I suppose. Whenever you and medvezhonok decide the time is right.”
You try to smile at her –because she’s being sweet and you really do appreciate the sentiment—but you wind up crying instead.
You’ve already found replacements for your father in Nate and your uncle, but this is the first time you’ve had a motherly figure say you’d make a good daughter, and it’s making you emotional, dammit.
Fortunately, Alexandra seems neither startled or perturbed by your sudden outburst of tears. Instead, she simply moves from her chair to the edge of your bed, puts her arms around your shoulders, and presses a motherly kiss to the top of your head. “Tische, malen'kaya ptitsa. It’s okay.”
You wind up spending three days in the medical wing. Fortunately, between yours and Piotr’s respective families, you’re never left wanting for company or entertainment.
You also learn the hard way never to play Poker with Wade, Alex, your uncle, and Mikhail, because you will lose so badly, holy shit.
You also (also) learn that Illyana can, in fact, shred faster on her violin than Mikhail can on his guitar, which is great.
Piotr’s a constant presence by your side while you’re confined to your bed in the medical wing. He squeezes into bed with you at night, and during the day he does different art practices while sitting next to your bed.
Despite the constant stream of people and comfort, you’re still going out of your mind. You’ve stopped blacking out, which –as far as you’re concerned—means that you ought to be free to galivant around the mansion as you damn well please.
Fortunately, by mid-morning on the fourth day, Dr. McCoy, Professor Xavier, and Alyssa finally agree with you.
“Oh thank Cthulhu!” You yank the sticky pads the wires had been attached to off your forehead before the healer working with you can lift a hand to help. “I thought I was gonna go insane!”
Professor Xavier chuckles as you try to vacate the bed as fast as possible. “Before you wander off, there is one more piece of information we need to share with you. We believe we have a working diagnosis for your episodes.”
You freeze halfway through getting out of bed. You stare at Xavier for a moment, then blindly reach for Piotr’s hand.
He squeezes your hand in his. “What did you find?”
“Well, the blackouts were specifically caused by the combination of the head injury and the repressed memories coming to the surface,” Hank starts. “We’re not exactly sure why they manifested the way they did, but I’m confident that Y/N’s in the clear now, considering she’s been without incident for the past seventy-two hours. As for the episodes, we’re all in agreement that the psychic scarring caused your traumatic memories to manifest as hallucinations.”
“Now that we know what’s been causing the hallucinations,” Alyssa adds, “we believe that medicating your anxiety, continuing with counselling to help you process your childhood trauma, and regular telepathic therapy should get your episodes mostly –if not completely—under control.”
You stare at all of them. You can barely breathe. You almost can’t believe it.
A diagnosis. A treatment plan.
A fucking answer.
We could get married now, you realize. We finally know what’s going on. Piotr and I can get married.
You barely have to look at Piotr to know he’s thinking the exact same thing.
You start crying. After years of not knowing what was wrong with you, you finally have answer –and a way to deal with your issues, an actual plan.
You practically fling yourself into Piotr’s lap. When you wrap your arms around his neck –and he wraps his arms around you—you realize he’s crying, too.
The future’s never looked so bright.
#sass writes#piotr rasputin x reader#colossus x reader#nathan summers x wade wilson#alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin#frank castle x karen page#holy shit my hands are so tired#i need to ice them or something#tw: child abuse#tw: vomit#tw: head injury#angst angst angst#deadpool fanfiction#x men fanfiction
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Blameless? Shameless? More like Shiftless: Wrap-up
I grumbled and fumbled through the first book in the series Soulless or Brainless. I fumed and gloomed through the second book Changeless or Gormless.
Now we’re onto the last book of the (initial) trilogy Blameless or...how I originally wanted to riff it...
But, I do not have riffs for you for this book. Why? I thought this series would end because I would run out of energy for it. That’s not what happened...the true reason, is that this book is BY FAR the best out of the three, and that because of that most of my riffs aren’t very funny. Despite that, I would not classify this book as GOOD by my standards. I think it’s barely mediocre and fixed a lot of problems the other books had. So I feel as if I have to concede a bit here.
Instead of riffs, you’ll be getting a summary and my review so I feel as if I can tie this off with a nice little bow.
Summary:
Obvious spoilers ahead.
The world is steampunk supernatural Victorian England. Vampires and Werewolves are real things, and there are also soulless. Soulless are another set of supernaturals that can negate the powers of vampires and werewolves with touch. Alexia is a soulless, and is married to an important werewolf Maccon. Alexia becomes pregnant by Maccon, however werewolves are not supposed to be able to have children. So Maccon is convinced she cheated and abandons her.
Alexia goes back to live with her family. She discovers her one vampire friend has split town without warning, and that every other vampire is out to kill her for this pregnancy. However she wants to prove that the child is Maccon, so she decides to go to Italy with her friends. Italy is a country that’s run by religious zealots out to murder every single supernatural person and DESPITE THE OBVIOUS benefits a soulless could provide that organization they treat soulless people shitty too. However, they suspect that with all the research they’ve done, they will have some information which can prove Alexia right. So Alexia travels to Italy with her dead dad’s stoic bodyguard Floote, and with a woman who has a crush on her named LeFoux.
Meanwhile her husband Maccon is being shitfaced and angsting a bunch about this. His 2nd in command Lyall is taking care of all his duties. Eventually Maccon sobers up and publishes a public apology for Alexia and claims that the baby is in fact his. Also on this end it is discovered that Alexia’s vampire friend Akeldama had his boyfriend kidnapped. So Maccon and Lyall manage to rescue the boyfriend, murdering the head vampire and being forced to change the boyfriend into a werewolf to save his life.
On the trip to Italy they battle a bunch of vampires and meet some allies. When they get to Italy they’re captured by the religious Zealots known as the Templars. When the Templars find out she’s with child they lock her in the dungeon. However with the help of her friends and Maccon they rescue her. Maccon and Alexia make up and happy end.
My review:
The story in itself…is simply not good. I could list you plot holes by the dozen by neither of us has the patience for that I’m sure. I think the sticking point for me is that their whole mission feels pretty pointless. They go through all this hassle getting to Italy (which honestly seemed like a super bad idea) while also being attacked by vampires the entire time and for what? To find out that yes she could get pregnant from a werewolf?
….Don’t we already know that since she’s uhh pregnant from a werewolf?
The lore of this book is super bad. All the major plot points hinge on nobody understanding anything about a rare but super fascinating and important race of people. It feels as if the author doesn’t really care about her own lore, and makes everybody in her fictional world the same. Also it’s kinda hard for me to believe, that even if female soulless are super rare that literally in this world’s whole history a female soulless has become pregnant by a supernatural person twice. TWICE! IN IT’S ENTIRE HISTORY! SEEMS LEGIT!
But there is a reason this is the best out of the three I swear!
I think the story starts off really strong with believable and easy-to-understand exposition that draws you in. I legit read the first chapter of this book and was like, “WHAT THE FUCK, WE’RE A GOOD SERIES NOW!?!??!”
I think a large part of what makes it better for me is that they finally treat this series like an action/adventure. There are lot of vampire battles, fighting weird technology, and dramatic escapes using wild steampunk vehicles. We also have Maccon fighting werewolves and vampires, and dramatically saving a person from a glass bubble from the bottom of a river.
The steampunk technology used here is just straight up really lame and forced but I think that’s easily forgiven in a silly action adventure novel.
I think the POINT of books of this nature. Is the fun action! We also pace this all together well. We have suspense, breaks from the action, and it’s not all the same pow pow fight scene by a long shot. I will say there isn’t a lot of suspense that she won’t be able to make it out alive. Nobody dies or even sustains any kind of serious injury. The protagonists seem to fight as if they’re invincible, but oddly enough LeFoux spends a lot of the later scenes almost instantly getting knocked unconscious. Which I suppose is fine to up the ante of the tension but she’s the only one who gets that treatment and she gets it a lot…which is kind weird.
Speaking of LeFoux, I was really bummed about her and Alexia’s relationship in this book. One of the few enjoyable things about the last book was the lesbian flirting and the unresolved sexual tension between LeFoux and Alexia. Sure Alexia didn’t know lesbians were a THING but it was quite clear that Alexia was attracted to LeFoux. In this book LeFoux continues to flirt with Alexia but Alexia treats it like a droll annoyance. Quite frankly it doesn’t make any sense if you’ve read the last book. Alexia is at her lowest point in her relationship to her shitty husband, there is mutual attraction, LeFoux treats her nicely and is very willing, they’re off on an exciting and at points romantic tour of France, Alexia is on the cusp of a huge life change without her family or her husband’s support, and LeFoux is raising a child too. I get that Maccon/Alexia has got to be OTP and that you don’t want her to look like she would actually cheat since, cause she’s gotta be morally better than the negative reputation she’s getting in the press. Yet at no point is a relationship with LeFoux treated as even a temptation for her. There isn’t even like a sub plot where Alexia worries about hurting LeFoux’s feelings or clearly explains that they can’t be together. LeFoux has no reaction when Alexia reconciles with her husband. It’s not treated as fucking anything more than comedic swatting down of lesbian advances. So honestly? That kinda made me angry. Now Alexia did sexually assault LeFoux last book and totally doesn’t deserve her but to treat her now as they wacky queer who hits on your Mary-Sue so you remember your Mary-Sue is hot is utterly aggravating.
The story still has the major problem of being such a no bummers train that she won’t dare give LeFoux and Alexia a messy relationship. It could have been so much more compelling ugh! A part of me wonders if the author originally intended for the two to get together this novel since there was all that previous build up and the set up here makes it ideal. Yet an editor said BIG NO to it, because apparently a hero cheating in a book is considered one of the most toxic of novel poisons. OH WELL!
But a female/female relationship that is way better in this book? That would be the friendship between Ivy and Alexia. In the last book, Ivy was the stupid comic relief with romantic troubles. Alexia spent the last book just being a condescending asshole to her. Ivy never treated Alexia’s bullshit romantic troubles with anything other than support and respect but did not get the same in return. They did not seem like friends. Ivy was there to make Alexia look better and for a cheap laugh at Ivy’s expense even though she does nothing wrong. That was garbage. In this book however Ivy trusts Alexia that she didn’t cheat, gives her all her love and support, gives her tea for her trip, and competently runs LeFoux’s hat shop while they’re both away. In exchange Alexia appreciates what Ivy is doing and treats her like a smart person capable of doing difficult tasks.
I said it before and I’ll say it again. Ivy is MVP of this series and you CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!
But while we’re talking about relationships the crux of this series is Alexia and Maccon. I wonder if this is my favorite book of the series because they barely interact in person. The one time at the end where they reconcile was unbearable. Basically the just barely escape the dungeon and the entire crew is standing just outside it. Alexia goes on a tirade about how much she hates Maccon but she’s very obviously pretending to be mad at him, and it’s the most pathetic scene in the series. It was rushed and painfully awkward. We just immediately forget about any possible danger and the other people there so Alexia can pointlessly pout while we all pretend its agency. (It’s not.) We also than very quickly transition them to a RANDOM barn so they can have sex, which is fade to black anyway.
I can’t help but view their reconciliation as a desperate woman who’s been through a lot, wants so badly for things to be less chaotic and familiar again that she capitulates to a shit boy garbage man. She has many, many, many reasons to be properly mad at him. She is shunned by her family, loses her job, becomes a social outcast who can’t walk down the street without being harassed, and is the target of open and constant vampire hostility. But he publishes a public apology and now they’re even. The public apology is talked about as ~humiliating~ but he loses nothing for it. The series tries to sell us that they’re equals in this relationship cause they sass each other. They are not equals in this relationship. The series never seems to acknowledge that Alexia does like 90% of the work and gets way more shit than Maccon could ever dream of. Not that the series has to have a political message, it just seems so doped up by our shit heterosexual culture that it has no self-awareness. I dislike Alexia for being a bad person, but Maccon is a worse person who doesn’t do anything good and lives a charmed life while his wife suffers quicker and more severely. And what do we get out of it? Dialog that can be boiled down to…
“Let’s have sex”
“No you’re a gross terrible very bad man!”
“Oh okay, I’ll go over here to contribute nothing and whine a lot.”
“I MEAN MAYBE IT WON’T BE SO BAD TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU???????????”
“…Is that a yes?”
“YOU VERY BAD MAN WHO IS GROSS AND TERRIBLE! I WILL NEVER HAVE SEX WITH YOU.............................................................
.............................................................….unless?”
I hate it very much.
So let’s talk other characters:
Floote is boring and pointless.
Tunstell shows up briefly to be comedic relief and really bad comedic relief at that. He shows up in LeFoux’s lab and opens with him being very afraid of her wacky technology but then immediately starts sticking his fingers in dangerous stuff. Way to contradict your character in under a paragraph.
The way Channing was established last book, while making him look like a shitbird, gave him personality. In this book he’s there as a protective prop to make Maccon look marginally better. None of his personality comes out at all, and despite the last book showing him as a romantic rival there is 0 of that in this book. I don’t think he has more than 3 lines of dialog.
LeFoux’s one friend was also pointless and personality-less to the point I can’t even be bother to look up his name. He existed so they could dramatically borrow his flying contraption.
The villains of this series are two-fold:
We have the Templars who are religious zealots who want to kill all supernaturals and are disgusted by Alexia’s kind despite how useful she could be. They were not good villains because they are utterly pathetic. They let Alexia and her friends have the run of the place. While they can go outside the compound, once captured, they’re followed to make sure they return. However, the author did not do an adequate job making that atmosphere…even stressful. The pack of them should be frightened by this. They should be treading on eggshells because one wrong move and it’s an inquisition for them! …No they zip around enjoying pesto and don’t seem to have a care in the world.
Even when the fight is brought to them? They spend their whole lives training to kill supernaturals but when they get a chance to do so to protect Alexia they’re not very good at it. 3 podunk humans managed to evade capture by the entire vampire community as they trotted through Europe but zealots trained from birth to stake vampires fall left and right when they’re attacked by them?
OH YEAH, REALLY FEELING LIKE THEY’RE A LEGIT THREAT! THANKS FOR THAT!
Oh but don’t worry we have another villain to help balance things out!
We have Langs-Dorf or whatever the fuck his name is. He is a heartless dude who researches soulless. He basically wants to use her for experiments so he later teams up with the Templars and spills the beans that’s she’s preggorz.
He, like the Templars, are flaccid shit tier babies. He’s the archetypal sniveling scientist, who can’t even outwit them. He honestly doesn’t even really get much screen-time. I am not exaggerating when I say they dedicate more time to describing what his irritating dog gets up to than what he does. They did that for comedic purposes, sure okay whatever. But it’s not funny and the ankle attacking just highlights how harmless he is as well.
So Alexia’s pregnancy?
I mean, they do try to give her a character arc on how she feels about carrying a child. It starts with her calling it an inconvenience and just assuming she’ll miscarry eventually. Yet later is like, “Well I guess it’s okay if it lives.” I’m glad they tried but they didn’t do a good job. Little time is dedicated to her personal feelings on the matter and her steps in pregnancy acceptance feel disjointed. It felt very much like,
Chapter 1:
This sucks.
Chapter 10:
Well I’m not morning sick today.
Chatper 20:
I guess it’s okay.
I get we can’t talk about her wanting an abortion cause EVERYTHING IS GOOD TIMES but this no-bummers train cruising straight into never-frown-town we’re on here really stamps down her ability to have a MEANINGFUL arc not just on her role of her impending motherhood but like recognizing it’s going to be whole different human being. ISN’T HER PREGNANCY SUPPOSED TO BE THE CORNERSTONE OF THIS WHOLE BOOK?! Like at least 50 shades had Ana recognize her pregnancy as ANOTHER POTENTIAL PERSON and that she wanted to protect it even after her shitty husband lost his mind over it.
But I mean…for Alexia it’s at least in character cause she doesn’t give a shit about anything besides herself. Alexia has not won me over as a relatable protagonist I want to root for. She’s self-obsessed, and dumb. Yet the whole world clamors about how great she is. She never has consequences tied to her negative choices or personality traits. She never gets in trouble for going into dangerous situations without planning. Nor does she get in trouble for her lack of empathy, or belligerence. What she does get in trouble for is being born a soulless woman. It feeds her smug martyr complex and overall is pretty fucking annoying.
TL;DR
Plot and characters? Bad
But this time the story has action, suspense, good pacing, and Ivy never did anything wrong. Good!
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